“I’m sorry, Walker,” is all I can really say. I actually do feel sorry for him. I couldn’t imagine loving someone and them not loving me back. If Antonio didn’t love me—
My own train of thought cuts off. Holy shit. I’m utterly, madly in love with Antonio. It would be heartbreaking if he didn’t love me. I shake off that thought. Of course that man loves me. I’ll be confirming that first thing when I see him. When he took me from the Auction, he told me he was going to prove to me what I meant to him, and he had. I knew I was it for him. That he’ll spend the rest of his life making me happy, and I plan to do the same for him.
“If you’re sorry, then call your husband off.”
“Walker, I’m not married.”
“Cut the shit. I started digging when I got word someone called Antonio Cortez was making moves to make sure I didn’t get re-elected. Tried to figure out why some casino owner all the way out here in Vegas gave a shit about the Senate elections in Texas. Didn’t take long to figure out when I saw who he was married to.”
“We aren’t married,” I try again. Not that it matters if we are or not. Either way, I’m sure Antonio’s probably gunning for him. I should’ve seen it coming. When I told him about everything that happened and how I grew up, the anger towards Senator Walker Keaton was clear. Or maybe I did see it coming and just didn’t care.
Once I had only anger towards Walker, but now I have sympathy, too. Still, being so petty as to be jealous that a woman loved her child more than him is ludicrous. I don’t see one problem with Antonio making sure he won’t be a senator again. His priorities and ethics are clearly messed up.
“I saw the marriage license. Not to mention it was in the paper, Georgie. A billionaire doesn’t get married without it making the news,” he barks out in that tone he uses when he’s mad but doesn’t want anyone around us to hear.
I stand there, staring at him in shock. I didn’t get married. What the hell?
I turn and make my way towards the elevators.
“Where are you going?” I hear Walker yell behind me.
I look back at him. “If I were you, I’d stay away from me unless you want to make things worse with Antonio. He doesn’t like when things upset me. This much you’ve seen already.”
I leave him standing there without so much as much as a goodbye. He’d be wise to heed my warning, but petty men like him tend to be stupid, too.
When I finally make it back to the suite, I head straight for Antonio’s office. I stalk over to his desk and begin to dig through the drawers. I don’t give two flying shits about being nosey.
When I see a file with my name on it, I pull it out and open it. The first thing on the top is indeed a marriage license. A signed marriage license. The signature is mine.
Those slick bastards. I must have missed this. When I signed the Mistress Contract, I must have signed a marriage contract, too. I can clearly see he didn’t rip this one up along with the Mistress Contract.
I look through the rest of the folder and find a ton a pictures of me and information on Walker.
I pick up my phone and send Antonio a text.
Me: Found the marriage license. I’m packing my shit.
15
Don
I’m sitting in my office and going over mindless paperwork. Anyone in my staff could handle this, but Georgia wanted to go to lunch with Stella alone. I keep thinking about her, counting down the seconds until I get to see her again.
My assistant, Jen, walks in, and I roll my eyes. “Don’t bring me anything else for the rest of the day. I mean it.”
“Don, I’ve got ten other people who work for you on speed dial to handle this. But if you’re here, why not just take care of it yourself?”
She gives me a knowing smirk, and I lean back in my chair. “She put you up to this, didn’t she?”
Jen smiles and lays the stack of papers down in front of me. “Peaches is very charming. She told me to keep you occupied while she enjoys her lunch and gets gossip about you.”
With that, Jen walks out of the office, closing the door behind her.
Letting out a sigh, I reach for my cell phone. I put it on the far side of my desk so I’d leave her alone instead of texting her every three seconds like I wanted to.
I see I have a couple of missed texts from Charles, a friend who owns the Snake Eyes casino, asking about doing a husband and wives poker night. I laugh, thinking that nobody wants to go against my girl. She’ll take them all down.
I scroll down and see I missed one from Georgia about a half-hour ago.
Sweet Cream: Found the marriage license. I’m packing my shit.
“Fuck!” I leap out of my chair and run for my office door, flinging it open and heading for the elevator. As the doors open, I see Jen jump up from her desk, and I turn to shout at her. “Get security by the front door! Find Georgia, and don’t let her leave the casino! Now!”
The door opens, and I slide my card in, hitting the code for the penthouse.