Replacing My Cheating Fiancé

"I'm only twentyfour. Youth gives me the right to make mistakes." My billionaire fiancé of six years sneered, spitting the words at me without a single drop of remorse.

On the glaring screen of my phone, a highdef video played on loop: Nathaniel, swallowing his little mistress in a passionate kiss under the Eiffel Tower.

He had colluded with my own parents and our entire circle of friends to keep me in the dark.

They had secretly signed off on his oneyear "hall pass," letting him drag that homewrecker on a luxury trip around the globe. I didn't hesitate.

I hurled my massive diamond engagement ring right at his arrogant face, turned on my heel, and got myself a fiercely wild, younger alpha male.

The second the untouchable billionaire realized I had actually moved on, his sanity snapped.

He blocked my driveway every single day, his eyes bloodshot, begging like a dog for just one more chance. I stared down at him, my face carved from ice. "Too late.

You're dead to me." Chapter 1 Two months ago. Nathaniel suddenly announced he had a twomonth overseas business trip. I moved back to my parents' estate.

Late at night, a parched throat woke me up.

On my way to the kitchen for a glass of water, I passed my parents' bedroom and caught their hushed voices seeping through the crack in the door. "What are we going to do if Blair finds out Nathaniel is cheating?" my mother’s voice drifted out. "He took that woman abroad for two whole months, and Blair still thinks he's on a business trip." Cheating?

My feet rooted to the hardwood floor. A bucket of ice water seemed to dump straight down my spine. My father clicked his tongue. "That’s not cheating.

Watch your words." "Nathaniel is just having a little fun with that girl. It's how things work in their circle. He'll return to his family in the end." "You're right.

Everyone in the upper crust has a fling or two," my mother agreed. "Nathaniel has always been so generous to us. Our daughter is spoiled, stubborn, and frankly, a bit dense.

It's Blair's absolute blessing that he's even willing to marry her." "Alright, it's getting late. Go to sleep. Oh, make sure you delete that video of Nathaniel from your phone.

Don't let Blair see it." "Got it." Blood rushed straight to my head, sheer fury instantly incinerating any trace of grief. I didn't retreat to my room to cry.

Instead, I pushed open their slightly ajar door, slipped into the dark room, and snatched my mother's phone right off her nightstand. I ducked into the adjoining bathroom.

With trembling fingers, I unlocked the screen and tapped directly on the newest video in her camera roll. Someone had thoughtfully added the perfect romantic background track.

The stars of the clip were a young couple, practically swallowing each other whole. They stood right under the Eiffel Tower, locked in a passionate French kiss.

Fake snow drifted down on cue, captured perfectly by multiple slowmotion camera angles. Bystanders cheered and clapped in the background.

The whole scene looked like a damn movie poster. It was blatantly shot by a hired professional. An ordinary person couldn't capture that framing and lighting.

I stared at the man and woman on the glowing screen without blinking. My nails dug into my palms so hard they threatened to draw blood.

A sharp, physical ache seized my chest, stealing all the oxygen from my lungs. Footsteps pounded outside the bathroom. My mother had noticed the missing phone.

A key slid into the lock. The door clicked and swung open. My parents rushed in, taking one look at the glowing screen in my whiteknuckled grip.

My mother lunged to snatch the phone back, her tone dripping with arrogant justification. "Blair, stop making a scene!" "In our social class, a man playing the field means nothing.

He guaranteed you will be his only legal wife. That is more than enough!" Acid rose in the back of my throat.

I tightened my grip on the device, stepping back. "I heard every single word you two said out there." I locked eyes with them, my voice cold and hard. "You knew Nathaniel was cheating.

You knew this whole time. Why did you cover for him?" "Don't be so petty," she continued, straightening her posture. "Nathaniel is just having a bit of fun.

He told us you're still the one he's going to marry, so this is a nonissue. Throwing a tantrum right now won't do you any good." My jaw locked. My teeth ground together. Petty?

A nonissue? I stared at the two people standing in front of me. They wore the faces of my parents, but I was looking at absolute strangers.

These toxic, twisted justifications were spilling right out of my own mother’s mouth. I shifted my gaze to my father. He didn't defend me. He just slowly, calmly nodded.

Chapter 2 I stepped back, my eyes wide with disbelief. "He cheated! Mom, Dad, he's cheating on me!

