Miss Perfect stood up and said, “You must be Blaire. Carrie is simply adorable. I got to meet her while we were shoe shopping last night.” I noticed Axel give her a sharp shake of his head, but she didn’t seem to notice. She walked toward me with her hand extended, but I just stared at it blankly. I felt the flush of shame and agony creep up over my face as she pulled her hand back uncomfortably.

Axel had taken this woman with him when he took my daughter shoe shopping? Surely, he wouldn’t introduce Carrie to some random slut he was fucking. No, she must be his girlfriend. But he said he “didn’t do” girlfriends… except for me. He had even made up all those silly rules about who could be his girlfriend. Well, he fucking lied. About everything.

Axel’s eyes never left me when he said, “Reagan, can you give us a minute, please?”

I heard her say, “Sure, Axel. I’ll just wait for you in the bedroom.” Oh, I’m just fucking sure you will, you whore! She headed up the stairs, and I couldn’t bear to watch. I turned and scrambled for the door handle, but Axel’s arms trapped me, his palms flat against the door.

“Let me go, Axel.” My voice was surprisingly quiet and steady, a complete contrast to the raging storm that was brewing inside me. I was filled with a tornado of emotions… anger, hurt, fear, utter humiliation. I had decided to trust him… to let him in fully, and then… this?

“No. I can see you jumping to conclusions.” He turned my body around to face him and stroked a finger down my face, burning me with his betrayal.

I yanked away from him and spat, “You mean about your girlfriend waiting upstairs in the bedroom for you.” His face turned hard a split second before he had me tossed over his shoulder, carrying me deeper into the apartment.

I wanted to yell and scream at him to put me down, but I didn’t want to give that woman upstairs the satisfaction of hearing me lose my shit. Instead, I hissed, “Put me down, you asshole.”

He smacked me on the ass and growled, “Behave.” What the fuck? How DARE he pull this Neanderthal shit with me? He plopped me unceremoniously onto the kitchen counter and glared at me. “Blaire, calm the fuck down. Reagan is here on business.”

I felt my eyes go wide. “She… she’s a prostitute?” I asked, disgusted.

He laughed at me then. Literally laughed in my face. “She’s my interior decorator, Bear.”

Huh? Interior… what?

I gave him a saccharine-sweet smile. “It’s so terribly kind of you to have a romantic dinner with your decorator, Axel. You’re a true gentleman.”