Page 81 of The Billionaire's Fake Wife
"Don’t go laughing at me. As you are aware, I am more rebellious than I seem."
She looks me up and down. "Let’s agree to disagree on that, Sis. You’re more of a quirky misfit."
Huh? Is that good or bad?
"You’re someone who wants to soothe things over, make the world a better place, someone who yearns for male approval."
I glower, "You think I have daddy issues?"
"Don’t we all?" She raises her shoulders, then lets them drop.
"That is the most honest thing you’ve ever said. I mean, given how we were abandoned by our own father, of course, we’d be looking for approval from the men in our lives, huh?"
"Difference is you fear loss of control. You’ll do anything to tame your circumstances, while I…" She looks past my shoulder.
"You?" I jerk my chin.
"I leverage the cards I’ve been dealt, rather than upset the entire table, looking for that one Ace that’ll probably never land in my lap."
"If are implying that I’ll never settle for anything other than the one, you’re right." I tip my face up, and peer into her eyes.
Damn, I could do with some heels about now. Except this isn’t a power play. It isn’t. This is me and my sister having a conversation about priorities, huh? And it’s time she understands where I stand on this.
"I won’t stop searching for the person who is compatible with me in every way."
She shakes her head, blinks, and I frown. Did something go into her eyes? Doesn’t matter. This once, I am going to have the last word.
"This marriage is as fake as Posh Spice."
The hair on the nape of my neck prickles; a frisson of electricity ladders up my spine. Too late, I realize what she’d been trying to tell me. Don’t turn. Don’t. A blast of heat at my back makes me wince.
"Care to repeat yourself?"
