Marrying my secret admirer after my husband's fake death novel Chapter 67

Edith took a long, steady breath, forcing back the nausea that threatened

to rise.

She’d dragged Beckett out here because she didn’t want him pestering Jayne anymore, but it seemed Beckett had somehow convinced himself that she actually wanted to have a pleasant chat with him.

Her patience was already worn thin. “What exactly do you want, Beckett? I have things to do–I don’t have time to make small talk.”

Beckett set his coffee cup down with deliberate calm, not a hint of humility in his manner, even though he was the one asking for a favor.

“I heard the Sumners and the Hawksleys used to have some ties,” he began, as if this were an ordinary conversation. “Could you do me a favor? Pioneer Prime’s hit a snag. We had a deal lined up with Hawksley Group, but another company swooped in and stole it from us. Now, we can’t even get in touch with anyone at Hawksley. But you–surely you

can.”

Edith’s brow furrowed. Yesterday, Beckett had made a scene at the Hawksleys‘, and today, Pioneer Prime’s deal had been snatched away. It was almost impossible not to connect the dots.

Not that it mattered; there was no universe in which she’d lift a finger to help Beckett. Even if he’d approached her with genuine humility, Edith wouldn’t have stooped so low as to help him again–and given his arrogant tone, there was no chance.

When the server came over with another cup of coffee, Edith shook her head. “I didn’t order anything. Please, just give it to this gentleman.”

The server hesitated, surprised. “But he already has a coffee…”

Edith’s refusal was clear as day.

She had no intention of accepting anything Beckett paid for. She wanted nothing more to do with him–not even the smallest, most meaningless

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cup of coffee. The Vances were masters of emotional manipulation; she half–worried that if she so much as sipped the drink, Beckett would use it as leverage to guilt her into helping him.

“Whatever help you want, you’ll have to look elsewhere. I can’t–and won’t do it for you,” she said flatly.

Then Edith stood, voice cool and steady. “Neither I nor the Sumners owe you, or the Vance family, anything. You always claimed the wedding settlement you gave was more than my dowry, but that money stayed with the Vances. I never took a penny. I hope you get that straight–and leave me and my family alone. Everyone’s patience has a limit.”

She turned to leave, but Beckett caught her wrist, his eyes feigning a kind of heartfelt sorrow. “Edith, you say your patience with the Vances is limited–but there’s always someone you’ll never run out of patience for. Because you love him.”

Edith nearly gagged at his words, wrenching her hand free.

So this was it—he was finally laying his cards on the table? She almost wanted to laugh. She’d seen through this game long ago; it was laughable that he thought he could surprise her now. And really, did he think so highly of himself?

Her feelings for Beckett had died the day she’d been ready to throw everything away.

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