The Billionaire's Favourite Mistake(42)

There was so much about that statement that bothered her. One thing in  particular stuck out, though. "You haven't decided which one you're  going to marry yet, Vader?"

The sound he made was derisive. "Does it matter?"

Well, she imagined it mattered quite a bit to the girls. "I think it does. Do you love them?"

He gave her a dismissive look. "As long as they're not fucking that asshole best man, I don't care what they do."

Asshole best man? Asher? "You don't like Asher? I don't understand. Did you two have a falling out?"

"We never had a falling in." He frowned at a proof and picked up a  magnifying glass, leaning over the picture. Then, he offered it to  Greer. "Do you think her labia should be photoshopped?"

Like she cared? "Why is Asher your best man if you hate him?"

Her father nudged the picture at her again. "This is important, Greer. What do you think of this woman's genitals?"

She wasn't going to get an answer until she gave him what he wanted, was she? She looked down at the picture. "She's fine."

"I think I'll have them photoshopped anyhow, just to be safe."

"Asher?"

Stijn turned another page.

"Asher?" Greer repeated. "Why is he your best man?"

Stijn glanced up at her briefly, then went back to the pictures. "It was part of our deal."

"Your . . . deal? What deal?" What on earth was going on?         

     



 

He put down the magnifying glass and gave her an exasperated look. "Greer, I'm very busy right now."

She slapped a hand over the pictures, covering them. "Tell me what deal  you had right now, or I'm walking out that door and not coming back."

Stijn gave her a cold look and pried her fingers off the glossy page.  "No need to be dramatic. We made a business deal, he and I. He is going  to give Dutchman magazine an influx of cash and in exchange, I'm going  to allow him to be my best man."

That was . . . the most nonsensical thing she'd ever heard. "Why does he want to be your best man?"

"Ask him. The wedding was his idea."

Alarm bells sounded somewhere in the back of her mind. "Wait . . . what? You didn't want to get married?"

"If I didn't want to marry your mother, why would I want to marry one of those interchangeable idiots?"

"I . . . I don't know," she stammered. "And they're not-"

"Look. Greer." Her father took on the patient tone that she'd heard him  use when business dealings weren't going his way. "Sutton offered me  the money if I would put on a fake wedding for him. It's been a great  idea and we both get what we want."

"And what is it you both want?" She wanted to hear him say it, to see if it sounded as terrible aloud as it did in her mind.

Stijn sat back in his chair. "I wanted to save Dutchman. It's very  difficult being a paper magazine in these digital times, Greer. I needed  the money to make new investments, but I don't even know if those will  be necessary. The wedding with the girls has brought new attention to  the company. As for what he wanted?" Her father shrugged. "I suppose he  wanted to put on this ridiculous wedding so he'd have a chance to be  close to you."

It had been what she suspected, but hearing it said aloud somehow made it ten times worse.

Her father had zero respect for any of the three girls he was lining up  to marry. Nor had he bothered to tell Greer that the wedding was a  sham, and that she'd be working her ass off for nothing. Not for  nothing, a cynical voice said in her mind. You gave Asher exactly what  he wanted.

She had. She'd eagerly jumped into his bed and now he was trying to get  his hooks in her baby. And she was an idiot, because being around him  for a few weeks and being romanced? She'd fallen for all of it.

The betrayal hurt, and it hurt worse than the time in the gardens  because she'd let her guard down again. She'd known he'd hurt her in the  past and she was still willing to give him another shot. To let him be  the man she'd always wanted him to be. To prove to her that he could  love her, because she wanted it so desperately.

Hot damn, I love you, Greer. He'd whispered that to her just last night.

How could she trust anything he said? The lies were just cascading  around her left and right. She got to her feet, feeling shaky.

"Tell Bunni I want her fasting starting now." He picked up his magnifying glass and peered at the photo proofs again.

Greer stared down at her father. Did he not care that she'd been  manipulated? That she'd been working night and day on the wedding that  was nothing but a stunt? And no one had bothered to tell her it was a  stunt?

