Page 53 of The Billionaire’s Fake Fiancée
The pleading look in his eyes bringing me up short. He jerks his head, and I follow him to a couch set in the far corner of the hotel lobby.
Behind us is a big bay window through which the wedding preparations continue.
"I need money," he says without preamble.
I look at him startled, my mind already racing forward.
His features twist as he speaks fast. He's trying to get the words out before he can change his mind. "Look, I wouldn't be doing this if I wasn't desperate."
His eyes slide away, and he clasps his hands in front of him.
“I'd help but it's not like I am rolling in money myself," I say, my tone half joking, half sarcastic.
He gives me a strange look, frowns. "You're going to be wedded to money soon. I'm sure it'll be very easy for you to loan me half a million dollars—"
"Hey," I interrupt. "I'm not officially engaged to him. And just because I'm the woman Jace happens to be sleeping with at the moment doesn't mean I have access to that kind of money," I mutter.
Natalie's laugh floats through the window. Happy, carefree. I'd do anything to feel that way again, even for one day.
"Why don't you ask Natalie? She's part of the family and has more access to the money."
When he raises his eyebrows at me, I realize he's already thought about that.
"Well?" I ask impatient. "What did she say."
"She doesn't inherit anything. All the money goes to the first male heir of the family."
"Jace," we chorus as one.
"Perhaps you should ask Jace. He may cut you a deal," I say only half serious.
"He already hates me, Sen. Since he saw me talking to you. He's jealous. He's in love with you."
"Yeah, right," I snort in disbelief. "I promise you there's nothing like that between us."
"Don't lie." He leans forward, grips my arm so tight, I yelp in pain.
"You're hurting me." I try to pull away but he doesn't let go.
The glint in his eyes has me leaning back.
"You see, Sienna, unlike Natalie, you have no choice but to help me out." His voice flat, cold, yet it wobbles as if he's trying to keep his emotions out of it and not quite succeeding.
"What do you mean?" A shiver or apprehension runs down my back. I already know I don't want to hear what he's going to say next.
"I have the video," he says.
"What are you talking about?" I ask.
My heart thuds in my chest. Whatever it is he's going to show me, I know, it can't be good.
Tom pulls out his phone, scrolls to a screen, then hands it to me. What I see on the screen makes my head whirl.
26
Sienna
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