I Slapped My Fiancé—Then Married His Billionaire Nemesis

I was flicking through crap cable channels when a nurse came in.

‘Mrs Laurent, there’s a man outside who wants to see you.’

I sat up. ‘Did he give a name?’

‘A Rhys Granger.’

I sat back down. ‘I’m not receiving visitors.’

‘Noted.’

She came back a minute later. ‘He says he has urgent business to discuss and refuses to leave.’

‘Call security.’

‘Got it, Mrs Laurent.’

Two hours later, my phone lit up with Louisa Granger’s name.

I almost didn’t answer. I should’ve followed that instinct.

She launched into it before I even said hello.