Page 148 of My Big, Fat, Accidental Billionaire Husband

Dom’s expression is pained. “It’s complicated.”

“Enlighten me.”

He glances at Nico, then back to me. “I owe him.”

“For what?”

“For—” Dom’s voice catches.

Nico’s smile turns predatory. “He never told you?”

When neither of them enlighten me further, I simply scowl.

“So this is what? Penance?” I ask Dom, my voice shaking with anger. “Handing me over to make up for some kind of guilt?”

“No, that’s not—”

“Yes,” Nico interrupts. “That’s exactly what it is. You’re the payment for his sins, Tatiana. A pretty consolation prize.”

I stand so abruptly my chair nearly topples backward. “I am not a fucking consolation prize.”

“Tatiana, please—” Dom reaches for my arm, but I step away.

“Don’t touch me.” The words come out icy cold. “Was any of it real? Or was I just a means to an end from the very beginning?”

“It was a contract,” he says, and though I can hear the conflict in his voice, all I can focus on is the word. Contract. “It was meant to end tomorrow.”

“Answer the question, Dom. Was any of it real for you? Or were you just biding your time, telling me what I wanted to hear, until you could hand me off to your brother like some sick peace offering?”

He stands, too, his eyes flashing with anger. But then he glances at Nico, and his face fills with pain and guilt and he crumples back into his chair.

His silence is deafening. But even worse is his surrender. It’s... heartbreaking. He’s not even going to fight for me.

I turn to Nico, the fury crystallizing into something cold and clear. “Let me be perfectly clear. I am not, nor will I ever be, interested in whatever sick game you two are playing. I am a person, not a bargaining chip.”

Nico shrugs, unbothered. “Your loss.”

I grab my purse and turn to leave, then pause, looking back at Dom. “You have nothing to say to me? Nothing at all? It was always just a contract to you? Just business?”

The pain in his eyes should give me satisfaction, but it only twists the knife deeper.

“Tatiana—”

“Save it.” I walk toward the entrance to the private room, then stop when I spot Jake waiting outside. He straightens, watching me closely. I turn back one last time. “Call off your dogs. I don’t need your security anymore.”

I wait for Dom to respond. He doesn’t.

“Dom,” I say pointedly. “Your security.”

“Stop following her,” he says in defeated.

Jake appears stunned, but doesn’t follow when I push past him.

I stride through the restaurant toward the exit. I glance over my shoulder. Nichols is staying by the bar, and Jake hasn’t moved from the entrance to the private dining area.

Good.

My heart is pounding so hard I can barely hear the maître d’ asking if everything is all right. I burst onto the sidewalk, gulping in the cool night air, my vision blurring with unshed tears.

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