Page 83 of The Billionaire’s Fake Fiancée
As he debates what to do next, the French man announces, "Ms. Murphy is not feeling well, but has asked us to continue with the pitch. We will share the results of today along with the recorded pitches with her and the final choice of five winners will receive $100,000 each. Investment from her will be communicated to all of you by the end of tomorrow. Now then—"
On his feet, Jace pushes his way between rows of seated people. Drawing more than a few irate comments along the way, he makes for the exit.
Adrenaline pours through his veins, as his heart thuds in his chest.
He can't let her go, not this time.
41
Sienna
* * *
I rush out of the conference room toward the parking garage. My heart's beating so fast I'm sure it's going to jump out of my chest.
Of all the places in the Valley, Jace turns up here. It'd been advertised that I was on the panel. Jace must have seen it, and known I'd be here today. Seeing him had cut through the sophisticated veneer I'd tried to project to the world despite the video circulating.
Walking through the crowded room toward the platform, I'd been aware of the eyes of the audience following me. The whispers, the stares. Either they're talking about the video or my recent inheritance.
Inside I'd cringed. The air, thick with unspoken questions, weighed down on me. Heart thumping, resisting the urge to bite my nails, I'd focused simply on making it to the stage.
I wasn't going to let the speculation get to me. I must stay strong.
My adoptive father would've been proud. He's always insisted I face every challenge life threw at me head on. That I never back down.
It's that iron will of his that had helped me make it through the early years of my new life in the US. When I'd wanted to fit in and had yet felt so out of place.
I'd felt every bit as out of place on that stage.
I hadn't wanted to come but the organizer had insisted, claiming my presence would help with the publicity. I'm now a minor celebrity. My inheritance story's all the rage in the Valley. The adoptee who inherited substantial money from her rich blood family and who'd decided to use it to help other starts-ups. Yeah, the media loves it.
They'd spun it as someone who wanted to share her good fortune by giving back to the Silicon Valley community. The bankrupt entrepreneur turned Angel Investor.
And then it strikes me.
That's why Tom released the video. The news of my inheritance was the last straw. Not only had I refused to help him with my then 'fiancé's' money, I had come into money of my own and still not helped him. And that must have made him mad.
This time, Tom hadn't even approached me for money, knowing full well I'd refuse him. Again.
Still, I hadn't expected him to release the video, had hoped our shared childhood years together would have made him hold back.
And now Jace has seen it, too. Every man in that room has seen it. No doubt they'd been thinking of fucking me even as I sat there on stage, face muscles rigid with the effort of not letting any of the emotions inside show on my face.
Now, my muscles sag with relief. I step out of the building and hurry toward my car. I reach for the door, when a shadow falls over the window. A hand covers mine. A shiver runs up my spine.
I know who it is even before I look up.
I'd expected Jace to follow me out. Would've been disappointed if he hadn't.
My eyes drink in the sight of him. Those silver-green eyes, high cheekbones, square jaw.
I'd missed him, had so wanted to see him.
But not like this. Not after he'd seen the video. Still, I can't pull away, don't want to let go of the feel of his hand on mine. My skin drinks in the feel of his palm, as it slides up my arm to my shoulder. Even through the sleeve of my suit, the warmth of his fingers bleeds through. Goose bumps spring to life across my forearm.
I turn around fast enough to take him by surprise. His jaw hardens as his eyes alight on my lips. It's like he's physically touched me. I shiver again. Pull myself together.
"What do you want?" I growl out.
