He threw money on the bed after our one-night stand.
I threw it back in his face at his own inauguration.
By sundown, we were engaged. By the week's end — married.
Franklin Flemington needed a wife to secure his empire. I needed a miracle to save my family. For two years, we played our parts flawlessly — the golden couple the whole city envied.
Behind closed doors, I was invisible to him.
When the two years were up, I handed him divorce papers without blinking.
He stared at me like I'd lost my mind. "I've given you everything a husband should. What more do you want from me, Octavia?"
I smiled, signed my name, and walked out.
I thought that was the end. I thought I'd finally won.
I forgot one thing — Franklin Flemington has never lost anything in his life. And he has no intention of starting with me.
Game on.

"Did Johnson show you my portfolio for the café mural project?" I asked, phone pressed to my ear as I balanced my laptop on the bed beside me.


"Yes, he did," Candice replied from Brooklyn. "I liked the coffee mural concept—it has real character. But I only saw it briefly. Can you send it directly to me?"


Candice owned a charming little café, and since returning to New York, I had thrown myself into freelance work. It was my way of reclaiming control, of focusing on my art and pushing thoughts of Clinton to the back of my mind.


"No worries, Candice. I'll send it right now. There are five pieces plus a quick mock-up of your front wall."


I tapped send on my laptop. "Done. It should be in your inbox."


"I'll check it after this call and get back to you soon," she promised.


"Thank you, Candice. I'll be waiting for your feedback."


Chapter 162 - ~ 162