And you call that a nonissue?" "It's completely normal," my mother said, reaching out to wipe a stray tear from my cheek.

Her expression was terrifyingly calm. "Nathaniel faces so many temptations.

The fact that he waited until this age to play around just proves how outstanding he is." "Blair, let's be honest. You've never been the sharpest tool in the shed.

Your grades were mediocre, and your career is going nowhere." "We're in our fifties. We won't be around forever to protect you.

When we're gone, who is going to take care of you?" "The only thing we can do is secure you a wealthy husband.

A lifetime of financial security and freedom." "We know Nathaniel inside and out. He's just chasing a brief thrill. The novelty will wear off." "You two grew up together.

His feelings for you are different. Don't be so rigid about this." "He'll come back to you.

Stop crying and making your father and me worry over nothing." My chest tightened until I could barely draw a breath. I used to think I was the luckiest girl in the world.

Doting parents, a billionaire childhood sweetheart, and a cozy, effortless life. I knew I was a disappointment to them.

My mother was a tenured university professor, my father had built a corporate empire from the ground up, and me?

Just a mediocre college graduate with a deadend job that barely paid enough to cover my daily lattes.

I had assumed my path was set: marry Nathaniel in two years and live happily ever after. But standing here, that illusion shattered into a million jagged pieces.

Nathaniel was cheating, and I refused to swallow this toxic betrayal.

My jaw clamped shut, my nails digging halfmoons into my palms. "I'm dumping him." The words barely left my mouth before a sharp sting exploded across my cheek.

The crack of my mother's palm against my face echoed in the sudden silence. "Take that back!" she shrieked, her perfectly manicured finger pointing at my nose. "You're useless!

Do you really think you can survive without Nathaniel?" I pressed my hand against my burning cheek, staring at the woman who had always claimed to love me. She hit me.

Just because I wanted to dump a cheating bastard. A cold, harsh laugh escaped my lips.

I swiped the back of my hand across my mouth, wiping away a smear of blood from the corner of my lip.

I locked my absolute gaze onto them. "I can survive just fine without his money.

He makes me sick." I spun around, kicked the heavy front door wide open, and walked out of that suffocating, hypocritical house without looking back.

I knew exactly how my parents saw me: a naive child. Not smart enough, not capable enough. In their twisted minds, I desperately needed a premium husband like Nathaniel.

I knew Nathaniel was just chasing a thrill, just like they said.

I could have easily turned a blind eye, waited for his little vacation to end, and played the perfect, envied billionaire's wife. But I couldn't stomach it.

I might be ordinary, but I demanded absolute loyalty. A tainted relationship wasn't love. It was garbage. I drove straight back to my own apartment.

I tore through my closet, grabbing every single customtailored Italian suit and limitededition Rolex Nathaniel had left at my place, and shoved them violently into heavyduty trash bags.

Dragging them out to the dumpster, I hurled the expensive garbage inside.

Staring down at the ruined luxury goods, a fierce, unprecedented surge of satisfaction pumped through my veins. I walked into my office the next morning with my head held high.

I was done being the slacker. I threw myself into every project, hunting down new accounts and outworking every single person in my department. A month flew by.

My parents reached out a few times, but seeing my calm demeanor, they assumed I had swallowed my pride and accepted the situation. They stopped pushing.

Nathaniel tried to call me a few times, but I declined every single one.

Too wrapped up in his little European romance, he probably noticed my silence but simply didn't care enough to press the issue. Until one afternoon.

My grandparents, who lived out their retirement in Switzerland, suddenly called me. Their voices trembled with anxiety as they asked about my relationship with Nathaniel.

I frowned, gripping the phone tighter. They were so old and completely removed from my daily life. Why were they suddenly asking about my love life?

Chapter 3 I later found out Nathaniel actually took his little mistress to "visit" them.

He blatantly exposed her identity, parading that homewrecker into their home and letting her call them Grandpa and Grandma right to their faces.

He nearly sent both of them to the emergency room. I took a deep breath, my face carved from ice, and pressed the call button.

The line connected. "Miss me, baby?" Nathaniel’s voice slithered through the speaker.

My grip on the phone tightened until my knuckles turned bonewhite. "You went to see my grandparents?" "Yeah. I had business in Switzerland.

