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.

She only stared at me, hesitation flickering in her moonlit eyes like silver shadows. 


"Come to me, Octavia," I murmured, voice low and rough, extending my hand.


After a heartbeat that felt like forever, her fingers slid into mine—warm, trembling slightly. She let me guide her until she settled across my lap, straddling me, facing me fully. Even in the dim silver glow of the moon, she was breathtaking: lips parted, chest rising and falling, dark hair spilling over bare shoulders like ink poured across moonlight.


I cupped the back of her neck and captured her mouth again.


This kiss was different. I have ever had to feel this feral hungrier and more desperate kind of kiss. Tongues tangled slowly at first, then fiercely, as though we were trying to drink each other dry. My hands roamed her back, tracing the elegant dip of her spine, the soft flare of her hips. Heat radiated between us, thick and electric.


Chapter 70 - ~ 70