The Billionaire Who Wasn't Mine

r voice trembling slightly. The tears sto

TV mounted on the wall, which was currently showing a baseball game. Most bars like this

my bag. A few taps on my screen, and the baseball game was rep

er was suspended. The image showed the company parking lot. My c

walked into the frame, fresh from a meeting the

was crys

d confident, dismissive. "I' ll just cry a little and tell him it' s for the weddin

e stared at the screen, then at Jennifer, thei

. His voice was slick and triumphant. "That' s my girl.

ssive kiss that left no doubt abou

only sound was the faint hum

he' d been punched in the gut. They were frozen

eball game reappeared on the scr

he crowd, my voice

e wondering," I announced

t. I didn' t look back. I could feel the weight of dozens of eyes on my

night air and breathed. It