Figured I'd drop by." Listening to his casual tone, my fingernails dug halfmoons into my palms. "They are in their eighties." I stepped forward, my voice dropping into a lethal chill. "Nathaniel, my grandmother has a heart condition.

What the hell possessed you to drag your side piece to their front door?" Silence stretched over the line. "You know." His tone quickly smoothed out into that familiar, arrogant calm. "Why didn't they keep their mouths shut?

Old people really are losing their minds.

Telling you just creates unnecessary drama." "Nathaniel." I stood up, my spine rigid. "If my grandmother ends up in the hospital over this, I will ruin you." A soft scoff echoed from his end.

He genuinely thought this was a joke. "Alright, alright. Stop throwing a tantrum. I'll buy you something nice when I get back." I hung up.

A burning need to destroy something clawed at my chest. I drove straight to his luxury penthouse and took a heavy golf club to everything in sight. Crystal vases shattered.

Framed art ripped. I stood amidst the ruined milliondollar wreckage, my breathing steadying as the ice in my veins finally returned.

A few days later, my firm sent me to negotiate a contract. I walked into the boardroom and realized the CEO was one of Nathaniel's techbro buddies.

After wrapping up the deal, I stepped out of the restroom and caught him lounging in the hallway, phone pressed to his ear. The hallway was dead quiet. I heard every word.

Nathaniel was telling him I found out about his little pet. His buddy let out a sharp whistle, mocking him. "You've been wilding out for over a month, man.

Wrap it up before she actually dumps you." Nathaniel laughed like it was the funniest thing he'd ever heard. "You’re giving her too much credit.

She can't live without me." A beat of silence. "And I can't live without her." On my eighteenth birthday, Nathaniel asked what I wished for.

I blew out the candles and looked him dead in the eye, saying I wanted us to travel the world together. Now, he was traveling the world. Just not with me. It was hilarious, really.

For six years, he never found the time to book that global trip for us, saving it for another woman. A text pinged on my screen.

Nathaniel letting me know his private jet was landing in three days. He told me to pick him up at the tarmac. I swiped left and deleted the thread.

Then, I booked a oneway ticket out West for the exact same day. Right before boarding, I sent him one final message.

Just a single sentence and a photo. [ I threw out all your filthy trash. We’re done.

Don't look for me. ] Attached was a highres shot of his favorite limitededition Patek Philippe watch, sitting pretty at the bottom of a greasy dumpster. I hit send. Blocked.

Deleted. Powered off the phone. The plane touched down. The private car I booked was already waiting at the curb. Stepping out of the terminal, I inhaled the crisp, dry air.

A heavy weight lifted off my chest, scattering the dark clouds that had suffocated me for weeks.

I arrived at my rented cabin, unpacked my essentials, and headed straight to a local dealership to rent a rugged SUV. I skipped the guided tours. They were always too rushed.

With my accumulated PTO and unpaid leave, I had a whole month to burn. I was in no hurry. Being behind the wheel meant absolute freedom.

I signed the paperwork and stepped out with the keys. I reached for the door handle. A sudden, sharp gust of wind swept across the lot, forcing me to squint.

When I opened my eyes, a man was walking toward me from a few dozen yards away. Broad shoulders, narrow waist.

His tight Tshirt clung to his torso, highlighting the sharp, defined lines of his full chest muscles.

His long, powerful legs moved with the lazy, dangerous grace of a wild predator stalking its territory. My eyes locked onto him, my pulse physically skipping a beat.

He stepped closer, the harsh sunlight carving out the sharp, rugged angles of his jawline. His skin was a flawless, sunbaked bronze.

But it was his eyes that caught me—clear, piercing, radiating an untamed, feral energy that instantly set the air on fire.

Chapter 4 He looked young, a raw, untamed edge clashing with surprisingly sharp, handsome features. My boots glued to the pavement. He was insanely gorgeous.

My blatant, hungry stare must have tipped him off. He turned his head and shot me a casual glance. My lungs seized. My pulse kicked into a frantic overdrive.

Cynthia, the owner of my rental cabin, had told me about a local rodeo and horse race fifty miles out.

I woke up at dawn the next day, and by the time I pulled into the dirt lot, the races hadn't started.

I wandered around the grounds until the crowd surged, fighting my way to the front rail. The scenes I had only ever watched on a screen played out right in front of my eyes.

