Fake Dating My Ex's Favourite Hockey Player novel Chapter 218

Chapter 218

DIANA

I hate being right. Especially when I’m practically begging the world to prove me wrong.

The article on my tablet – Stone grinning at reporters like he’s just won the lottery – clicits nothing from me. No surprise. No

disappointment. Just inevitability. I drop the tablet onto my desk and tilt my head at the man across from me.

“You let this charade drag on longer than I expected.”

Morgan Whitney, my fiancé on the days he isn’t busy poisoning me for sport, only smiles. “You have to let people feel safe before you pull the rug out from under them, don’t you think, my dear?”

I can’t help but nod. He’s infuriatingly clever when he isn’t insufferable.

Turning my chair, I glance at Vixi. My darling. A red milk snake with bright yellow bands, coiled elegantly in her glass tank. Harmless, yet she makes people uneasy without even trying. I guess that makes us opposites.

I stand, retrieve a white mouse from the supply, and lower it into her tank. She strikes instantly. Morgan grimaces at the sight of her swallowing, his revulsion poorly disguised.

“I suppose,” I say, wiping my hands with a cloth once she’s finished.

“You shouldn’t keep something so… unsettling around.”

I arch a brow at him. “Why? Do you want her instead? I’d take her out. but she doesn’t like being disturbed after feeding. She especially doesn‘ t like men. Though, who knows — maybe she’ll make an exception and have you as an appetizer.”

The look on his face tells me the joke fell flat. Typical. I sigh inwardly “No sense of humor. I see. So why are you wasting so much time meddling in my sister’s life? She can’t possibly be that interesting.”

“You’re right.” Morgan says smoothly. “She isn’t. But when I talk to you through her, you actually listen.”

I let out a sharp breath, unimpressed. “As usual, you’re making no sense. And I don’t have time for riddles. My parents are still in Kigali. which means everything here has landed on my desk.”

His lips twist into something that isn’t quite a smile. “How are the negotiations going?”

Of course he knows. He always knows. I don’t bother asking – it’d be a waste of breath when I already know he orchestrated them. Clever of him, really. If I hadn’t meddled, my parents might’ve signed away a large chunk of our East African holdings for crumbs. “As well as can be expected.”

The false amusement drains from his face. “I want a wedding in December.”

I blink at him. “You don’t plan weddings overnight. Shouldn’t you know that already? You practically bankrolled Zane’s. I assumed you’d be an expert by now

“That doesn’t matter,” he says flatly. “The sooner we’re married, the better – for both of us.”

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