Chapter 6
The wedding date was set for March 15th, just four weeks away.
Dom never wasted time once he made a decision. He thought I didn’t realize this rushed marriage was purely damage control.
If we broke up now, our company’s stock would tank overnight. When we founded Reid Media Group six years ago, we were equal partners on paper. But his family was strictly middle–class, while mine had connections.
I’d contributed 80% of the startup capital from my trust fund. Dom might be the face of the company, but I was its backbone.
He understood the financial implications perfectly. Marrying me now was his best
business move.
Over the years, he’d gradually pushed me out of the company operations, claiming he didn’t want me to be “stressed” or “overworked.” After marriage, he’d said, I could just enjoy life while he made the money and I spent it.
Now I saw those lines for what they were classic manipulation from the cheater’s handbook. Complete bullshit meant to keep me dependent on him.
A woman needs to rely on herself. That afternoon, I dusted off my MBA and prepared a proposal for a challenging but incredibly profitable collaboration. The potential partner was no small fish–a young tech heir who had recently inherited his family’s billion–dollar empire. The meeting place he’d suggested was unconventional, to say the least.
At 8 PM, I arrived at Sapphire, an exclusive nightclub in the financial district, dressed in a sleek black pantsuit that meant business.
According to my friend Megan, who worked in venture capital, Griffin Hayes would be there tonight.
“He’s eccentric but brilliant,” she’d warned me. “Don’t let his party–boy reputation fool you.”
I scanned the VIP section but couldn’t spot anyone who looked like a tech mogul among the crowd of wealthy twenty–somethings ordering bottle service.
My phone buzzed with a text from Megan: “He’s wearing a black leather jacket
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tonight. Probably the hottest guy in the room. That’s definitely him.”
“Got it. Wish me luck,” I texted back.
I weaved through the crowded club, searching for a man in a leather jacket. After rejecting multiple drink offers, I stopped turning around when I heard yet another pickup line.
“Sorry, I’m only interested in men wearing leather jackets…” I said without looking. “We meet again, sugar mama.”
That voice. I froze, then slowly turned around.
The gorgeous stranger from the hotel stood before me, a mischievous smile playing on his lips, wearing–of course–a black leather jacket.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, my eyes widening as I took him in. He looked even better than I remembered.
Memories of that night flooded my mind, making my knees weak. He noticed and quickly caught me, pulling me against his hard chest.
“What gave you the courage to leave without saying goodbye?” he asked, his voice low against my ear.
I broke into a nervous sweat. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. You must
have me confused with someone else.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Really? Should we find somewhere private to test that theory? Bodies don’t lie, even when mouths do.”
“I think we’d better not,” I said, already backing away.
He shook his head, his hand sliding possessively around my waist. “That’s not for you to decide, Olivia.”
9