Dozens of horses exploded from the starting gates at the gunshot. Muscle and bone working in perfect sync, the thunderous pounding of hooves drowning out the screaming crowd.

The raw, electric energy in the air set my blood on fire. Halfway through the dirt track, a massive horse tore through the pack, leaving the others choking on dust.

I instantly recognized the rider. It was the guy from the rental lot. He leaned low, his expression dead serious, a cocky, inevitable smirk playing on his lips.

His rugged face and flawless riding had the crowd screaming his name. "Beau!" I tested the name on my tongue. Thinking of his hard, chiseled jawline, the name fit him perfectly.

As the race wrapped up, I made a hard decision right there in the dirt. I was going to learn how to ride. My blood was pumping, entirely too impatient to wait another second.

I hurried back to the SUV, eager to ask Cynthia for a coach recommendation. Just as I reached my door, a horse neighed sharply behind me. I spun around.

Beau was pulling back on his reins, his piercing eyes locked in my direction. I didn't care if he was actually looking at me. I flashed a bright smile and waved. "Hey!

Congrats on the win." He stiffened at the greeting before offering a curt nod. "Thanks," he muttered, his voice thick and rough.

Back at the cabin, I told Cynthia I wanted riding lessons. She laughed, saying everyone who watched the rodeo caught the bug. She asked what kind of coach I was looking for.

I propped my chin on my hand and smirked. "Hot. And knows exactly how to ride." Cynthia delivered. The coach she hired was insanely hot. And coincidentally, it was Beau.

Beau stood tall right in front of me, easily clearing me by a full head. There wasn't a cloud in the sky. A slight breeze stirred the dust, teasing my bare skin.

I had bought a tight, formfitting riding outfit just for this. Standing next to Beau in his rugged, wornin denim and leather boots, I didn't look completely out of place.

Beau led a stunning white horse out of the stable. Packed with thick muscle, its coat gleaming in the sun, it looked powerful but incredibly docile.

For some reason, looking at the horse felt exactly like looking at Beau. Just as breathtaking. "You're riding this one," Beau grunted, handing me the reins.

The second he opened his mouth, part of me wanted to tell him to shut it. He had a thick, unpolished backcountry drawl.

The rough, grating syllables completely clashed with his highend model face. I guess the universe was fair—blessed him with a godtier face but gave him a rough, gravelly voice.

Knowing he wasn't much of a talker, he kept the instructions short and blunt. His voice was low, getting lost in the wind.

To catch his words, I stepped into his personal space, tilting my ear right up to his hard jaw.

Chapter 5 Before I realized it, our upper bodies were practically flush against each other. I scrambled back a step.

His eyes darted away, the tips of his ears flushing a violent, burning red. He looked exactly like a ripe cherry dangling from a branch, just begging to be picked.

I steadied my breathing, mentally cursing his ridiculous good looks for distracting me. I immediately hit my first major roadblock in learning to ride.

I couldn't get on the damn horse. Before mounting, I stroked the horse's muzzle, trying to build some sort of bond.

In my head, I swung up into the saddle with the same effortless, wild grace Beau had.

In reality, I shoved my boot into the stirrup and wrestled with all my might, only to end up awkwardly dangling halfway up. My face burned.

I rubbed my hands together awkwardly and shot Beau a desperate look. I hadn't realized my athletic coordination was this pathetic.

My fantasy of looking like a badass cowgirl shattered completely. Beau patiently walked me through the mechanics again. I nodded, my face still hot, but my brain was static.

The humiliating failure from two minutes ago was burned into my mind. Theory was one thing. Hauling my own body weight over a massive animal was an entirely different beast.

While I stood there mentally spiraling, Beau had already figured out a solution.

His voice dropped, losing some of its rough edge, softening into something almost gentle. "It's fine. Grab the reins with both hands. Put your foot in the stirrup.

I'll boost you up." "Huh?" I blinked. "Boost me how?" Beau stiffened.

He ran a hand through his thick hair, avoiding my eyes. "I'm gonna have to grab your… ass…" He swallowed hard. "Otherwise… I can't think of another way." The moment the words left his mouth, a dark, furious blush crept up his neck, staining his ears and cheeks a deep, bloodred.

He let out a harsh cough to cover it up. I bit my lip, making a splitsecond decision. "Fine." It was just a boost. No big deal. I gripped the leather reins, getting into position.

