Game of Love and Deception: The Billionaire's Ex Wife
Chapter 80: Urge to murder a man

Chapter 80: Urge to murder a man

Kayla barely had time to catch her breath after Calvin released inside her. On shaky legs, she hurried into the bathroom, her heart pounding harder as she realized how much time they’d spent in the room.

The ache and sensitivity between her legs lingered—a raw reminder of how roughly Calvin had pounded her. It was the fastest sex she’d ever had, and strangely, she liked it. She’d always loved the maddening thrill of secrecy, but the messy urgency made it even better.

Christian walked down the hallway at a slow, unbothered pace, heading out of the main building.

Just as he reached the front of the guest quarters, his phone rang. He checked the screen, then answered without hesitation. It was important.

Meanwhile, Kayla splashed water on her face and smoothed down her hair, trying to look as normal as possible. When she returned to the bedroom, Calvin was zipping up his pants. His lips curled into a mischievous smirk when he saw her, but she ignored him, grabbed one of his bags, and hurried toward the door.

The moment she opened it and saw Christian standing outside, phone pressed to his ear, her body froze.

Thankfully, his back was turned.

She quickly forced a bright smile onto her face.

"Yes, it’s perfect to strike while he’s still distracted by the aftermath of the interview," she heard him say into the phone.

Her heart slammed against her ribs, but outwardly, she stayed calm.

"Babe?"

Christian turned slightly and gestured that he was on a call.

"Tonight is perfect," he said, then ended the call.

Kayla forced another smile, her mind racing. She couldn’t stop wondering who he’d been talking to—and what was happening tonight. But she didn’t ask.

"Thought you were resting already," she said, aiming for a casual tone, silently praying he wouldn’t notice anything off.

"Yeah... I forgot something I could’ve asked Calvin," Christian said, his gaze flicking past her toward the door she seemed a little too eager to keep shut.

Why didn’t he just call him? Kayla wondered, her heart thudding faster. What if he’d come a little sooner and seen them? The thought made her shiver.

"Did I hear someone say my name?" Calvin’s voice cut through the tension.

Kayla hesitated before stepping aside to let him pass. Calvin strolled out casually, lifting a playful brow.

Christian chuckled. "Yeah, I did."

"I hope I’m not in trouble?" Calvin joked.

"None that I know of," Christian replied with a small smile.

His eyes lingered on Kayla for a second longer, then he reached out and took the bag she was holding a little too tightly.

He noticed something was off. Her energy seemed different, but after a brief moment, he brushed it off. Maybe she’s just missing her cousin already.

Without another word, the three of them began walking toward the main building, Christian striking up a conversation with Calvin.

******

Ashley’s head snapped toward Lorenzo in disbelief.

"Don’t tell me you actually meant that," she said, her voice tight.

"I did," Lorenzo replied, casually running a hand through his hair—an infuriatingly attractive gesture that only added fuel to the fire starting to brew in Ashley’s chest.

She scoffed loudly. "Has anyone ever told you how annoying you are?"

"You’re the first," he replied with a smile that somehow made it worse.

God, why did annoying have to look so good?

"I’m getting out of here whether you like it or not."

Spinning around, she marched toward the tall black gate ahead.

"You do realize you need my access code to open it, right?" Lorenzo called out, clearly amused.

"You’ll open it once my Uber gets here," Ashley shot back, already pulling out her phone to order a ride.

Lorenzo palmed his face the second he realized she was still stuck on the Uber idea.

"Has anyone ever told you you’re as stubborn as a donkey?" he asked, falling into step behind her.

"You’re the first," Ashley tossed back without slowing down. The compound was so massive, the walk to the gate felt endless.

"Fine. I’ll drop you off myself," Lorenzo gave in.

"No, I’m fed up with having you around me," she said, to his dismay.

"Then take one of my cars. I’ll send my driver to pick it up later. I don’t want you using an Uber."

A small, fleeting smile curved Ashley’s lips before she stopped walking. When she turned to face him, she almost laughed.

The sheer frustration twisting his features was priceless.

He was clearly angry—but it didn’t matter.

There was no way she was staying another day under his roof. These few hours alone had already left her dangerously distracted—and she couldn’t afford that.

Not now.

Not when a potential lead on Roseline’s whereabouts had finally surfaced.

Distractions were a luxury she couldn’t afford.

"Okay, that would be fine," she murmured, closing the ride app.

Without another word, Lorenzo led her to his garage, where several cars sat parked under soft overhead lighting.

Ashley paused, staring in awe at the lineup of limited-edition luxury vehicles gleaming back at her.

Seven of them.

Each one screaming, I’m so fucking expensive.

She nearly felt lightheaded just imagining how wealthy he really was.

The sprawling mansion. The museum-worthy art scattered around his interior. And now this garage full of luxury cars. This wasn’t just ordinary wealth. This was serious money.

Her grandparents owned various expensive cars too. But at least she knew where their money came from.

Mostly.

She tore her gaze from the wheels and turned to Lorenzo, the question slipping out before she could stop it.

"What exactly do you do?"

He arched a brow, confused. "What do you mean?"

Ashley scratched the back of her head awkwardly.

"Like... your job," she clarified, suddenly unsure if she had any right to ask.

Lorenzo glanced at the cars, then back at her. He instantly read between the lines, and his heart gave a hard, quick thud.

He knew what she was really asking.

Maybe he shouldn’t have brought her here. But his sense of reason always stopped working when he was around her.

Still... he’d be stupid to tell her the truth.

He wasn’t a good man. And if she ever found out where his money really came from, she’d hate him even more.

"I... I know we said we wouldn’t pry into each other’s lives, but..." Ashley laughed awkwardly when she noticed his hesitation. "I’m just curious. Besides, you know mine. It’s only fair I know a little about you too."

A smirk tugged at Lorenzo’s lips as he met her gaze. He shoved the pang of guilt deep down and locked it away.

"The clubhouse you visited?" he said smoothly. "It’s mine."

Ashley’s lips parted in surprise.

"Oh!" she breathed, genuinely caught off guard.

She hadn’t expected that. But still... one flashy clubhouse didn’t explain this kind of wealth.

"Yeah. I have several branches across the country," he added casually, as of reading her mind.

"And," he continued after a pause, "I’m into real estate too."

Ashley nodded slowly, feeling some of the tight knots in her chest loosening a bit.

At least now she was pretty sure she wasn’t accidentally dating a ritualist or—worse—a drug lord.

"So," Lorenzo said, switching the focus back, "which one should I bring you the key to?"

Ashley hesitated.

Then she took a step back, shaking her head. "I... I think I’ve changed my mind. I’ll just stick with Uber," she said quickly, fiddling with her phone.

"Ashley," Lorenzo growled, frustration coating his voice.

She tried to move past him, but he caught her hand, pulling her back so suddenly she stumbled into him.

His arms effortlessly caught her waist, while her hand slapped against his chest for balance, and suddenly their faces were just inches apart.

Ashley panted softly, her heart hammering against her ribs.

"Are you trying to hurt me?" she asked, trying to sound upset, but her breathy voice gave her away.

"Of course not, kitten," Lorenzo murmured, the tease in his voice betrayed by the dark heat in his eyes. His gaze dropped to her lips, and the urge to kiss her almost overpowered him.

"But enough of this cat and mouse game... I’m taking you back inside," he said firmly.

Before she could protest, he swept her into his arms.

She cursed, kicked, and pounded her little furious fists against his chest—but it was no use.

She was coming with him, whether she liked it or not.

God. Maybe that orange jumpsuit wouldn’t be so bad after all.

Because honestly, what was she supposed to do with this strong urge to murder a man?

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