Fake Marriage with the CEO (A Billionaire Romance)

by Amanda Horton

  All this time, she’d carried the guilt of using his name and power to further her own dreams. She’d even fallen in love with him! But he was always one step ahead of her. He manipulated her. He knew everything about her—including what buttons to push to get the reaction he wanted.

  “Oh, my God!” Miranda moaned.

  How could she have been so blind? His kindness. His seeming thoughtfulness, always anticipating her every move...like he knew her. He did. Her life was all laid out in the file she found inside his drawer. The betrayal went deep — right to her very core. She’d believed in him.

  Miranda used every bit of strength she had left to stand. She was crushed. It was all an illusion. An illusion concocted by a master illusionist, far beyond her league. She struggled even to breathe. The room choked her. She rose to leave.

  The office door opened. Wolfe strode in. “Why didn’t you let Jenna call me? I would have come back if I knew you were here.” He said with the smile that always seemed just for her.

  Miranda swayed. This was too much.

  Wolfe stepped toward her, taking in her expression. “What’s wrong? If it’s about last night, I took care of it.”

  Miranda found her fury. “Yes. You took care of it. Just like you took care to make sure I’d fall in with your engagement plan. What else have you been taking care of?”

  His eyes widened. “What are you talking about?”

  Miranda just shook her head. She shoved the file into his hands and stormed past him toward the door.

  Wolfe glanced at the file and his face went pale. “Miranda, please let me explain. It's not what you think.”

  Miranda looked back, only to shake her head. She could view his shock without any emotion. She felt dead inside, beyond pain, beyond shock, beyond anything. “It’s over, Wolfe.” It had to be. Miranda doubted she would ever recover from the pain of his betrayal. “I don’t ever want to see you again.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Wolfe Hawkins studied the toxicology report on his table. His jaw clenched tightly as he read. His eyes flashed dangerously. He threw the report down, and stalked toward the window. His voice was cold when he spoke. “You’re sure about all this, Simms?”

  Simms stood at attention. He blanched at the steel in Wolfe’s voice. “The chemical found in the tainted batch of tablets was the same substance found in the food boxes at the Center as well as the food from Miranda’s catering company. All the lab results agree.”

  Wolfe remained silent while digesting the information. When he spoke again, there was no trace of emotion in his voice. “And the footage from the surveillance camera? Is it clear enough to identify the culprit?”

  “Yes. He made no attempt to hide his identity. He must have heard the rumor I floated about.”

  Wolfe narrowed his eyes. “What exactly was the rumor?”

  The security officer’s expression turned smug. “The Security Department was dismantling all cameras in the production floor for twenty-four hours to upgrade the system. I predicted the twenty-four-hour timetable would give the matter the urgency needed for our culprit to risk another move.”

  Wolfe cracked his knuckles. “And the baker? Did he confess?”

  “Yes. Guido Vincenzo admitted he was paid a thousand dollars to add a packet of unknown powder to a sack of flour at the kitchen. He stayed behind after the rest of the crew left, pretending to help clean up. He knew they would be using the ingredient the next day for the party. He claims he doesn’t know the person who paid him but can I.D. him if they met again.”

  The furious burn in Wolfe’s gut turned into a flagrant inferno. He didn’t want revenge. He wanted to get rid of the culprit permanently. He knew Simms would have no hesitation doing the job. The person would never be heard or seen again — if he ordered it.

  “Where is he now?”

  “At my office in the basement,” Simms replied. “He was a chemist when your dad hired him. I don’t think anybody remembered that until I went through his old job application from the archives. That’s probably why he knew how to make the stuff and how to use it.”

  “Thank you, Simms.” Wolfe headed for the door.

  Simms sprinted after his boss. For a moment, Wolfe considered sending him away, but changed his mind. Since all the chaos began, Simms had proven himself invaluable. He needed him close by.

  ***

  As Wolfe strode into Simms basement office, Bruce raised a sweaty brow toward him. “Wolfe, what's the meaning of this? Why are your men holding me here like some lowlife criminal? Don’t they know who I am?”

  He did not look to be having a good day. Two burly guards stood either side of the door, their unflinching gaze turned on Bruce. For a man used to strutting the halls of Hawkins Pharmaceutical, in unquestioned arrogance, being confined to the basement office was intimidating.

  Wolfe’s lip curled in disdain as he pulled up a chair, sat astride it and faced his stepfather. “They know, all right. They know you’re lowlife scum who has been leeching off the Hawkins name for years.”

  The deadly calm in his voice and the withering look he cast the old man terminated any bravado left in Bruce. “But-but what have I done?”

  “Let’s start with your corporate sabotage. That alone could put you in prison for life.” Wolfe stared hard at his stepfather. “Did you even know that deliberate use of a toxic chemical is a criminal offense?”

  “What t-toxic chemicals? I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Bruce whined.

  Wolfe caught Simms’s eye and nodded. Simms produced a TV remote and pressed the ON button. A monitor came to life, drawing the attention of everyone in the room. The footage was clear, showing a man enter the empty production line, making straight toward a vat where he dumped the contents of a package into the mix. Simms hit PAUSE. There was no mistaking the identity of the man. Bruce’s features were there on the screen, for all to see.