Beau gave a short grunt. "Go." I lifted my boot into the stirrup, and his large, calloused hands immediately clamped firmly under the curve of my butt and the root of my thigh.

Through the thin fabric of my riding pants, the heat of his palms and the solid force of his grip seared my skin, stealing the breath from my lungs.

Driven by his raw physical strength, I finally swung over and landed in the saddle. A thin layer of sweat broke out along my spine.

Beau forced his hands behind his back, his jaw tight. I noticed his fists clenching and unclenching.

He wouldn't look up as he grabbed the lead rope. "I'll… I'll just walk you around a couple laps." "Uh… yeah. Okay," I managed. He led the horse around the dirt arena for a few laps.

It completely drained me. Riding wasn't exactly comfortable. The saddle bounced and jolted, and no matter how I shifted, I couldn't find a decent rhythm.

Getting on was a nightmare, but getting off had to be simple. I stubbornly insisted I could dismount by myself.

After the absolute disaster of getting on, Beau clearly didn't trust me. My pride took a hit, so I was determined to prove him wrong.

I swung my leg over, completely missed my footing, and plummeted straight toward the hard dirt. Beau moved with lethal speed.

He lunged forward, catching me flush against his chest before I even realized what was happening. His thick, heavily muscled arms hooked securely under my knees and across my back.

The sheer density of his chest pressed against mine—an undeniable wall of raw, masculine power. My brain shortcircuited.

Outside of Nathaniel, I hadn't been this physically tangled up with any man in years. My heart hammered wildly against my ribs.

My face burning like a furnace, I practically vaulted out of his arms.

Refusing to meet his gaze, I threw out a panicked, "Thanks, see you next time!" and bolted straight back to the cabin. Later that night, Cynthia called my room.

She said Beau was downstairs asking for me. I pulled a loose cardigan over my pajamas, my brow furrowing. What did he want this late? I hurried down the stairs.

He was still in the same rugged clothes from the afternoon. The memory of his hands grabbing me flashed through my mind, sending a fresh wave of heat to my cheeks.

I stopped at the bottom step, asking what was up.

I was just in a silk cami sleep set with the shawl draped loosely over my shoulders, leaving my collarbones exposed to the cool air.

Beau's eyes kept darting around the lobby, actively avoiding the dip of my neckline.

He rubbed the back of his neck, grunting out that he had something to handle tomorrow and had to cancel our lesson. Annoyance instantly flared in my chest.

One lesson in, and my coach was already flaking. I kept my face totally neutral, offered a curt, "That's fine," and turned on my heel to head back upstairs.

Chapter 6 He called out, stopping me in my tracks. He offered to find a substitute coach so my progress wouldn't be delayed. I agreed without a second thought.

The moment the words left my mouth, a brief flash of disappointment seemed to darken Beau's eyes. He grunted that he'd handle it, turned on his heel, and walked away.

Watching his broad, muscular back retreat, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. The next day, I showed up at the dirt arena for my lesson. There was no substitute.

My coach was still Beau. I frowned. Hadn't he taken the day off to handle whatever was so important?

Before I could even open my mouth, he answered the question written all over my face. "Finished early." Thanks to the previous day's grueling, humiliating session, something finally clicked in my brain.

Miraculously, I mastered swinging up into the saddle and dismounting without making a complete fool of myself. Beau let me try riding the horse on my own.

He dropped the lead rope and stepped back. His piercing eyes tracked my every movement, his entire body tense and on high alert, ready to lunge if I lost my balance.

About half an hour later, another guy in rugged denim and a worn Stetson rode up on horseback from a few dozen yards away. His eyes darted back and forth between Beau and me.

He let out a loud, sharp whistle, his gaze dripping with obvious teasing. Seeing Beau giving me a riding lesson, his jaw practically dropped. "Beau?

What the hell are you still doing at the arena? Weren't you supposed to be at the championship rodeo today?" Beau held my horse's reins.

He tilted his head, shooting a quick glance up at me before shrugging his broad shoulders. "Not going." The guy opened his mouth to press the issue, but Beau cut him off with a few low, rough words and sent him packing.

So that was why Beau had tried to cancel our lesson yesterday. Judging by their exchange, that championship was a massive deal.

I took a swig from my water bottle, trying to sound completely casual. "Why didn't you go? A substitute coach would have been fine." Beau’s dark, intense eyes locked onto mine.

