The Act

by Stella Gray

  “You will recall, Mara, that we had a deal,” my father said.

  A deal? What possible deal could Emzee have with my parents? I moved closer.

  “Now, we have already warned you that you’d better not get pregnant,” my mother said. “But you two seem awfully close for a fake couple. So it seemed prudent to take this opportunity to remind you that this marriage ends cleanly.”

  My fists clenched, my stomach turning. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

  “If you get yourself pregnant, we’ll have to say it isn’t his,” my father added.

  My mother chimed in, “And trust us, darling, when we finish smearing you in the press, not even a DNA test will convince the world that our son is the father.”

  I stood there in the hallway, shock seeping into my system.

  I’d never told my parents that it was a fake marriage.

  Suddenly, the pieces started coming together, and I realized why Emzee had pulled away from me. Why things had changed between us so drastically after the wedding. Why her behavior had been so hot and cold, why she continued to put up walls and deny her feelings for me when, day by day, our connection felt so real.

  It wasn’t because of anything I’d done, or because she didn’t truly care for me. It was because my parents had gotten involved. They had hated the idea of me marrying anyone but Claudia, so they’d pulled out all the stops and gone after Emzee to make sure we didn’t stay together.

  And the only way she would have gotten so tangled up in their web of deceit was if they had something on her. Something bad.

  They’d been threatening her all along.

  Emzee

  Chapter 27

  Numb with shock, I was frozen to the floor as Mrs. Malone’s words stabbed me in the gut. There was a cruel smirk on her face as she threatened me, saying that if I got pregnant, she’d tell the world I was a liar and that the baby wasn’t Ford’s.

  Truthfully, starting a family wasn’t something I had dared to think about much—not when I knew a divorce was looming in my future, not when my relationship with Ford was constantly giving me whiplash, and especially not when I hadn’t grown up with the best parenting role model in my father. Plus, I still felt like a kid myself sometimes. I had no business trying to get pregnant. It certainly wasn’t something I had been planning.

  But the way the Malones were looking at me and speaking to me made me feel like a gold digger. Like trash. Did they actually think I was plotting to have Ford’s baby?

  If it weren’t for the fundraiser tonight, I would have just run from the room and turned my back on the senior Malones for good. Nothing was worth the harassment I’d endured at their hands. I could spend the next nine or so months hunkered down at Ford’s place, and simply make plans to be out of the house whenever they came over for their regular dinners with Ford.

  I still couldn’t tell my husband about the devil’s bargain I’d made with his parents, or how they continued to blackmail me at every turn, but I could at least stay as far away from the Malones as possible. Set a firm boundary. After all, it was self-preservation. Even if Ford thought I was being unbearably rude, I’d stand my ground.

  Then, without warning, he burst into the library.

  “Oh, Ford dear,” his mother said sweetly. “There you are. We were just—”

  “Don’t,” he said, his voice cold.

  I bit my lip, my eyes darting back and forth, my stomach in knots. I suspected by his tone, his expression, that he’d probably heard everything. That he understood what was going on—maybe not entirely, but enough to know that his parents had just been bullying me.

  Ford moved to stand at my side, confirming my suspicions when he opened his mouth again to tell them off. “What have you done? What did you say to her?” he demanded.

  “This is none of your concern,” Mr. Malone said gruffly.

  But my husband wasn’t backing down. “It is, though. I heard enough from the hall. And I’d wager you two are the reason our relationship hasn’t been able to move forward. So what do you have on her?”

  My pulse quickened, adrenaline pumping hard. My secret was this close to being out.

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re being silly,” Ford’s mother said.

  “I know how you two operate,” Ford shot back, undeterred by her denials. “What are you threatening her with?”

  “Threatening? How melodramatic. I’m sure we don’t know what you’re talking about,” Mr. Malone scoffed. “Enough with these theatrics.”

  Ford’s mother crossed the room with her hand out, but Ford flinched out of her reach. She shot me a glare.

