I Slapped My Fiancé—Then Married His Billionaire Nemesis novel Chapter 74

I groaned into the pillow.

Chapter 74 lip lock”

+15 BONUS

Chapter 74 Lip–lock

Next morning, I got up before the sun like a guilt–ridden teenager bost sneak out.

There was no way Ashton hadn’t clocked the whole performance last night, and I was not about to sit across from him at breakfast pretending I was a normal, functional human.

So yeah, I tried to dip.

Sneaked downstairs, shoes in hand, bag swinging by my side.

But guess what?

He was already there.

Sitting on the sofa like the king of the business world.

Watching the news.

Calm.

Shirt rolled at the sleeves like a casual threat.

I nearly yeeted my handbag at his face.

You’re up early,‘ I accused.

He looked over, no expression. ‘Where are you going this early?‘

Busted.

I bit my lip, the fake kind of innocent that only works on men who want to be lied to. ‘Yvaine wanted to do breakfast. I’m just gonna… yeah, head out…‘

I crab–walked towards the door.

Then, right when my fingers grazed the handle-

‘Aren’t you forgetting something?‘

My heart dropped straight into my shoes.

I froze.

Turned.

Marched right back across the room like I hadn’t been tiptoeing a second ago.

And then I climbed into his lap.

Straddled him. Arms around his neck.

No hesitation.

Okay, maybe a little hesitation.

But mostly flair.

Kissing was off–limits.

But hugging, I could do blindfolded and drunk.

I leaned in, brushing my face against his neck, whisper–close to his ear.

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Chapter–74 Lip–lock

415 BONUS

“This is as far as I can go. For now. As for the other thing… maybe ve me some time? I need time to mentally brace. You’re a man of action, but I’m a girl with nerves. I need a heads–up before we go full lip–lock.‘

I needed time to brush my teeth, drown in breath spray, and chain eat a hundred mints.

More importantly, I needed time to give myself a proper warning not to shove my tongue down his throat or do something wildly inappropriate and irreversible.

Ashton froze.

Literally stopped breathing.

Body stiff like someone had swapped his spine for an ironing board

He just sat there. Silent.

Was he mad?

Or disappointed?

Or silently scanning our ironclad hell of a contract, trying to find a clause that said ‘if fake wife misbehaves, fake husband gets to unleash legal hellfire‘?

I decided not the poke the bear further. ‘Let’s leave it at this for today, yeah?‘

He exhaled. His voice came out low and rough: We’ll talk tonight.

‘Cool, cool.‘ I bounced off his lap.

Then I caught him looking at me weird.

I squinted back at him.

Was his neck… red?

Like, sunburn–at–midnight red.

For a split second I thought maybe I’d given him a love bite without realising, but unless I’d started sucking necks in my sleep, that wasn’t it.

‘Are you-?‘ I was about to ask if he was allergic to my lip gloss when Carmen popped her head in.

‘Mr Laurent, Mrs Laurent, breakfast’s ready.‘ She gave me a sunny smile. ‘Mrs Laurent, I made that spicy chorizo scramble you like so much.‘

“Thanks, Carmen.‘

I looked at the dining room longingly.

Then at the door.

Then at Ashton.

His lips curved. “Thought you had a breakfast date with Yvaine?‘

‘It could also be a lunch date,‘ I amended. ‘Or afternoon tea. Yvaine’s very flexible.‘

He stood. ‘Let’s eat.‘

I moonwalked into the dining room.

Last night I’d been so starved I almost broke into the pantry, but I’d stayed in bed like a good little fake–drunk idiot to avoid blowing my cover.

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Chapter 74 Lip–lock

Now I was starving.

I sat down.

Ashton tore a freshly toasted baguette in hall and passed one to me

I slathered mine with strawberry jam and shoved the jar of pâté towards him without thinking.

And then it hit me.

Not the food.

The domesticity.

The fact that this whole stupid, cosy, married–for–show breakfast vibe was starting to feel normal.

Like I knew exactly how he liked his coffee.

Like he knew I put jam on everything.

Like we were just another boring couple doing breakfast, not two liars caught in a high–stakes fake marriage.

And that freaked me out way more than kissing him ever could.

***

After breakfast, I locked myself in the study to sketch BloomState drafts.

Geoffrey had cleared out the room just for me, and I’d never been this productive in my life.

Even at Nyx Collective, with every professional tool and software available, I didn’t work this fast.

Sometime in the evening, Ashton texted to say he wouldn’t be home for dinner.

I let out a breath I didn’t realise I was holding.

Then he walked through the front door twenty minutes later.

Apparently, ‘not home for dinner‘ didn’t mean ‘not home at all‘.

Thanks for the clarity, CEO of Misleading Messages.

I was in the kitchen sipping water when the door clicked open.

My fight–or–flight kicked in.

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