Page 40 of The Billionaire and His Forever

I spend the entire two-hour drive to Manhattan making calls on my Bluetooth, trying to find ways to help and coming up frustratingly short. Is this what Abbie felt like while I was locked up? Something that feels like grief overwhelms me as I picture her sitting in a cold cell, listless and confused. I have to do something. They can’t keep her there.

Getting through the hospital takes no time at all, as I’ve been here entirely too often already. The same bitchy nurse Jude and I saw last time we visited follows me to Natasha’s room, where I find my ex-wife sitting up in full makeup, watching TV. A tray of half-eaten soup and crackers is on the table next to her. When she sees me, she grabs the remote and hits mute.

“There’s my husband!” she coos. Her eyes are glassy, probably from the drugs they have her on, but she seems very much like her old self. Pity.

“Ex,” I remind her, burying my anger under years of practice. I walk over to the bed, the nurse watching me from the doorway. Lowering my voice, I hiss, “What the fuck did you do?”

Natasha places a hand dramatically over her chest, her eyes going wide. “Don’t yell at me, Graham, I’m so weak.”

I clench my jaw, entirely unmoved by her display. “Funny, you’re looking remarkably well recovered to me.Start talking.”

She looks at me serenely, like she isn’t trying to ruin my life. “You should be thanking me, darling. I stopped you from marrying a murderer.”

“You did thisto yourself. And believe me, there will be consequences for your actions—my lawyers are already on the case. What the hell were you even thinking?”

Despite the fact that I’m not buying her innocent act in the slightest, Natasha pushes on with her dewy eyes and trembling chin.

“When I woke up and the nurse told me about your proposal plan, I knew I had to save you and Jude. I had the police brought in immediately. Abbie tried tokill me, Graham. She wanted to get me out of the way so she could take your money. And she almost succeeded!”

Behind me, the nurse makes a sound of disapproval—obviously, she’s completely fallen for this whole fucking charade. Which, of course she has. Natasha is playing her part perfectly. She’s a great actress. But I know what she looks like when she’s acting.

And she is lying through her goddamn teeth.

She’s so full of shit, sitting here in the bed she’s made, playing the victim. Always the fucking victim.

“Don’t look so angry, Graham. Can’t you see I’m just doing what needs to be done? It’s not your fault she bamboozled you, a pretty young thing like that. Of course you fell for it.”

That’s the final straw.

“You fuckinghag,” I hiss. “You miserable, manipulative—”

“Don’t get angry, now,” Natasha says in a singsong voice.

“Should I call security, Mrs. Ratliff?” the nurse behind me asks loudly. “Do we need the police to come and remove him?”

“Maybe we do,” Natasha muses, looking me dead in the eye, her gaze cold and calculating. She could never lie through her eyes. “Maybe I need a restraining order against you, Graham. You clearly don’t believe me. Or maybe you planned this whole thing with the nanny so you could off me and steal my daughter. Jude needs to be safe. I’d better call my lawyer…”

I turn on a heel and storm out of the room before my temper truly shatters. My ex-wife is a vile human, and so help me, I will do whatever it takes to keep her out of my life for good. I’ve just turned the corner, the nosey nurse still chasing after me, when I see a familiar figure walking toward me.

It’s none other than Quinn. Quinn fucking Dempsey.

Chapter Seventeen

Graham

My former fucking stable hand.

I square my jaw and stand my ground as Quinn continues walking my way, the gap between us shortening until we’re all but facing off in this hallway like two gunslingers in an old western, each unwilling to make the first move.

“You,” I sneer.

“Mr. Ratliff,” Quinn says good-naturedly, but his body language betrays his voice. He has his hands stuffed in his pockets, his brow furrowed, like a child who knows he’s in trouble. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

My phone rings, so I hold up a finger to hold him there and answer the phone.

“This is Graham.”

“Graham, this is Daniel.”

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