Page 79 of Always Been You
I hail a cab, sliding into the backseat. “M Industries,” I tell the driver, gripping the marriage certificate like it might disappear.
Eddie has a lot of explaining to do.
***
I march straight toward the elevator, barely registering my surroundings when I arrive. The receptionist at the front desk doesn’t stop me, probably because of something Eddie has said but I can’t bring myself to care.
I stabbed the button for the tenth floor. People step in and out, but I don’t see them. My mind is a whirlwind, my heart pounding too loudly in my chest. I feel like I might explode. Like I need to scream and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.
If anyone has a problem with it, they can go fuck themselves.
The elevator dings, and the doors slide open. I storm out, my strides long and unrelenting. I don’t stop to ask where he is. I don’t need to. I throw open the first door I see.
Wrong room. A woman looks up at me, startled.
“Sorry,” I mutter, slamming the door shut and moving to the next one.
Empty.
I check another. And another. The last door is at the end of the hall. He has to be here.
I don’t stop to think. I shove the door open, and there he is, sitting at the head of a long conference table, sharp and composed, dressed in all black.
Eddie. My fucking husband apparently.
My grip tightens around the green-and-white paper in my hand, my pulse thrumming with rage.
“What the fuck, Edmund?” I shout, my voice ringing through the space.
Everyone in the room freezes. Some are already standing, clearly ready to leave, but now they really scramble, gathering their things.
Eddie’s face shifts the moment he sees what I’m holding.
His expression falls. He exhales slowly, measuredly. Then, his voice drops low, calm but lethal.
“Out.” No one moves.
“I said get out.” The authority in his voice is enough to have them practically tripping over themselves in their rush toward the door. I take a step back, suddenly unsure.
His gaze snaps to me, sharp and deliberate.
“Not you, Empress,” he says, voice softer but still firm.
I watch as he turns toward the massive screen behind him, only now realizing he’s still on a video call.
Governor Grason Lockwood.
Of course.
Eddie doesn’t hesitate. “Apologies, Governor. Can we reschedule? My wife needs me.”
He ends the call before I can even process the words.
My stomach twists.
My wife.
A bitter, incredulous laugh bubbles out of me. I shake my head, then shake the paper in my hand.