A long moment passed.

He fiddled with the thick leather reins, his knuckles flexing. "I didn't want anyone else teaching you." I was swallowing a mouthful of water right as he spoke, the rushing wind drowning out his low, gravelly rumble. "What was that?" I asked.

Beau just set his hard jaw and didn't repeat it. Even though I had only known Beau for two days, I had already figured out his vibe. Dropdead gorgeous. Man of few words.

But not arrogant or aloof. Honestly, underneath that feral, intimidating exterior, he was surprisingly shy. So, I let it drop.

After a solid week of lessons, my inner thighs and ass were bruised and burning. I had to take two days off just to recover at the rental cabin.

I was itching for that adrenaline rush of actually galloping across the open plains, but my riding skills were still garbage.

That badass, windinmyhair moment felt entirely out of reach. Beau noticed I was distracted. He stepped closer and asked what was wrong.

I vented my frustration to him, kicking at the dirt.

The corner of his mouth ticked up into a rare, stunning smile, completely softening his harsh features. "Want me to take you for a real ride?" he asked. "Wait, seriously?" My eyes instantly lit up. "Then hurry up!

Let's go." Beau swung into the saddle with fluid, athletic grace. Settling his weight, he reached down and offered me his large, calloused hand.

That lazy smirk still played on his handsome face. He leaned down, the bloodorange light of the setting sun outlining his broad shoulders like a blazing halo.

Driven by pure instinct, I placed my hand in his palm. With one effortless pull of his thick bicep, he hauled me right up onto the horse.

I landed flush against him, and my lungs instantly seized. The leather saddle was painfully small.

I was wedged tight between his muscular thighs, my back pressed entirely against his rockhard chest.

The sheer, radiating heat of his body soaked straight through my thin clothes, sending my core temperature spiking to a fever pitch. My pulse hammered wildly against my ribs.

Beau’s thick arms wrapped securely around my waist to grab the reins. He caged me in completely, his heavy, solid frame a barricade against the rest of the world.

Beau gave a sharp click of his tongue. The white stallion exploded forward. The violent jolt threw me back, slamming me even tighter against his chest.

The rushing wind whipped through my hair, ripping the suffocating dead weight right out of my lungs.

Pure, unadulterated freedom flooded my veins, lighting up every nerve ending in my body. I screamed over the pounding hooves, laughing recklessly. I yelled at Beau to go faster.

He snapped the reins, and the stallion kicked into a full, blazing gallop. Under that bleeding orange sky, every last trace of my toxic past shattered. Nathaniel. I didn't need him.

Not his money, not his lies, not his sick power trips.

Beneath me was a thousand miles of untamed, green earth, above me was a razorsharp, endless blue sky, and wrapped around me was a grounded, fiercely gorgeous man who didn't play twisted mind games.

Out here, breathing this crisp air. That billionaire garbage didn't even exist. Since I arrived out West, my days were entirely consumed by the dirt arena and riding lessons.

I had barely even looked at the local scenery. Now that I could hold my own in the saddle, I made a plan to take the SUV and explore the surrounding trails.

Chapter 7 Beau was born and raised out here. He knew the land like the back of his hand. Hiring him as a local guide was a nobrainer.

But he was a riding coach; I wasn't sure if he actually had the time. After our lesson, I floated the idea. He agreed instantly.

Probably because the cash offer I dropped was more than generous. That night, he texted me a fully mappedout itinerary. Crisp, detailed, and perfect.

For a guy who couldn't be older than his early twenties, he handled his business with serious grit. The next morning, we stepped out into the crisp air.

I tossed him the keys to the SUV, expecting him to drive. Beau caught the fob effortlessly, stared at it for a second, and held it right back out to me.

He rubbed the back of his neck, his rough voice dropping low. "Don't have a license." My jaw literally dropped. I let out a heavy sigh.

I hired a local guide, and now I had to be the damn chauffeur. I swallowed my annoyance and slid into the driver's seat.

In the passenger seat, Beau’s mouth pulled into a tight, rigid line. He crossed his thick arms over his massive chest, staring hard out the window.

His jaw jumped as he ground his teeth together, looking like he was mentally cursing himself. The SUV tires ate up the long stretches of black asphalt.

