Page 51 of King of Deception

“Fuck, baby, you’re so hot,” Preston groans, his hips pressing into hers. Is he humping her in the lobby?

It’s not that I’m jealous. I’m not sure I would have been even if we were still engaged. My pride would have been wounded, but I’d have gotten over that.

I’ve been up to my own extracurricular activities and, if we’re being honest, Preston and I never had a real relationship.

We had a few real dates. But that’s about it. This whole thing was really more of a bad merger.

My arms cross as I try to figure out how to play this. I won’t fake sad. But I want Preston to know that I know.

It’s just one more weapon in my break-up arsenal.

I really am sounding more and more like a Kincaid. I clear my throat, but I don’t think they hear me over the wet sounds of the kissing.

Gross.

No wonder I never went that far with Preston.

Taking my phone out of my clutch, I hit his name.

“Fuck,” he rumbles, lifting his head long enough to look at my name on his screen and then he dismisses the call. “I’m late.”

“Don’t go,” she whines. “Stay with me, baby. Take me upstairs.”

“I already told you, Mason’s going to be there. I don’t give a fuck about her, but him…”

“You’re not really going to marry her, are you?” She says in this pouty voice that sets my teeth on edge.

Preston kisses her again, long and sloppy, and now I feel the irritation rise. This is why he can’t ever take my calls or call me when his parents come into town, because he’s busy fucking some other woman. Meanwhile, he tells me over and over how I’m the one failing. Fuck him.

“Preston,” I say. Loudly. “You haven’t answered her question.”

He lifts his head and slowly pivots, his eyes wide. “Bella.”

I hear the gasp, but I don’t look at her. I don’t care about her. I don’t really care about him either, but I have a score to settle. “Let me answer for you. No, we’re not getting married. You can have him, sweetheart, but just in case he hasn’t told you, he’s got no money of his own. Everything he’s been spending on you belongs to my family.”

And then I pivot, walking with my head high across the lobby. Was that a low blow? Maybe. Did he deserve it? Definitely.

But I’m only halfway across when Preston catches up to me, his grip biting into my elbow. “Wait.”

“No, thank you,” I try to pull my arm from his grip, but he tightens it as he spins me. I nearly fall on my heels but just catch myself as he drops his face into mine. “We are not done.”

“Yes, we are.”

His grip grows painful, and it takes everything in me not to cry out. “I told you last time I dropped into your apartment that you are fucking marrying me.”

“Being embarrassed that I’ve called off the wedding,” I grit back, my teeth clenched. “That sounds like a you problem.”

“It’s about to be a you problem,” he spits back, his saliva hitting my cheek. I close my eyes, a reflex to keep the spit out.

“Miss Kincaid,” a deep voice to my right makes me snap them open again. A security guard for the hotel is only two feet away. “Do you need some assistance?”

My shoulders wilt with relief, as I look around and notice several people staring. Clearing my throat I give a small nod. “Would you be so kind as to escort me to my car?”

“Of course,” he answers as Preston slowly releases me. Once I’m free, I say to the guard, “Two of my brothers are dining at Cheval Blanc, please inform them of the incident when you return.”

I hear Preston spit a string of curses. I don’t look back as the guard lightly takes my arm, helping me outside, my car pulling up a moment later.

When I slide in, I sigh with relief. Hitting a button on my Apple CarPlay, I order from my favorite sushi restaurant and request delivery.

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