Page 77 of Billionaire Accidental Daddy

I don’t want to believe it. But the evidence is scrawled on a napkin in front of me. There’s no possible way for my dad to have that napkin unless Amelia handed it over to him.

She did this. She really fucking did this.

I realize I’m shaking. I want to put my fist through the window. I want to yell at Amelia, demand answers. I never want to see my fucking dad again.

But first, I need to deal with the threat my dad just made. It’ll be a cold day in hell before I let him win the board vote, after the shit he just pulled.

All I need to do to win is discredit Amelia. Make it so none of the board members will believe her if my dad does bring her to the meeting.

Even after everything, a part of me protests at the thought of hurting her. Although if she wants out of our deal that bad, it may not hurt her all that much anyway.

I let myself go ice cold, shutting out the part of my heart that cares about Amelia, about my dad, about anything but doing what’s best for the company.

I pick up the napkin.

“Fine.” I say. I feel numb. “See you in the board meeting.”

He claps his hands together, pleased. “See you at the meeting.”

When he leaves, I call my assistant. “Lucinda? Send Amelia to me. And have HR prepare termination papers for her.”

There’s a thump on the other end of the line, like she dropped the phone.

A second later she’s back on the line. “Cole, are you sure—”

“I don’t pay you to question my judgment,” I snap. “Send her to my office. I want her locked out of all her Ashford Marketing accounts by the time she and I finish our meeting.”

There’s a loaded silence. I can feel the weight of Lucinda’s judgment. She thinks I’m doing the wrong thing.

But she doesn’t know the truth.

“Perhaps you’d like me to wait until you talk to her,” she says at last.

“Do what you’re fucking told,” I snap, and hang up.

I scrub a hand over my face.

I’ll need to apologize to Lucinda tomorrow for snapping at her like that. But I can’t do it today. I can’t have people questioning me if I’m going to get through the next fifteen minutes.

When Ameliatentatively knocks on my door five minutes later and steps into my office, her face is lit with a nervous smile. My heart responds to that smile, beating faster just because she’s near and smiling.

How dare she fucking smile?

“Close the door and sit down,” I say.

She does, twisting her hands in her lap. “Cole, I need to tell you something—”

“I already know,” I say, my voice blunt like a hammer.

“You...do?” Her face falters. “And you’re not happy?”

I stare at her, stunned. “Why the fuck would I be happy?” Is she being cruel on purpose? That doesn’t seem like the Amelia I know.

Butnoneof this seems like the Amelia I know.

Just get through it, I tell myself.

I hand her two checks, both for exorbitant amounts. “The first of those is for our original six-month engagement. The second is for walking quietly out this door in ten minutes and never coming back.”

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