Out West, the scenery didn't just change; it swallowed you whole.

Jagged mountain peaks carved up the horizon, and the endless, rolling plains looked like a masterpiece slapped onto a massive canvas.

Over the next few days, we chased the dying sun across the dirt roads, watching the sky bleed over the towering mountains.

Mother Nature had a brutal, effortless way of fixing broken things.

Filling my lungs with that raw, dry air and staring out at the sheer scale of the wilderness completely rewired my brain. The suffocating toxicity of my old life vanished.

Out here, I threw my baggage to the wind and just lived. I found myself actually envying Beau.

The city was a snake pit of complex, twisted agendas, but out here, things were raw, pure, and real.

We were leaning against the warm hood of the SUV, watching the sun dip below the ridgeline. I let out a long, easy breath. "I envy you, Beau.

Living out here… it's perfect." Beau slowly turned his head. His intense, dark eyes locked onto my face. He didn't say a word. The silence stretched.

I turned to look at him, catching a heavy, unreadable emotion swirling in his gaze. Finally, his deep, gravelly voice broke the quiet. "You want to stay?" My breath hitched.

I broke eye contact, staring back at the fading light. "I do." I swallowed hard. "But I don't belong out here." The faint, relaxed lines around Beau’s mouth completely vanished.

A long moment passed. The corner of his mouth twitched into a harsh, bitter smirk. The sun finally sank, plunging the plains into shadow.

I pushed off the hood, telling him it was time to head back. Before I could take a single step, his hand shot out. His large, calloused fingers clamped down on my wrist.

Thick, blue veins stood out violently against his sunbaked skin. The sheer, radiating heat of his palm burned straight through my sleeve, sending a sharp jolt right up my arm.

I trailed my eyes up his heavy forearm to his face. His dark brows pulled together, a raw, conflicted storm raging in his eyes.

His broad chest rose and fell in jagged, heavy breaths. His lips parted, but he just ground his teeth together, swallowing whatever he was about to say.

I tilted my head, keeping my voice perfectly steady. "Beau. We need to go." I firmly twisted my wrist out of his iron grip and climbed into the driver's seat.

Beau stood frozen in the dirt for a long moment, completely motionless. Finally, he wrenched open the passenger door and got in. The drive back to the cabin was dead silent.

The heavy, suffocating tension in the cab was thick enough to cut with a hunting knife. The next day, Beau didn't show up. Without a guide, I had nowhere to go.

I paced around the cabin, staring blankly at the wall. Bored out of my mind, I remembered my phone. It had been powered off since I landed.

I dug it out of my bag and held down the power button. The screen lit up.

The device instantly vibrated like a jackhammer, freezing up as hundreds of missed calls and unread texts flooded the screen. I scrolled through the mess.

Most were panicked checkins from my parents and friends. But mixed in were dozens of texts from unknown numbers. Nathaniel's burners.

I texted my parents a quick "I'm alive" and fired off a few replies to my friends. Then, I tapped open the unknown messages.

The sheer, toxic arrogance radiating from the screen was nauseating. [ What the hell does 'we're done' mean? Stop throwing a tantrum. ] [ Where are you?

Why am I blocked? ] [ I took another woman on a trip for two months. So what?

Why are you being so damn petty? ] [ If you walk through the door right now, I'll pretend this little stunt never happened. ] [ Who the fuck do you think you are? You don't dump me!

I gave you everything!

You have no right to treat me like this! ] [ If you don't come crawling back right now, don't ever expect me to take you back! ] Chapter 8 Every word on the screen dug into my retinas.

The toxic needles I had buried deep in my chest pierced right through, tearing the wounds wide open. The hardwon peace of the last few days evaporated in a split second.

I was out of my damn mind for turning this thing back on. Suddenly, the phone vibrated violently against my palm. Another burner number flashed across the screen.

I stared at it for a second, my jaw tightening, before I swiped the screen and brought it to my ear. The person on the other end clearly expected it to go to voicemail.

A beat of dead silence passed. "Blair? Why the hell is your phone off?

Where are you?" Nathaniel’s abrasive, impatient voice tore through the speaker. "Do you have any idea how long I've been looking for you? What kind of sick game are you playing?

You pull that stunt and just run off?" The blood rushed straight to my head, a violent throbbing kicking up behind my temples. "Nathaniel." I gripped the phone, my voice dropping into a lethal chill. "I'm not the one playing sick games.