Did he even care about her at all?

"You tell her," Greer said softly. "I quit."

"You can't quit." He didn't look up from the proofs.

"I just did. You lied to me. I'm very upset, Vader." Her voice was  calm, but her hands were clenched at her sides to stop them from  shaking. She was so upset she . . . well, she wanted to cry. And throw  things. And maybe throw up. "I'm quitting. You can finish planning your  wedding yourself, since it's all fake."

Stijn looked up, real panic on his face. "You can't quit, Greer. We've two days before the wedding."

She paused. He really did look upset. But she had to ask. "Are you  upset because I'm unhappy? Or are you upset because I'm quitting?"         

     



 

He hesitated.

That little hesitation was all it took. "Fuck you. Fuck you for not  respecting me or my time, and fuck you for not respecting those three  girls you're dangling the marriage carrot in front of. They're people,  Vader. They're people and they deserve to be treated like people. So  fuck you. I'm done here."

She turned and stormed out of his office. Stormed up the stairs.  Stormed into her room. Threw her clothes into her suitcase and shoved  all of her things into it as quickly as she could. She was leaving.  Leaving Vegas, leaving Asher and his games behind, leaving Kiki and  Bunni and Tiffi and her father to do whatever the hell they wanted. If  they wanted to get married still, she wanted no part in any of it.

She felt so . . . used. Like less than a person. Completely unimportant.

Greer had realized, staring into her father's face, that he didn't care  about her. To him, she was like one of the triplets. Disposable and  convenient. It didn't matter that she was his only daughter and that he  should have loved her. He didn't know how to love anyone. But she'd  known all her life that Stijn was, at heart, an asshole. To have it  confirmed hurt, but it wasn't surprising.

Asher's betrayals had gutted her, though. She didn't know why he'd  choose to manipulate and use her, but she guessed it had to do with the  baby. Aching hurt blossomed through her chest, and she wheeled her  suitcase down the steps, letting it thump on the hardwood. Every thump  was like a fuck you to the world.

Fuck you to her father.

Fuck you to the wedding.

Fuck you to Asher.

Fuck you, Asher.

Fuck you.

By the time she got to the bottom of the stairs, someone had come out  of the kitchen to see what was going on. Marta stood there, wiping her  hands, concern on her lined face. "Mija, what's wrong? Why are you  leaving?"

Greer tried to think of a nice, calm answer. She stood in the hallway  and thought and thought, and her lower lip pushed out and trembled, and  then she was crying.

"My poor mamacita." Marta enfolded Greer in her arms and led her to the  kitchen, rubbing her back. "You come sit with me and tell me all about  it."

***

Something was wrong.

Asher had texted Greer all night, only to get no response. He'd known  she was busy, but she normally made time for his texts, taking a few  moments here and there to send him sweet, funny notes throughout the  day.

Today had been nothing but silence, and it worried him. Was she sick?  Was the baby okay? As long as Greer was okay, he could handle anything,  even if she'd miscarried. It would destroy him, but he loved her too  much to let her go. His hands clenched on the steering wheel as he drove  up to the Dutchman castle. Just let Greer be all right. Nothing else  matters.

Greer's practical little rental wasn't in the driveway. That wasn't  surprising, but it sent a shiver down his spine anyhow. He went to the  front door and banged on it a few times. He could hear voices inside,  and chaos. Someone was sobbing. Someone else sounded as if they were  screaming. It made his heart feel as if it were encased with ice.

Something was really wrong.

When no one opened the fucking front door, he jiggled the lock until it  opened and let himself in. "Hello?" he called out, storming into the  house. There were boxes everywhere, and folding tables lined the foyer  and every inch of wall space. The crying was coming from the dining room  where Greer normally held her meetings, and he headed that way. Just  let Greer be all right.

Inside the dining hall, he saw the triplets and a few other people he  didn't recognize. The long table they normally sat at was trashed, every  inch of it covered in papers and what looked like the remains of a  bridesmaid's gown. An older woman in an apron stood hugging one of the  girls as she sobbed into her shoulder.