  Wolfe spoke in a low voice. “Beryllium Cuprochloride, commonly known as malicious powder. It fuses thoroughly with any substance. You never know how it will manifest itself after undergoing a heat process, hence the name ‘malicious.’ In the batch of adulterated medical pills, it appeared as tiny spots, almost invisible to the eye. In baked products, it turns the dough into a paste after an hour. The same substance you used the first time you tried to sabotage this company. The same substance in the food boxes at the soup kitchen. The same substance you paid someone to put in with the flour at Miranda’s kitchen. I am willing to bet my life that after the toxicology results come back of the mix in the vat, we are sure to find the very same malicious powder.”

  Bruce visibly paled. There was no trace of his usual cockiness as he tried to worm his way out of this debacle. “That tape doesn’t prove anything. It’s circumstantial evidence.”

  Wolfe smirked. “I think the court will disagree — especially when I present the baker you paid to contaminate Miranda’s ingredients. He’s positive he can I.D. the man driving a Bentley three blocks away from Dream Kitchen.”

  Bruce’s mouth moved wordlessly too shocked to speak.

  But Wolfe wasn’t finished with him yet.

  “You see, Bruce, the thing about arrogance is that it blinds you. Your first attempt succeeded. You thought you were untouchable. That shaken by scandal, the company would demand stronger leadership — that you could return to your former position, running Hawkins Pharmaceutical with your wife. But things didn’t work out how you planned. The tablets were discovered before they went on the market, and security tightened. But, you needed to ensure the Hawkins name would go down by poisoning the food boxes intended for the Center. I stopped it just in time. You should have given up then, but no—you wanted to be a demigod in Mom’s eyes. So you made secret arrangements with another catering company to be on standby the night of the party because you knew something was bound to show in Miranda’s food.”

  Bruce Simpson sagged in his seat, like a deflated hot air balloon. His face turned purplish, a vein pulsing vio
lently in his temple. He made no attempt to defend himself. The evidence was too clear.

  “That was your first mistake. You think we’re stupid not to notice how quickly the new caterers arrived?” Wolfe stood up. “I’m done with this piece of shit, Simms. Turn him over to the police.”

  As Wolfe headed for the door, Bruce hurtled towards his retreating figure and clutched onto his leg.

  Simms raised a gun. “Unhand him or I’ll fire!”

  Wolfe put a hand up, signaling Simms to stand down. Bruce was no threat.

  Bruce groveled at his stepson’s feet. “Please Wolfe! Don’t turn me over to the police. I’ll do anything you ask. I was angry with you. Think about Diane. She won’t live through that kind of scandal. Please!”

  Wolfe stiffened. He doubted Bruce was actually concerned about Diane’s state of mind. He’d say anything to save his ass. But there was some truth to what Bruce said. Once the news of Bruce’s arrest got out, the media would hound Diane. He didn’t want his mom hurt.

  “Stand up,” he ordered his stepfather. “I won’t turn you over to the police only because I want to protect my mother. Simms will take you to the airport. You will get on the first plane out of the city and stay away from us forever. If I find out that you’ve returned or even try to contact Mom, I will turn over these tapes to the police, and personally see you thrown in jail. Is that understood?”

  Bruce bobbed his head as he babbled his agreement. “You’ll never hear from me again, I swear!”

  Simms nodded to his men. Before Bruce could utter another word, the two burly men took Bruce by one arm each, manhandling him out the door. “We’ll see him on the first flight out of the city,” Simms told Wolfe. “He’ll never show his face in New York again.”

  ***

  Back at Dream Kitchen, Miranda stared down at her ring finger. She looked at the engagement ring with incredulity. She didn’t understand what it was still doing on her finger. She’d just returned from the office of Wolfe’s lawyer, James Collins, determined to honor her side of the agreement. Her head still spun, her ears ringing. She couldn’t make herself understand what the lawyer had said.

  “Knock! Knock!” Lexi popped her head through the doorway of the office.

  Miranda looked up from studying the ring. She signaled her assistant to come in, massaging her temple to clear her head.

  “Have time for a little gossip?” Lexi asked.

  “It better be a little.” Miranda motioned toward the pile of papers on her desk. “I was just about to go through all these requests for our catering service. I can’t believe we’re booked for the next couple of months. I’ve already had to decline some requests. We need to hire more people.”

  “It’s all good, right?” Lexi’s smile was sympathetic.

  Miranda knew why. Lexi had known Miranda wasn’t doing well before she’d even told her about the breakup with Wolfe. She’d stood by her, just as she’d supported Miranda as she picked up the pieces after the Guggenheim debacle. She winced at the reminder of that night. Back then, both women were braced for the worse. They were sure word would spread fast about how dismally Dream Kitchen failed its debut. “I thought we were gonna close shop even before we started.”

  “Just shows that someone up there loves you.” Lexi pointed a finger toward the ceiling. “When one door closes, a window opens up. Or something like that.”

