I Slapped My Fiancé—Then Married His Billionaire Nemesis

It wasn’t until I’d strutted out of the building that I realised maybe I’d been a tad impulsive.

But holy shit, it felt good.

I was halfway down the street when my phone rang.

‘Mrs Laurent,’ Dominic greeted.

I physically flinched.

Hearing it out loud was way worse than seeing it in a text.

‘Mr Everett.’

‘Please, just call me Dom. I just wanted to remind you,’ he went on, all polite and corporate, ‘that if there’s no activity on the card, the account will be frozen before the next monthly deposit.’

I stopped dead on the pavement. ‘What do you mean “frozen”?’

‘I mean you must spend the funds. There needs to be a transaction history, or the account locks automatically.’

I stared at my reflection in a shop window.

My mouth opened.