The Billionaire Who Faked My Love Story And Lost The Real One Chapter 02
Wren exploded.
She grabbed a wine bottle and smashed it against the table’s edge. Jagged glass in her fist, she lunged at me.
“I’ll kill you!”
Garrick and his friends rushed to grab her.
But I was faster.
A second before the bottle came down, the paring knife was already pressed against her stomach.
Through the thin knit of her dress, I could feel the warm, firm curve.
Wren froze.
Sweat ran down her temples. Her hands were shaking.
I watched her face and almost laughed.
This is the ‘wild’ one?
Wren really did remind me of who I used to be.
But a cheap knockoff is still a knockoff.
I’d kept myself on a leash around Garrick for so long that he’d forgotten what I actually looked like off it.
“Garrick!”
Garrick yanked Wren behind him.
His hand went protectively to her stomach without thinking.
“Stop it.”
I raised my brows. “Who started it?”
“You’re the one who let her come at me.”
“She wanted to play? Fine. But games have consequences. Don’t they?”
A long silence.
Garrick sighed. His voice went soft, the way it did when he knew he couldn’t win. “I’ll take her punishment.”
And then he walked straight toward me.
The blade sank into his side.
White shirt. Red blood.
I watched the stain spread across the fabric, and something in my chest seized.
He didn’t even flinch.
He smiled, soft and slow, and reached up to touch my face.
“There. Are we even now? You’re not mad anymore, right?”
“Garrick, are you insane?”
Wren screamed and lunged for him.
But Garrick swept her up and carried her out.
She fought him the whole way down, cursing and sobbing, her voice echoing up the stairwell.
I looked down.
Wren was screaming that she’d kill me, but her hands were already checking Garrick’s wound.
The whole time, Garrick kept one hand over her stomach.
They held onto each other.
I smiled to myself. A silent, hollow laugh.
People never make sense.
Garrick and I used to be enemies. Real ones. I’d sabotage his projects. He’d blow up my deals.
I used to think he wanted me dead more than he wanted anything else.
How strange. He actually loved me.
How disgusting. He’d actually gone soft.
I pressed a hand to my chest, but the ache was already there, dull and spreading.
The most disgusting part? Somewhere in those five years, I’d fallen for him too.
That afternoon, I sat with my phone, scrolling through everything I’d found.
Silas had been looking for me for five years.
Garrick had buried him under false leads and sent him chasing ghosts across the globe.
His excuse was protection. That my old enemies might come after me. So he either tailed me himself or had someone else do it.
He’d planted a tracker in my phone.
Every call, every text was screened. I couldn’t even post a photo without it getting flagged and killed.
Garrick had built me a gilded cage and welded the door shut himself.
A notification broke through. [Friend request.]
The profile picture was Garrick and Wren.
She was curled against his chest, smiling. Some island sunset glowing behind them.
I accepted. The messages hit like a wall.
Photos first.
Garrick on the edge of a bed, rubbing stretch-mark oil into Wren’s skin.
His hands moving in slow circles over her round stomach, his eyes soft.
Him in the kitchen wearing an apron, something homemade and beautiful plated on the counter.
I hit play on the voice message.
[His friends say he used to be obsessed with you. Were you his first love or something?]
[So what? He still got tired of you.]
[I don’t care who’s the wife and who’s the side piece. The one he loves wins.]
[I sent you a little present. Make sure you sign for it.]
The doorbell rang.
Divorce papers.
Garrick had already signed.
That bold, slanting handwriting. Unmistakably his.
I stared at his signature for a long time.
This time, the laugh that came out of me was real.
Did Wren think I’d beg him to stay?
I couldn’t wait to leave.
I signed without hesitating.
Took a photo. Sent it to Garrick.
[Congrats. She’s all yours.]
Half a second later, my phone started blowing up.
