Chapter 1
Chapter One
TRULY
In times of need, one must resort to extreme methods.
I may have broken a handful of laws to get here, but I didn’t have much of an option.
I used my best friend's passport to get where I needed to go.
We bear a striking resemblance. I didn't want them to know I was coming. I'd likely be stopped, and I don’t have my own passport. It was taken years ago. That’s a story for another day.
Who knew it could be so hard to see your own husband? Then again, I didn’t even see him when we got married four years ago. It’s been even longer since I saw him last.
I was a young teen at the time, still in braces and unable to say more than a few words to the boy I’d thought was handsome.
Long before I realized we would one day get married, I harbored a crush on my husband.
It’s why I hadn’t fought the marriage to begin with.
I was excited. I was still a silly, na?ve girl with hearts in my eyes.
I didn't see back then that I was being used by both his family and my own. Though they see it differently.
Honestly, there wasn’t much of a choice in it. My father basically told me we’d be married, but I was still to go off to college. I’d been accepted to Imperial Supérieure, a top all-girls college in Europe. All the schools I attended throughout my life were all-girls institutions.
My mother believed it made girls more confident when boys weren't around to muddle their minds. I don’t know if she truly believes that. She is rather Stepford, if I were to describe her. Then again, her marriage, too, was arranged.
I believed that in time Blake would come and see me.
That he would call or even send simple messages.
After the first year, I saw our marriage for what it was: a transaction between his father and mine.
Two companies joining forces with Blake the protégé to take over.
I didn’t reap any of the benefits of this merger.
I’m sure they’d say otherwise. They might be right.
My schooling was paid, and in a sense, I was a kept woman.
I was a mere afterthought that was forgotten about. I never had the opportunity to experience love because I had to keep up appearances. I had to remain faithful to a man that couldn’t even be bothered to acknowledge my existence. While he is out there doing God knows what.
I'm sure at some point I'll be expected to be at his side. I’ve always assumed it would be after my schooling is done. Not that I’ll ever get to use my degree for anything useful.
It will only ever be used to fluff up my status.
No one cares what I want. I was never even asked for my input on my own life.
I'm over it. It's why I'm now standing outside of Blake’s shiny office building, divorce papers in hand. I'd pulled a few strings and was able to take my finals a little early, and I turned in the last of my projects and papers.
I am done, even though graduation is still weeks away. I knew getting out early was the only way I could slip through the fingers of those trying to keep me where they wanted me to be. They assumed I would continue to go along with them, controlling the direction of my life.
I tried to reach out. To have a conversation with Blake to discuss the future.
I hadn't wanted it to come to this. I sent emails and called.
All unanswered. I knew Blake wasn't dead.
There have been articles about him and his work.
Images of him attending various events have been published.
He did wear his wedding band, and when asked about me, he'd probably change the subject because what could he say?
He hasn't taken the time to get to know me, and now I would rather not get to know him either.
I'm leaving this elite world they live in.
I don't care what I'm walking away from.
I don't have a penny to my name, and I am not asking for any money in the divorce.
All I want is my freedom. I want to move forward with my life and hopefully find love in the future.
Thankfully I have a kickass best friend that is going to let me crash with her.
She was the one to help me map out this plan.
I take a deep breath before I head inside.
I hate how nauseous I am. I don't believe my mother took into account that being at an all-girls school could make you awkward when it came to the opposite sex.
I have no idea what to expect from Blake, but I know there is no other option at this point. This has to be done.
You can do this. You deserve better, I silently remind myself, straightening my shoulders and heading in. I push through the revolving door, entering into the massive lobby, heading straight for the bank of elevators, bypassing the security desk.
“Excuse me, ma'am," I hear the security guard call after me. I quicken my pace and pray that the elevator gods are smiling down on me today. Luckily they are, and I slip into one of the open cars, the doors momentarily closing behind me. I calmly make my way to the back. That was a close call.
“Seventieth floor, please,” I say. One of the occupants closest to the buttons pushes it for me. I’m not the best with heights, so I try not to think about how high this little box actually has to travel. Of course, my husband…soon to be ex... would have to be on the top floor.
I relax a little, relieved that everything has gone to plan so far. I still have the element of surprise on my side. Which is exactly what I’ve been counting on.
The ride up feels like an eternity as it stops on almost every floor, letting people off.
When we finally reach my floor, there are only a few people left.
I let them all filter out first before I step off into a wide-open space.
A handful of desks are in the center with offices surrounding them on all sides.
I know which is Blake's. It stretches across two giant doors that run floor to ceiling.
In front of it is a desk with a woman whose attention is on the computer.
She has shiny black hair, and as I draw closer, I can see how gorgeous she is.
I suddenly feel way underdressed. I haven't bothered to change or freshen up.
I stepped right off the plane and caught a taxi here.
Once she turns her head to look directly at me, she doesn’t seem as attractive.
Her expression becomes icy, and her features appear more severe now.
I would guess that she is a few years older than me, but age can be difficult to determine these days.
I swear, as I get older, my own mother looks more like my sister than my mom.
"Is there something I can help you with?" she asks.
"I'm here to see Blake Lockheart," I tell her.
"I don't believe you have an appointment." I don’t miss the judgment in her tone. Her eyes flick past me, and I turn, glancing back to see two security guards headed for me. Crap. That didn’t take long.
The woman starts to stand, and I dart around her desk to yank open one of the double doors.
"Hey!" she shouts after me.
"Don’t you know how to knock?" Blake's tone is like a slap, making me pause. He turns his attention away from the computer screen, his dark green eyes coming to me. They narrow. The boy I once knew is gone. There’s not an ounce of softness left. It makes my chest ache, but I ignore it.
Well, damn, I thought I'd get more of a surprised reaction. I mentally roll my eyes at myself. Why do I keep thinking I can predict what Blake might do when it comes to me?
"What's going on?" Blake stands, and I swallow at his sheer size. I guess pictures really don't show you that. He has to be thirty pounds heavier, and it's all muscle. The button-up shirt he's wearing lets you see his thick build. Is he taller too? He is no longer a boy. My husband is all man now.
"I'm sorry, she—" his assistant starts to say, but he cuts her off.
"Stop!” Blake snaps, making me step back. "Don't fucking touch her." I turn my head to see the two security guards now right behind me.
"She barged in requesting to see you, but you didn't have a meeting on your schedule."
"I don't need to schedule a meeting. I'm his wife." I try to keep my tone flat and uncaring. The woman's dark brows rise, not one wrinkle showing in her forehead.
"Everyone out," he orders. I momentarily debate running. I wasn't as prepared as I thought I was to face him. "Not you," Blake says, those hard eyes still on me. "Wife."
"Not for long," I tell him, pushing my shoulders back. I'm not the same girl he once knew either.