Page 114 of The Wife Situation

“And then …” She shakes her head, her jaw clenching.

I unlock my phone, find the article, and wait for it to load. I don’t typically scout this shit out. Weston tells me what I need to know because our image is essential. That’s why it was so devastating when his divorce was announced to the world because he wanted it to stay private.

I read the headline and continue down the page. When Lexi finishes reading it, she locks her phone and puts it on the counter. She’s mad. Hell, I am too.

Alexis is a kind and caring partner. We’ve known each other since we were thirteen, and we often discussed marriage. I don’t see her ever being with a man like Easton Calloway. He’s not her type.

At the bottom, it ends with:

People who have known Alexis Matthews since she was a child aren’t convinced this relationship is legitimate.

“I’m sorry.”

“I can’t believe he said we’d planned to get married. He failed to mention he was a cheating bastard. He has no idea what he’s talking about.” She scoffs.

“Do you agree with him?”

“Not what he said aboutyou,” she says, her green eyes meeting mine. “Ten out of five,” she whispers the rating that she gave me before any of this was released.

It’s music to my fucking ears.

She picks up her phone and texts someone.

I focus back on my drawing as she flips her hair over to one side with frustration.

“I cannot believe these people went all the way to Valentine and all they could dig up was my shitty, cheating ex who lives in the next town over. People in my hometown are like one big family, and they’ll protect me from outside gossip. But outside of town, I’m fair game.” She shakes her head. “It’s a blessing and a curse.”

I smile. “We should visit.”

She searches my face. “Have you lost your mind?”

“Do you trust me?”

She nods. “You neverwelcomea vampire inside. Ever heard that? They’ll meddle.”

“We’ll leave tomorrow.”

She takes a drink of her coffee. Steam still rises from the top. “Do you think it’s necessary?”

“Yes. Weston reviewed the contracts again. If committee members suspect I’m committing fraud, I will lose my promotionandinheritance,” I explain. “We need to squash doubts. Control the narrative.”

She glances at me. “You could lose it all, Easton.”

“I’m betting on us with everything I have. It’s a gamble, but my intuition about situations or people is always right. When it comes to us, I have no doubts.”

Something is sizzling between us; it might take her a year to see that, but I have time. And in the end, maybe I’ll have everything I want.

The silence drags on.

“Your confidence about visiting does it for me,” she says. “We’ll leave tomorrow then.”

I pull my wallet from my pocket, pluck out a black aluminum credit card, and slide it across the counter toward her. “This is yours.”

“Really?” She looks down at it in her hand. Her name is etched across the front in a shiny gold font.

“Buy whatever you want. There’s no limit,” I explain.

“On the card or for me?”

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