Page 131 of Fighting Mr. Knight

It’s a dull unease bubbling permanently in my stomach, waiting to rise. I can never forget it’s there.

Technically it’s not a lie, it’s an omission of the truth. It feels just as dangerous and destructive though.

It’s just a ring, I keep telling myself.Just a piece of expensive jewellery.

Jack is, ironically, the perfect boyfriend, despite his lack of practice. Every night he takes me back home on his motorcycle. He doesn’t care where we go, so long as he’s with me.

And every night, I’ve let him fuck me hard and rough. Then I cuddle with my face buried into him so he can’t see the lies.

He trusts me.

It’s ironic. Jack is working so hard to gain my trust, he’s not thinking about whether he should trustme.

But today, the constant dread will finally be lifted, thank fuck.

Jack visited Donnie Wicks in prison this afternoon. He messaged to say he has news. Donnie revealed the truth.

It’s Friday night and we are back in Jack’s bar, Maggie’s. Impromptu drinks put on by Lexington as a thanks for all our hard work, even if we did mess up the planning permission application.

My Bradshaw Brown colleagues around me are ecstatic. My jaw aches from the fake smile stuck on my face.

Max and Olivia are both here, dancing around each other coyly even though it’s the worst kept secret in Bradshaw Brown.

I couldn’t give a shit.

It’s been nearly two weeks since I discovered the evidence buried in my dad’s moving boxes. The innocent signet ring burning a hole in my conscience.

Thirteen days and nights of pretending that everything’s fine.

When my boyfriend walks in, his presence instantly takes over Maggie’s.

My belly flutters, as does the belly of every other woman in the bar, judging by the looks.

Sometimes I forget who he is—a guy with an unlimited supply of money, power and women.

I forget because Jack lets me forget.

He flashes his signature panty-dropping grin at everyone in his path but there’s an edge to it tonight and only I know why.

I’m buried in the Bradshaw & Brown crowd so he can’t see me at first. He scans distractedly as people try to get his attention.

I down the Tequila shot that Darren has shoved in my face just as Jack spots me.

“Jack.” Max slaps him on the back as the Bradshaw team parts to let him through.

He nods at Max but, still metres away, he’s looking only at me. His dark eyes stay locked on mine, their heat threatening to burn every inch of my skin.

Before Jack, I’ve never had a man look at me like this.

Then he’s in front of me, Nisha and Darren.

“Hi,” he says. “Can I talk to you.” It’s not a question.

Last night I couldn’t talk to him. I was too anxious.

He leans over and lowers his voice. “Don’t make me take you by the hand, Bonnie. You know I don’t care who knows about us.”

Nisha drags Darren away by the arm. Thankfully Darren is too drunk to pick up on the tension between our most important client and me.

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