  “Tell him, Mara. Is there anything we could possibly be threatening you with?”

  I was up against a wall and she knew it. There was obviously no way I was going to out myself to Ford. The last thing I wanted to do was admit that the Russian mob was after my whole family, and that the Malones’ offer to pay them off—in exchange for agreeing to leave Ford—was the only way I could save us all.

  “No,” I said quietly, dropping my eyes to the floor.

  “Em—” Ford said, turning me to face him. “Look at me.”

  “It’s nothing,” I insisted, but I couldn’t meet his gaze and I knew he wasn’t fooled.

  Ford looked back at his parents. “You think I believe you?” he said. “I heard the words coming out of your mouths!”

  He was livid. The anger I’d seen on his face when he found Andrew trying to make a move on me in the hotel hallway was nothing compared to this. Then, he’d been red faced and furious. Now, he was so angry that his entire body was radiating tension and danger, like a taut wire about to snap.

  “Perhaps you misheard—” his mother began.

  “No. I didn’t,” Ford said, interrupting. “So know this, both of you: Whatever you’re trying to do, whatever you told Emzee, whatever you think is going to happen in the future—I am not giving her up. I will fight for the woman I love.”

  Love? Ford loved me? And this is how I was hearing it for the first time?

  Mrs. Malone’s mouth had fallen open, and I could see the shock in her eyes. I wasn’t sure if Ford had ever spoken to her that way before.

  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing, either. Ford Malone had just said he loved me. Declared it forcefully. Was it real, or just for show? It felt real, but I was afraid to trust it.

  “Son. There’s no need for all this yelling. Let us explain,” Ford’s father tried, but Ford was having none of it—if anything, it seemed to stoke his anger even more.

  “Fuck your explanations. Nothing you can say is going to drive us apart,” Ford said.

  If it was just a show, it was clear judging by the shock on his parents’ faces that it had worked. That his words had done what they intended to do—get the Malones to back off. Because they didn’t say another word as Ford took my hand and led me out of the room. His parents didn’t try to stop us, didn’t even try to argue.

  As he whisked me down the hallway, back toward the guest room where I’d been getting ready, he lifted my hand to his lips and gently kissed the back of my knuckles. I was buzzing.

  “I meant it, Emzee. Every word. I’m not going to let them come between us.” We got to the room and he locked the door behind us, took a breath, and then looked down at me. “Please tell me you feel the same.”

  As if it was that easy.

  I searched his eyes, and I knew he was being honest with me. But it wasn’t as simple as us loving each other. The situation was much more complicated. My family was at risk without the Malones’ support. The Bratva could hurt us. Financially, reputationally, even physically.

  Right now, though, I was too moved—too in love—to deny what I was feeling.

  “Ever since you rescued me seven years ago, I’ve been in love with you,” I confessed.

  Cupping my face, he drew me in for a kiss, so long and hard it took my breath away.

  “I know,” he said. “Or I tho
ught I knew. I guess I didn’t want things to change between us, and now…there’s just so much I wish I would have done differently. God, I was an idiot.”

  I had to grin. “I would agree with that.”

  He sank onto the bed, taking me with him. His hands held mine tightly as if he was afraid to let me go. “Why didn’t you tell me what was going on with them?”

  Shaking my head, I said, “I didn’t want to drive a wedge between you and your parents. I thought I could handle it. And I didn’t think it mattered one way or the other.”

  It was the truth, even if it wasn’t the whole truth. But I could tell Ford all about the Bratva later. We’d have plenty of time for the hard conversations now that he had committed himself to me. To us.

  “It matters,” Ford said, and then he was kissing me again like he never wanted to stop. My lips, my cheeks, my forehead, my throat. “I love you, Emzee.”

  “I love you too,” I said.

  He pulled me into his arms and we fell back onto the bed together, kissing and holding each other. We would probably be late for the fundraiser, but I didn’t care.

