Page 106 of Remi's War (Four Dark Horsemen 2)

In case it wasn’t clear enough, I’m yelling at you right now.

Sure… ignore my messages in married bliss. Why didn’t you tell me you were in a relationship?

This is not what I meant when I said to live in the moment.

BTW, your dad called, and he is livid. He told me to confess and give him all the details on your “relationship.” I had a poker face on, but seriously.

Fine… just reply to me once you can, because, girl! That’s so insane.

Forgot to add: he is totally hot. Although I always fancied the blond one more. He’s just so charming.

I barely focus on what she texted, though, since she also sent me a few online articles with me standing in a wedding dress next to Remi. It must be the photo Jimena took as she managed to capture me staring at my husband in awe as he gently caressed my cheek. From the outside, it might even seem he has feelings for me, and the black-and-white effect gives it a fairy-tale-like vibe.

The whole world knows we’re married!

And the headlines are so ridiculous.

Another one ties the knot. Ladies and gentlemen, Remi Reyes is officially off the market.

Prepare your tissues, everyone, because one of Chicago’s most eligible bachelors just found his forever.

Remi Reyes married Penelope Walsh last night. The bride is the daughter of famous painter and philanthropist, Asher Walsh, who happens to be good friends with Rebecca Cortez. Rumor has it, that's how the newlyweds met a few months back, during one of her father’s art shows in France. The couple had a small, private ceremony with only friends present.

A hysterical laugh slips past my lips at the article. We now have a whole fake-ass history too to back up this “arranged marriage”?

I hadn’t thought that far ahead about my involvement in all this. I assumed I could act my role and then hightail my ass to France, where all this would be forgotten like a bad dream. Remi was supposed to want Amalia and go ballistic once he discovered he was deceived.

Now, all the variables in our equations have changed, and the outcome is no longer known or predictable.

With the press finding out so quickly and spreading it around, this marriage will always be public knowledge, and I will never wipe it away from my existence.

Divorcing or sending your billionaire husband to prison would be bigger freaking news than the wedding!

“How could you?” I ask Remi, who watches me intently while sipping his coffee. “Everyone knows!” I shake my phone with the screenshot. “Our picture is all over the internet.”

“Did you expect me to hide the fact that I’m married?” My jaw almost hits the floor at how he says it; he makes it sound as if I’m the idiot who was naïve enough to believe all this shit would be kept under wraps. “Especially with the event tonight. People will find out sooner or later; I just sped up the process.” He clicks on his laptop. “Your credit cards and access cards to my buildings will be ready for you soon. You don’t have a license either, so Kelly is interviewing drivers right now.”

“I don’t want your money. I have my own.” Although my savings would not be enough to cover all my expenses, I don’t want to owe Remi anything. “Besides, what would I do with those cards? It’s not like captives are allowed to wander around without their captor.”

He ignores the jab sent his way, although his orbs flash in warning, hinting at me to keep my mouth shut if I want to leave all this with my sanity intact. Urging the beast to snap wouldn’t be smart, because how would it protect me from him, then? “You have a low-paying job in France and live with your father, who financed your entire trip here. And you won’t get the trust fund Asher set up for you until the age of thirty.”

Dad believes in hard work, so he’s decided to give me the two million he has for me later in life, in this pushing me to achieve great things in my career. Walshes always find success; they just need to set their eyes on something.

Too bad my father never listened when I told him that I have no great career aspirations and in fact am quite content with my ordinary life. And it’s hard not to feel weird for it too when, from every corner, everyone insists you have to be super successful or otherwise you suck.

Is it really so bad to just enjoy your work and build a family without having the desire to conquer the world?

My phone dings again, tearing my attention from his far-from-cruel words that pour salt over my old wounds, and I groan before biting my lip when clicking on my dad’s name. So many messages pop up I can’t keep track of them all.

I focus on the ones that are sent after a screenshot, though, because that’s where my dad's true fury lies.

Penelope Psyche Walsh. Tell me this news is fake and you didn’t just marry someone you barely know.

I had to call Rebecca to find out about my daughter’s marriage! She sings his praises as if he’s her own son.

Apparently my own child deceived me enough to hide a whole other life from me.

You wore a wedding dress. Marriage in Vegas wouldn’t have hurt me as much as this!

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