Chapter 5
At the Hilton Hotel, surrounded by flashing lights and celebrities, Eric and I were paraded as the perfect couple–New York’s golden billionaire and his loyal fiancée.
As he slid the engagement ring onto my finger, a video suddenly lit up the giant LED screen behind us.
At first, people gasped.
Then they screamed.
here I was on a ship’s deck, barely clothed, surrounded by kidnappers. The camera zoomed in on my face as I spoke in a sultry voice, seducing them.
Then, a cut–another scene played. This time, it was me, lying limp under Eric, my body exposed, breathless and vulnerable.
His face was blurred. Mine wasn’t.
The crowd exploded.
“My God, how many men has she slept with?”
“She’s wilder than the ocean!”
“Mr. Sullivan’s fiancée is a certified freak!”
“Bet he’s wearing a green hat with pride!”
Eric’s mother stormed forward and slapped me across the face.
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“You shameless slut! This is how you repay us?”
People laughed. Others whispered louder.
“Still, her skin is flawless. Look at that glow.”
“She just left a dermatology clinic. See those hives? Must’ve caught something nasty.”
“Who knew STDs could look so elegant?”
“And this is the woman the richest man wants to marry?”
Then came the dramatics. Eric’s mother grabbed a steak fork and pressed it to her chest..
“If you marry her, Eric, I swear I’ll kill myself–right here, right now!”
The room fell into silence.
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Eric stood still, his jaw clenched. After a long pause, he took a deep breath and stepped toward the mic.
“I don’t care what anyone says. Maddie is the woman I love. I accept every part of her–her past, her pain, her passion.”
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“If I’m marrying her, I’m marrying all of her.”
There was a strange murmur in the crowd–some pity, some disgust, some disbelief.
“Ugh, what a weak man. All heart, no brain.”
“Romantic? More like pathetic.”
“He’s letting love blind him completely.”
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Chapter 5
Eric turned to me, gently reaching for my hand.
I didn’t flinch–I yanked my hand away.
Then, without hesitation, I stepped forward and seized the microphone.
I scanned the crowd–the judgmental stares, the cameras, the fake
sympathy–and smiled.
A cold, deliberate smile.
“You want to marry me?” I said, voice ringing through the ballroom.
“Did you ever stop to ask… if I want to marry you?”
