He threw money on the bed after our one-night stand.
I threw it back in his face at his own inauguration.
By sundown, we were engaged. By the week's end — married.
Franklin Flemington needed a wife to secure his empire. I needed a miracle to save my family. For two years, we played our parts flawlessly — the golden couple the whole city envied.
Behind closed doors, I was invisible to him.
When the two years were up, I handed him divorce papers without blinking.
He stared at me like I'd lost my mind. "I've given you everything a husband should. What more do you want from me, Octavia?"
I smiled, signed my name, and walked out.
I thought that was the end. I thought I'd finally won.
I forgot one thing — Franklin Flemington has never lost anything in his life. And he has no intention of starting with me.
Game on.

Our luggage was already waiting for us when we entered the executive suite. 


The air in the room was thick, charged with the same electric tension as the salt spray outside. I sat on the edge of the enormous king-sized bed, testing its softness while Franklin dismissed the bellhop.


As the door clicked shut, I looked at him nonchalantly. "Since there's only one bed, I'll take it and you can have the couch." I stood up to grab my suitcase.


I sighed, turning back with a frown. "Fine. If you're going to be difficult, I'll take the couch and you take the bed. Happy?"


"No," he said again, his gaze locked on mine.


"No? Then what do you want, Franklin?" I snapped.


"We can share it. The bed is more than big enough for two people."


"That's impossible. I'm not sharing a bed with you. We don't need to perform for the staff in here, Franklin. The romance act stops where the privacy begins."


Chapter 68 - ~ 68