I Slapped My Fiancé—Then Married His Billionaire Nemesis
Chapter 111 - 112 Rings

Chapter 111: Chapter 112 Rings

I was slouched on the couch, flicking through channels, when I noticed a white box on the coffee table.

Ashton came into the living room. ‘It’s for you. Open it.’

‘For me?’ I looked up, surprised, and reached for the box, flipping the lid open.

Inside were two rings.

I froze, my fingers hovering over the smooth metal.

He stepped into my line of sight, standing right in front of me. ‘They are our wedding rings.’

I glanced at the rings again. A pair of platinum bands, each with a small band of delicate diamonds embedded in them. The first letter of our names—‘M’ and ‘A’—engraved inside.

I didn’t reach for them. ‘What happened to the rings we wore to your grandfather’s party? I probably lost mine somewhere in the pool.’

‘It has been found, but that was a mere prop, bought at a moment’s notice.’

‘It was good enough to fool the guests.’

‘But not good enough for you.’

‘I’m not sure about this,’ I said. ‘We’ve already swapped gifts once, remember? The black gold ring I gave you, and the pendant with the grandidierite stone you gave me.’

Which was so valuable that I’d only worn it once before locking it away in a safe.

‘Those were gifts to commemorate the beginning of our collaboration. Wedding rings are different.’

‘Exactly. Wedding rings are different.’ Wearing them, in public, at all times, would transform our marriage from a line in a contract to a visible truth, seen and understood by everyone.

‘A ring would save you the hassle of having to explain yourself to everyone.’

‘I don’t have to explain myself to anyone anyway,’ I argued.

‘Including Mr Carter?’

‘Finn? What about him? He never asked me if I’m married. Why would he?’

Ashton stared at me. I was seated, he was standing, an angle that made his already imposing height feel even more overwhelming.

He didn’t say a word, but his silence pressed down on me so heavily, I felt compelled to explain myself.

‘Finn’s a friend. That’s all.’

‘That’s not what he thinks.’

‘You think he’s into me?’ I stared up at him, amazed.

‘I don’t think; I know.’

‘Come on, just because he took me out to lunch doesn’t mean he wants to get into my pants. I paid, by the way. Don’t you think he’d have insisted on picking up the tab if he wanted something in return? Isn’t that how things usually work? And, FYI, it’s lunch, not dinner. No alcohol involved.’

I stood up on the couch, so now I was towering above him.

‘I don’t like you throwing accusations at my friend. I also don’t like that you’d doubt my commitment to the contract. I said I’d be your fake wife for a year, and I keep my word, no matter what. I swear I’m not going to date another guy till our contract runs out, is that a good enough guarantee for you?’

Ashton was quiet for a long while.

Eventually, he said, ‘I didn’t mean to anger you.’

‘Well, you succeeded without trying.’

‘Maybe I didn’t make myself clear. I wasn’t implying that you were interested in dating Mr Carter, just that he might be interested in you.’

‘I can’t control what other people think.’

‘You can’t, but wouldn’t it be better if such thoughts never had the opportunity to arise in the first place? Wouldn’t that be more preferable to the scenario where Mr Carter confesses his feelings to you, only for you to turn him down? He’ll have his heart broken, and you might lose a friend in the process.’

I eyed him from my high vantage point and equally high moral ground. ‘You are trying to manipulate me.’ And damn it if he didn’t sound convincing.

‘I’m trying to make both our lives easier. There are women who keep trying to get my attention, no matter how many times I turn them down. I don’t want that kind of distraction, and I’m sure you don’t either. A ring makes all that go away.’

I climbed down from my vantage point.

Pursuing his lead, Ashton continued, ‘And it would help convince your parents who, from what I understand, still haven’t given up on matchmaking you off to the highest bidder.’

‘Yeah.’ I smiled ruefully.

Me marrying Ashton Laurent was so hard to believe that Franklin and Caroline simply refused to accept it. They thought I was just throwing his name around to force them to back off.

‘Married couples wear rings,’ he stated like it was an incontrovertible fact.

‘Most do,’ I mumbled. ‘Some don’t.’

I didn’t know what was stopping me from accepting the ring. I’d played along so far, hadn’t I?

I’d even started to enjoy our kisses, and if one night, Ashton came knocking on my door, I knew I wouldn’t say no.

But putting a ring on it made it all too... real. Too final.

Like a commitment I couldn’t easily back out of.

Ashton took one of the rings, knelt in front of me, slid it onto my ring finger.

I should’ve said something. I should’ve pushed him away.

But instead, I just stared at him.

He held out his left hand, waiting.

Moving like an automaton, I picked up the other ring and slid it on.

The rest of the night felt like a haze, a strange kind of disconnection hanging over me.

It lingered until I finally lay down to sleep.

I lifted my hand and stared at the ring on my finger.

Through the small gap between my fingers, I could almost see him kneeling in front of me, his eyes locked onto mine.

I ran my thumb over the ring, picked up my phone, and checked the calendar.

It had been over a month since Ashton and I had gotten our marriage licence.

Just over ten more months to go until the year was up.

And then we’d divorce.

The end seemed inevitable.

I closed my eyes slowly, trying to shut out the thoughts that had started to swirl.