  As our kiss deepened, Ford helped me wiggle out of my clothes. When I was finally naked and stretched out on the bed, he stepped back to strip down and I watched him appreciatively, enjoying every inch of his gorgeous body. I didn’t think I would ever get over the joy of knowing that he was mine. That he wanted me just as much as I wanted him.

  By the time he was on top of me again, I was dripping wet. He let out a groan when he realized how ready I was for him.

  “You feel so good on my hand,” he whispered, fingering me as I grabbed his cock.

  “I’m going to feel even better when you’re inside me,” I told him, nudging his hand aside and tugging his hard length down between my open legs.

  He plunged inside easily, with one smooth, gliding motion, and I gasped as he stretched me wide, dipping his head down to take my nipple into his mouth. Using his tongue and his teeth, he teased me as his dick began pumping deeper and deeper. I was on fire for him. Every thrust felt deliciously perfect, the friction sending hot bolts of pleasure through both of us.

  We were fucking desperately, hungrily, grinding hard against each other as we found our rhythm. I wanted him to fill me up completely.

  “More,” I murmured. “I want more.”

  He groaned as I wrapped my legs tight around his waist, pulling him even deeper inside.

  “I can’t—I’m going to come too fast,” Ford warned.

  “I want you to,” I told him.

  Our eyes met, and he increased the pace, his breath coming in short, harsh gasps.

  “Come with me,” Ford said.

  “Yes.”

  I started moaning softly, and Ford covered my mouth with his. He pulled back to look me in the eyes again, and our connection was so hot and so intense that I felt tears welling up. I was overwhelmed by love and grateful we were together.

  “I love you,” I said.

  “I love you,” he said, kissing me again, his tongue matching the thrusts of his cock stroke for stroke. Faster and faster he pumped, and I slid my hands down to grip his firm ass, trying to drive him even deeper inside me.

  “Yes, yes, yes,” I moaned, closing my eyes and letting the sensations overwhelm me.

  Suddenly the rippling wave of my orgasm started to spill over, and I could feel the moment it started happening, bursts of pleasure twisting inside me, unstoppable now, my pussy clenching around him.

  “Ford,” I panted, blinking back tears.

  “Fuck yes, Emzee,” he groaned, pumping faster and faster. “I’m coming.”

  He shuddered as he let go inside me, coming in short, breathless jerks, and I dug my fingers into his shoulders to hold him even tighter. It felt like there was nothing else in the world as we climaxed in each other’s arms. Just me and Ford and the love we shared.

  Emzee

  Chapter 28

  “Better finish getting ready, love,” Ford was saying, rubbing my back. “The fundraiser awaits. I think if we hurry, we might even get there on time.”

  Letting out a drowsy sigh I sat up, smiling at my husband. “Let’s hop to it, then.”

  I was satiated and happy—so, so happy—but I still needed to make it through tonight’s event. After that, no more bending over backwards to stay on the good side of Claudia and Ford’s parents. I had no idea what the future held, but I promised myself that I was going to meet it bravely. Even if that meant rocking the boat a little.

  Or a lot.

  “Your dress?” Ford said, handing me the garment bag. He had already slipped into his tux, which took him all of three minutes flat. I envied him.

  “Thank you,” I said. “Can you hand me my purse? My MAC lipstick is in there.”

  “As the lady wishes.”

  But when I propped the bag open, I saw something tucked in there that I’d somehow forgotten about. The Test. Because I was a tiny bit late.

  I was sure I had nothing to worry about, but after the brouhaha with Ford’s parents, I was on edge. I figured now was as good a time as any to just take it, confirm what I already knew, and be done with it. That way I could banish the niggling worry in the back of my mind.

  Grabbing my lipstick, I palmed the test and slipped them both into my makeup bag. Then I zipped it up and tucked it under my arm.

  “You know what?” I said, trying to sound casual. “I think I’ll fix my hair and makeup in the bathroom, and then you can help me into my dress afterward. Shouldn’t take too long.”

  “Sure,” he said from the wingback chair he was sitting in, glancing up from his phone with a smile. “And try not to stress. You already look perfect.”

