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Me: He was livid. He thought Lee Roberts was a man.

Letting him suffer under that assumption was so satisfying. Too bad it won’t last. A quick Google search will show him Rory Palma and Lee Roberts are one and the same.

Rory: 😂🤣 Hmm, I’m not surprised. He considers you his already.

He can stick his claim somewhere deeply uncomfortable.

Me: I let him believe it. He deserved every second of his ridiculous possessiveness.

Rory: Evil. I like it. 😈😏

I hesitate a moment, not sure if I should warn her. Dammit, I’d better. I can’t have her unprepared.

Me: I fear he might pay you a visit.

The typing bubble appears, and a second later a new message pops up.

Rory: There’s a knock on my door.

I blink. My stomach drops. That was fast. Surely it can’t be Maximo already, can it?

Me: Merda.

There’s no answer for five straight minutes. My message doesn’t even change to “Read.”

Oh God, what’s happening at Rory’s studio?

I keep staring at the screen, willing the three dots to move. Nothing. I wait another two minutes before texting again.

Me: Rory???

I chew on the tip of my finger, my foot bouncing.

Is she in trouble because of me? What is Maximo going to do to her?

Me: Rory? What’s happening?

Another ten minutes tick by and, against all reason, I’ve started pacing again. If anybody was watching me, they might assume I’ve developed a sudden passion for exercise.

My phone starts ringing, and I lunge for it, nearly dropping the thing.

Rory.

“Finally. Please tell me you’re okay,” I say the second I answer.

Her laugh crackles through the speaker, and I relax a little. She wouldn’t laugh if she was hurt in any way, would she?

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“What happened?” I ask.

There’s a brief pause. “Your future husband happened.”

I let out a loud groan.

“Don’t even joke about that.” I’ve had enough of that man. “What did he do?”

“Honestly? He was surprisingly polite.”


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