  “Yes... But this feels more like someone opened the floodgates.” Miranda sank into her chair. She still couldn’t wrap her mind around how many people were clamoring for Dream Kitchen’s services.

  “Just be happy you didn’t turn into some pariah of the food industry.”

  Miranda didn’t smile. Her dream was slowly coming true. So why wasn’t she happy? Her days were full and she buried herself in work, hoping to ease the emptiness inside. But it just sat there like a huge lump inside her chest. She realized she was clutching the engagement ring and quickly let go. “Yeah, I’m happy.”

  Lexi shook her head. “Miranda Okafor, you can’t fool me. You’re moping like a lost kitten.”

  Miranda shrugged. Although Lexi knew she called off the engagement, she didn’t know the whole story. She’d left out the details of how Wolfe totally manipulated her. Despite everything, a huge part of her still wanted to protect his reputation. “So, what’s this gossip you talked about?”

  Lexi gasped excitedly. “That’s right!” She unrolled the newspaper she carried in her hand, rifling through its pages.

  Miranda rolled her eyes. “This better not be another Hollywood divorce.” She snickered. “You’re the only person I know who cried when Angie and Brad called it quits.”

  “Oh, this is much closer to home.” Lexi laid the paper down with a flourish. “Take a look.”

  Miranda picked it up and started reading. Her eyes grew wide in shock. “Diane and Bruce? They divorced?”

  “Uh-huh. It’s right there in print.” Lexi replied.

  “But why? This is all so sudden!”

  “There are no details. Just the announcement.”

  Miranda stared at the article. Diane and Bruce seemed devoted to each other. She may not have liked Bruce, but Diane had always been kind and welcoming. She knew the woman must be devastated. “I should go see her.”

  “Yeah, you should. Maybe run into the son as well and ask how he is coping?” Lexi teased.

  Miranda suppressed a wince. “I’m sure Wolfe is fine. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s already with someone else.”

  “You are absolutely clueless when it comes to the male species, aren’t you? Men need time to get over a breakup too, you know.”

  Miranda felt a stab of hope at the idea that took her totally off-guard. Was she really petty enough to want Wolfe to hurt? Or was the idea of Wolfe with another woman just that painful? She wasn’t ready to know and wasn’t absolutely certain she ever would be.

  She remembered the look on his face in his office as he pleaded with her to listen. I wish I had listened. Maybe then I’d have something to hold on to—anything—to make this separation bearable. They could at least have agreed to remain friends. She knew she would have settled for that. Instead, there was just this gnawing loneliness inside her chest that nothing, not even devoting herself to her kitchen, hungry regulars, and growing clientele could ease.

  Maybe Diane would understand. Miranda hesitated. “If I go to see Diane, could you—”

  “Cover for you?” Lexi gave her a thumb up. “Naturally. I’m gunning for your job, remember!”

  ***

  Miranda scanned the teahouse nervously. As she saw Diane waiting at a table, dressed with her usual elegance, she was suddenly assailed with doubts that she’d done the right thing. Maybe Diane wouldn’t want to talk about something as sensitive as her divorce from Bruce.

  But Diane greeted her with her usual warmth. “It’s so good to see you, my dear.”

  Miranda tried to find any signs of sorrow on the regal lady’s face. There was nothing. She looked radiant and happy. Whatever anguish she’s feeling, she’s hiding it well. “Diane... I came as soon as I read about the divorce in the papers. I was shocked. You and Bruce seemed so...together. I thought maybe you’d need some…”

  “Comforting?” Diane’s eyes were understanding.

  Miranda nodded.

  “My dear girl, that’s so sweet of you.” Diane leaned in, lowering her voice. “It’s actually quite a relief. I knew early on that I made a mistake marrying Bruce. But he was so loyal to me, I felt compelled to reward it with my own. So I stayed. But he crossed the line when he tried to sabotage Wolfe and the company. That is something I can never forgive.”

  Miranda’s jaw dropped. “Sabotage?”

  “You didn’t know?” Diane hesitated, and then evidently came to a decision. She put her teacup down, and began a businesslike recital of events, completely at odds with her high-society appearance.

  Miranda sat there, her mouth wide open, mind whirling as Diane revealed the entire story o
f Bruce’s sabotage.

  “So you see, my dear, Bruce was also responsible for the disaster over your catering at the party. He paid someone from your crew to tamper with your ingredients. But Wolfe became suspicious when Bruce’s replacement caterer turned up with dishes already prepared. He personally took a sample of your baking to a toxicology lab. They discovered traces of the same chemical found in the batch of contaminated medicine. The rest was easy.”

  Miranda shook her head, trying to get her thoughts into some kind of order. “It was Bruce?”

  Suddenly it all made sense. The suspicious way Bruce had hung around the kitchen that night, watching their every move. He’d known something would go wrong. And when they discovered it, how quickly he’d produced another caterer as a solution. And the worker... Miranda knew at once who it must be. Guido. The guy hadn’t shown up to work after that night.