Free For Richer, for Richest by Gina Robinson

circumstance, ever, admit I didn't marry the real Kayla. The whole house of cards falls apart if I do. I can't even hint at it."
    Dex leaned forward. "So the answer is no?"
    I didn't bother answering. It was a rhetorical question.
    "If you're right, and she's behind it, you're taking a chance she'll escalate," Dex said.
    "If she had something concrete, she would have come straight at me with it." I finished my beer, craving another.
    "You could send a representative. Someone you trust who could front a plausible story." He raised an eyebrow and pointed at himself. "I could go as myself, Lala's cousin and your friend. I would claim she's embarrassed by them and furious and wants them out of circulation. That she's willing to pay."
    I shook my head. "You obviously haven't been under the media's microscope. If it gets out Kay or I am willing to pay for such benign pictures, we'll have targets on our back. There will be photographers jumping out at us from everywhere."
    Dex nodded, deep in thought. "You're right. You're taking a calculated risk. The problem for blackmailers is simple—if they make good on their threats and release what they have on you, they've lost their cash cow."
    I nodded.
    "What are you going to do?" Dex said.
    "We have to find her and stop her. And stall as long as we can. Fifteen more days and she won't be able to prove she was the one I married. Sixty to ninety and she won't have any hotel video to use against me. As in, billionaire breaking vows on wedding night."
    Dex shook his head. "When you fuck up, you really fuck up." He sounded impressed.
    I shot him a dark look. "Got any good ideas?"
    Dex pursed his lips and broke into a grin. "A few."

Chapter Five
    K ayla
    When we "got married," Jus had promised that he travelled most of the time. I would hardly feel married because he would be gone so often. I didn't know if he'd stayed in town on purpose the first two weeks of our married life. Or whether life and circumstances just lined up that way. But he made good on his promise the Monday after I had lunch with Britt celebrating her job offer from Flash. On Sunday afternoon, he announced he was flying out early the next morning on business to a bunch of locations. He'd arranged for Ophie to email me his itinerary and update me with any changes. Which were likely. Business meetings were rearranged, cancelled, or postponed all the time. Especially among the powerful.
    Great. Just what I needed. Ophie more in the know about what Jus was up to than I was. Knowledge was power. And in this case, I really hated relinquishing it. To Ophie, of all people. Unfortunately, I couldn't see any way around it. Ophie had been perfectly pleasant to me. But I didn't trust her as a matter of the basic principles of love, war, and marriage. It wasn't rocket science—never trust a woman who wants your husband.
    "I'll be back for the Fourth of July." Jus zipped his suitcase closed and looked around for his phone charger, distracted by packing.
    "You'd better be. It's nearly two weeks away!" I watched him throw more chargers and accessories in his leather computer bag. "And a Friday night. I need a date."
    Jus grinned at me, pleased by my outburst. "I'll hurry back as soon as I can."
    I should have been relieved he was going. I needed time to think and sort out my feelings. When Jus was around things were complicated, to say the least. My heart didn't know what it was doing. And couldn't make up its mind about how it felt about him. Crazy, but I was already missing him. And he wasn't even gone yet.
    I had a sudden inspiration. "We should throw a party for the Fourth here at the penthouse!"
    My friends would love it. It would give me a chance to show off and really sell this marriage to them again. Happy domestic life as the billionaire's wife! Wasn't that sweet?
    When again would I have a 360 view of the firework displays across the entire region—Seattle, Issaquah, south to Renton, and beyond. Not to mention we weren't more