  He had no reason to be suspicious of me; the guest bath down the hall had a luxurious full vanity with a cushioned velvet bench and a bunch of those Hollywood-style round bulbs spaced out around the mirror. It was basically fit for a princess. I’d mooned over it as a teenager.

  I kissed him on the cheek, adjusted his bow tie, and headed down the hall.

  First things first, I locked myself in and peed on the stick. I was supposed to get my results in five minutes, so I set it on the back of the toilet tank and then busied myself doing my makeup in front of the vanity.

  Luckily, I didn’t need to do a full face, just freshen up my skin with some blotting paper and powder and spend a few minutes turning my daytime eyes and lips into evening look. Liquid eyeliner, a fresh coat of mascara, and a swipe of deep burgundy eyeshadow later, I was just about ready to check on the test when I heard a knock.

  “Just a sec,” I called out, assuming it was Ford coming to check on me.

  But when I opened the door, it was Claudia, her blonde hair gleaming, her midnight blue evening gown flowing around her in a rustling cloud of tulle.

  My stomach dropped. “Um. Can I help you?”

  “I need to use this bathroom,” she said.

  “There’s another one right down the hall,” I told her, still standing in the door. I fought the urge to add, “So you can fuck directly off.” There were probably half a dozen bathrooms in the Malones’ mansion—she had to know that. Yet she’d busted into this one.

  Claudia let out a huge sigh, rolling her eyes. “I need to use this bathroom,” she repeated. “It has the good mirror. The best one in the whole house, you know.” She paused to give me a smug, self-satisfied look. “Actually, I guess you wouldn’t know. You haven’t really spent that much time here, have you?”

  Of course she had to remind me how well acquainted she was with the house and all the people in it. But the joke was on her. I’d known Ford years longer than Claudia had, and I sure as hell knew this was the money mirror. The last thing I wanted to do was start a fight about it, though. Especially not with the fundraiser less than an hour away.

  Shoving her way past me in a most unladylike fashion, Claudia flounced over to the vanity and leaned over to study her reflection. My eyes darted to the toilet in the corner. I sile
ntly prayed she wouldn’t suddenly decide she had to use it, because if she turned around, there was no way she’d miss the pink plastic pregnancy test sitting right there.

  Unsurprisingly, however, she was completely focused on her makeup and oblivious to me and my nerves. Thank God.

  “You look great,” I told her, partly to keep the peace but mostly to try coaxing her the hell out of there.

  “I know,” she said breezily, ignoring my attempts to get her out the door. “Is that MAC?”

  Her evil gaze had lit upon my prized red lipstick.

  “It’s Viva Glam,” I said.

  She was taking up too much space, dabbing on my lipstick and then frowning at it like it was distasteful, talking nonstop the whole time.

  “Ew. This is way too plum for me. I guess it’s meant for people with really pasty skin, like you. Pass me a cotton ball so I can get it off.”

  I sat back down on the bench and handed her a few cotton balls, hoping to get her on her way, but she continued fussing with her hair and lips as if we had all the time in the world. I’d never felt so claustrophobic. Her body, her heavy white floral perfume, and her voluminous dress were physically blocking me in against the wall. I couldn’t have gotten away if I’d tried.

  “It’s so weird you and Ford ended up together, isn’t it?” she asked, releasing a violent cloud of hairspray in my direction.

  Waving it away, I said, “What do you mean?”

  If anything, I’d always thought of our relationship—real or not—as the kind of thing that people assumed was just inevitable. We’d been close friends for almost a decade.

  Claudia shrugged. “Oh, well, you know. With everything that happened to you back in high school.”

  “You didn’t even go there,” I pointed out. “And what’s so weird about longtime friends getting together?”

  She turned to look at me pityingly. “I’m his longtime friend too, Em.”

  A flash of anger rippled through me hearing my nickname. I didn’t like anyone calling me Em that wasn’t a good friend or a family member. Claudia was neither. Not by a long shot.