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“I am, and he’s great. Tall, handsome, rich. Just not as rich as you.” She says you with a raspiness to her voice meant to seduce me.

“No.” I don’t give her any of the other words I’m thinking. I’m sick of women acting like this around me because I’m wealthy. I need to find a solution to my problem.

She sighs. “Too bad. Oh well, make sure you and Larkyn get a good seat to my announcement.”

“Announcement?” I ask although I remember her mentioning something about a surprise earlier.

She nods. “We have big news we’re sharing in about fifteen minutes if father ever gets done lecturing Larkyn. I don’t know why he wastes his time talking to her. She’s never going to listen. She’s a lost cause. I don’t know why my family decided to adopt her in the first place.

“My mother thought I needed a sister, I guess, and she didn’t want to fuck up her plastic surgery to have a second child of her own. So instead, she picked up some trash off the street and expected her to flourish in our world. Oh, well. She’s not our problem anymore.”

Anastasia rests her hand on my bare chest again, while I burn with rage.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” I spat out.

She grins. “Don’t even try to defend her. I know the two of you aren’t actually together. I saw her at Sebastian’s party. I heard about the car accident. This is a pity date. Nothing more. Call me when you want a real woman,” she winks before walking off, but not before I spot the flashy diamond on an important finger.

Shit.

Anastasia is going to announce she’s engaged at Larkyn’s graduation party.

Not fucking happening.

I stare at the door, trying to come up with a plan to ruin Anastasia’s night and make Larkyn’s.

I grasp for the ring hanging around my neck on a gold chain, as I always do when I need comfort.

And a solution forms. One I’m not sure if Larkyn will ever agree to. But it’s the perfect plan. One that will solve both of our problems. Women will no longer hit on me. And Larkyn will be able to show up her family and get everything she’s ever wanted. Money, security, and affection.

I need a few things. New clothes here, fast. And a diamond ring. Good thing I always carry a diamond ring with me.

6

Larkyn

“You can’t live off your winnings as a runner! You’ll never make enough money. And don’t think I haven’t noticed you’re practically limping. Did you injure yourself again? How do you expect to be a good runner if you keep injuring yourself?” my father yells.

I pull the towel tighter around my body, trying to hold myself back from attacking as I want. My father doesn’t know about the car accident. None of my family does. And I don’t plan on telling any of them.

“I’ll make enough. I’m still working as a yoga instructor. I’ll be able to work more hours when classes are over next week. I’ll survive.”

He shakes his head, hanging it low like he can’t even look at me. “You shouldn’t just get by. You should find a real job. One in the business field, after you hopefully graduate.”

“Stop. I’m graduating in two weeks. Just stop saying that.”

“Fine. I’ll accept you are graduating with a degree you will never use. What good is that? You have the skills, but won’t use them? You’ll be homeless or live off a man!”

I narrow my eyes. He has no idea what I want. He has no idea who I am or what my plans are.

“I won’t be homeless or live off a man! I will make enough money to feed myself and put a roof over my head. That’s all that matters. I don’t care about money. I want to make a difference in people’s lives.” And I do, I just haven’t figured out how I’m going to make a difference yet or what I want to do. All I know is I like running and helping other people stay fit. But I know it won’t be sustainable to do forever.

“You can’t make a difference without money. Charities, foundations run on money. So work hard at a big corporation, make your money, then start something like everyone else.”

“No, I don’t want to work at a big corporation.”

Dad throws his hands up. We’ve had this same argument thousands of times before. I thought tonight with Kade on my arm he might stop. He might let me enjoy the night, but it made no difference.

He walks over to the bar and pours himself a drink as always. This is how he handles things. He drinks.


Tags: Ella Miles Pretend Romance