The Temporary Boyfriend

Chapter 95: Fake enough to make me sick

"Catalina always did have more money than sense," Julian murmured. "She thinks that a million dollars and a few encrypted layers is enough to destroy someone’s reputation."

​He walked toward the center of the living room.

"What about the robbery?"

"He said it was one of the security men. He was contacted through the same process."

​"She is taking my kindness as a weakness," he said. "But I am only patient because of the chairman. And I wanted to see how far she would go. Next time, I would not be so kind."

....

Lyvana stirred awake. She had spent the night sleeping beside Lady Glowen, who was still fast asleep. She moved carefully out of bed, making sure not to wake her, and headed back to her own room to freshen up.

​As soon as she pushed the door open, her heart nearly stopped. Mark was lying comfortably on her bed, his head propped up on her pillows.

​"Mark! What the hell? You scared me!" Lyvana gasped, clutching her chest. "How did you even know I was here?"

​Mark was shirtless, his eyes dark and heavy. When he saw her, he sat up slowly and swung his legs over the side of the bed.

​"You forget I’m a son-in-law here," he said, his voice grating and cold. ƒreeωebnovel.ƈom

​"Not yet, you aren’t. And don’t come into my room without my permission," she snapped, her eyes flashing with anger.

​He didn’t listen. He stood up and walked toward her, his movements predatory. Before she could step back, he reached out and grabbed her hand, his fingers digging into her skin.

​"Mark, let go! You’re hurting me!"

​"Fuck, Liv," he hissed, pulling her closer until they were inches apart. "So you changed because of him? The clothes, the life... God, he’s the reason you’re fucking ignoring me!"

​"Let go of me! I don’t know who you’re talking about," Lyvana cried, struggling against his grip. "The guy at the news was paid to frame me, Mark. I was a victim!"

​"I am not talking about that criminal!" Mark yelled, his face turning red. "You know exactly who I’m talking about."

​Lyvana stopped struggling and narrowed her eyes, her voice turning to ice.

"Why don’t you enlighten me, Mark? You seem to know more than I do."

​He let go of her hand abruptly, shoving it away as if he were disgusted.

​"Who the hell is Julian Blackwood to you?" he demanded.

​"A business partner," she replied instantly, her face completely calm.

​Mark laughed, a harsh, mocking sound that filled the room. "You expect me to believe that?"

​"It’s the truth. Now leave. I don’t like your tone, and I don’t like you in my space," Lyvana said, pointing toward the door.

​Mark didn’t move. He just stared at her with a sick, twisted smile. "News flash, Liv, you’re stuck with me. Whether you like it or not."

He moved to pin her against the door.

Then traced her face with his hand, crushing his lips to her neck.

The thought of Mark touching her made her stomach churn. Even being this close, she felt like she was betraying Julian.

Lyvana tried to shove him off, but he was strong.

"I thought we settled all our issues the night we made love," She said cooly.

Of course he didn’t know it was Sweetpea and not her. She might as well use it to her advantage.

Suddenly Mark stilled. Deep inside he knew that she was right and that he was making things worse. But she was his. He wanted her all to himself. He wanted to fix all that and make her forget about his mistakes and about that other man, who seemed far more interested in her than a business deal.

Before she could pull away, he scooped her up into his arms and headed toward the bed.

"We need to reconcile. And I am not taking no for an answer."

​"Let go of me!" she gasped.

​The moment he threw her onto the mattress, Lyvana didn’t wait. She scrambled across the silk sheets, putting some distance between them.

Then she got up, her chest heaving as she pointed a shaking finger at him.

​"You’re crossing the line, Mark!"

​Mark stood at the edge of the bed. "You’re my fiancée. There are no lines between us."

​Mark took a deep breath, his shoulders dropping as he tried to hide his anger behind a calm mask. He smoothed his hair back, looking at her. Forcing her was never going to work anymore.

​"If you don’t want to... fine. I won’t force you," he said. "I’m not that kind of man, Liv. You know that."

She never knew him at all.

But she knew she had to keep him calm, at least while this farce of a relationship continued. She forced her voice to remain steady.

​"It’s not that I don’t want to," she lied, her eyes flickering toward the door. "I’m just not in the mood. With everything that happened lately. Look am just exhausted ok."

"You’re right, and am sorry. ​Tell me what I can do to mend this. I will do anything! Whatever you want, babe," he pleaded, stepping toward the edge of the bed again.

Lyvana didn’t buy this sudden softness for a single second. She now knew the real Mark. To her, he didn’t look like a loving fiancé; he looked like a predator trying a different tactic because the first one failed.

​In her past life, they had held this exact conversation before. Back then, she had threatened to call off the engagement, but the argument had been about Clarisse and the whispers of his infidelity. Now, the players had changed, but Mark’s script remained the same.

"Try to be more supportive of my work. Most at times, it’s like you don’t even care. And perhaps try to be a little more trusting. I can’t be with a man who acts like a jerk, every time he gets jealous."

That hit a nerve.

Deep down, he knew she was right. He felt a sharp pang of guilt as he remembered how easily he had believed some woman. He had helped her plan to destroy his own fiancée’s image. He hadn’t even stopped to think that maybe — just maybe — she was telling lies.

"I’ll fix it," he said. "Whatever it takes. I’ll be better. I’ll be the man you need me to be."

The exact same words he had said back then too.

A sharp knock sounded at the door.