Fake Dating My Ex's Favourite Hockey Player novel Chapter 193

When I still don’t respond, she arches a brow. “Really? Not even going to ask why I bothered showing up at all?”

–

“I don’t care enough,” I snap. “I want you gone, Diana. You’re right I’ve made mistakes. I should’ve cleaned up my mess. I should’ve been smarter. I should’ve stayed. I should’ve been a better daughter, a better sister – God, I know that!”

My voice breaks and I hate the way my throat tightens. I breathe through it. Keep going.

“But I didn’t. And I wasn’t. And here we are. And if you want an apology, you can have it. But I should be the one living with my mistakes- not Tessa. She didn’t deserve that. That was cruel. You want to scream at me? Fine. But don’t go ruining other people’s lives just because mine hurt you.”

Diana goes quiet. Actually quiet. She frowns a real one then slowly opens her hand.

“Do you know what this is?” she asks.

In her palm is a single white pill.

I force myself to swallow down the last of my rage and stare at it. “Medicine?”

She tilts her head, almost pitying. “Experimental medicine. Or that’s what my fiancé calls it. In reality, it’s poison. If I take one every day, I‘ 11 be dead by our wedding night.”

My stomach twists. I study her more closely now really look. The slight yellow cast to her skin, the way her collarbones are sharper than I remember, her eyes too shadowed.

“You’ve been taking it?” My voice comes out low. Careful. Like I’m handling a bomb.

She smiles. Actually smiles. “In small doses. Just enough to keep Amanda reporting what he wants to hear. Can’t die too quickly, obviously. He needs to marry me first if he wants any legal claim to Vanderbilt Holdings.”

I pause. “Amanda?”

“My assistant. Or his spy, depending on the day.”

I rake a hand through my hair. “Then why tell me any of this?”

She leans forward slightly, her voice dropping. “Then there’s that Céline woman. My fiancé found her, too. A woman more unhinged than me, if that’s possible. You let them all slither in. You let a man piece everything together before you ever caught a whiff of it. Honestly, I don’t know how we’re related.”

—

Her eyes narrow. The disgust in them is almost physical. “But don’t get me wróng – I have no intention of hurting you. I’ve already gotten what I needed from you. I don’t want anything else.”

She stands, brushing imaginary dust off her hands like she’s done with the conversation. “Still, you should be careful. You’re my sister by blood. Which makes you a threat to him. Once I’m out of the way, you‘ re the only person standing between him and full control of Vanderbilt Holdings.”

I stay silent. My blood runs cold. She’s already planning for her own death like it’s inevitable.

–

“You can’t keep living like this naïve and soft,” she says, tone clipped. “You’re still a Vanderbilt, whether you carry the name or not. Start acting like it. And stop making me look bad.”

She turns like that’s the end of it – but then stops, visibly irritated, like the conversation offended her intelligence.