Chapter 23
Chapter 23:
“I’m a Sterling,” Skye corrected. “Run along p>
Tiffany turned and practically ran away.
“Feisty p>
Skye turned.
Ethan Vance was leaning against the doorway of the exam hall. He had followed her out. He wasn’t wearing his sunglasses now. His eyes were blue, sharp, and amused.
“You saved my ass on Question 4,” Ethan said, walking down the steps. “I owe you. I’m Ethan p>
“I know who you are, Mr. Vance,” Skye said. She hailed a taxi. “The playboy who crashed three Ferraris last year p>
Ethan laughed. “Only two. The third was a Porsche. Come on, let me buy you a drink. Celebration for… not failing p>
The taxi pulled up. Skye opened the door.
“I’m married, Ethan,” she said, looking him in the eye. “And I don’t like boys who need help with their homework p>
She got in. The taxi drove away.
Ethan stood on the curb, watching the car disappear. He wasn’t insulted.
He was fascinated.
He pulled out his phone and dialed a number.
“Julian,” Ethan said when his brother answered, “I think I found someone for the team. She’s smart. She’s mean. And she hates Kensingtons p>
Three days later.
Liam sat in his office at Kensington Global. The view of the city was magnificent, but he was staring at his phone.
The Dean of Sea City University—a man who played golf with Liam’s father—had just called.
“She got a perfect score, Liam. Highest in the last decade. Professors are fighting over who gets to supervise her thesis p>
𝗜𝘧 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘀е𝖾 t𝗵𝗶s 𝘯𝗼𝘷𝘦𝗹 𝘰𝗇 𝖺𝘯𝗒 ѕi𝗍е о𝘵𝗁𝗲𝘳 t𝗵𝖺𝘯 𝘣𝖾𝗅𝗻𝗈𝗏е𝗅s.со𝗺 іt і𝗌 а с𝗈𝗉𝘺
Liam set the phone down. He felt a strange mixture of pride and dread. Pride, because she was his wife. Dread, because a smart wife was a dangerous wife. A smart wife asked questions about where the money went.
His intercom buzzed. “Mr. Kensington? Your grandmother is on line one. She says you are late for the Sterling Banquet p>
Liam cursed. The Sterling Family Annual Banquet. A torture chamber of old relatives and stale canapés.
The Sterling Estate was a shadow of its former glory. The ivy was overgrown, the paint peeling. Since Skye’s father died, Uncle Arthur had run the family corporation into the ground.
Liam and Skye arrived in separate cars but met at the entrance. The paparazzi were there, hungry for a shot of the couple.
Liam instinctively reached out and placed his hand on Skye’s back. It was a possessive gesture, a signal to the world that they were a unit.
Skye stiffened but didn’t pull away. She needed the facade tonight.
Inside, the ballroom was filled with vultures disguised as relatives.
Uncle Arthur and Aunt Petunia descended on them immediately. Arthur was a sweating, corpulent man with shifty eyes. Petunia was a stick insect wrapped in pearls.