We're done.

Why are you still crawling back like a pathetic dog?" I could practically hear him narrowing his eyes. "You're serious?" A harsh laugh escaped my lips. "Dead serious." Nathaniel let out a dark, furious scoff. "Blair, don't you dare regret this." "I'd rather die." I pulled the phone away and hit end.

I dropped the device and pulled my knees tightly to my chest on the bed. A heavy weight settled over my ribs, making each breath shallow.

My fingers dug so hard into the mattress that my knuckles turned bonewhite. Twentyfour years of history didn't just vanish into thin air.

One single phone call from Nathaniel was all it took to rip open my ribs and carve me up from the inside out.

A shiver racked my spine, leaving my hands trembling. [ Nathaniel ] I had always been the one giving orders. Nobody dared to cross me. Blair was the only exception.

She actually had the nerve to just cut me off. One simple text, and she thought she could wash her hands of me. Nobody had ever dared to treat me like this.

In this relationship, I had compromised more times than I could count. I gave her everything she ever wanted, spoiled her rotten.

So what if I took a mistress while I was still young? In my circle, every man played the field before settling down and slipping on a wedding band.

I had been locked down with Blair since we came of age. My buddies constantly mocked me, calling me whipped for letting a woman leash me so early. I ignored their jokes.

Our relationship was flawless. Meeting Ruby was just an accident. I appreciated smart people.

But a smart, ruthless girl who clawed her way up from the absolute bottom of the food chain? That fascinated me.

Ruby had fought her way out of the slums to get into a top Ivy League. I knew she had to bleed and sweat a thousand times more than anyone else.

The first time I saw her was when I gave a guest lecture at her university.

She was the student who stood up in a lecture hall of hundreds, her voice ringing out with this raw, feral hunger.

When I went back to my penthouse, I couldn't get that image out of my head. I instinctively started comparing her to Blair.

Weighing them against each other, I realized Blair was just a spoiled, beautiful porcelain doll. But that girl who crawled up from the gutter? She was a fiercely ambitious prey.

Breaking her would satisfy every dark, predatory urge in my blood. Suddenly, I felt suffocated. For over two decades, my loyalty to Blair had been unshakable.

But that day, the foundation cracked. It didn't take long to convince myself.

If I missed out on this thrill now, who’s to say I wouldn't snap and do something worse after we were married?

Getting it out of my system now was vastly superior to cheating on my actual wife later. I was practically doing this for Blair.

Once I had my fill, our marriage would be perfectly smooth. But I knew Blair’s temper. She was stubborn and entirely too entitled.

If she found out, she would throw a massive tantrum and tear the roof down. So, I handled it.

I paid off our friends, locked down her parents, and ensured everyone kept their mouths shut. I was always going to come back to her anyway.

It was better to just keep her blissfully ignorant. I calculated the risks and officially gave myself a oneyear hall pass.

For exactly twelve months, I was going to indulge every sick, wild fantasy with Ruby. I still loved Blair. She was the one I would spend my life with.

Ruby was just a temporary spice. A brief intermission in the grand scheme of my life. The day I officially made Ruby my sugar baby, I slid a oneyear contract across the desk.

She was smart; she signed the NDA and the terms without batting an eye.

During this past year, I finally understood why the other billionaires in my circle never wanted to be tied down. The sheer, intoxicating thrill of it all.

I was more convinced than ever that I had made the absolute right call. If I had known it felt this good, I would have bought a few more toys to play with years ago.

Chapter 9 However, one night after we tangled the sheets, my little sugar baby wrapped her limbs around me, begging for a real title. Her palmsized face peered up from beneath me.

She looked up with wide, teary eyes, pleading that even as a mistress, she wanted to step into the light. I went soft. I couldn't spit out a rejection.

I started taking her to every highsociety gala and private club. I blatantly paraded her in front of my inner circle, my family, my business partners. They all caught the drift.

Everyone kept their mouths perfectly shut. I assumed when the twelvemonth contract expired, I would just wash my hands and walk away clean. I never expected Blair to find out.

Fine, she knew. The annoyance barely lasted a few seconds before I brushed it off. In our tax bracket, this kind of thing happened every day.

Blair would eventually get it through her head. Absolute monogamy was a myth; having a side piece was just the reality of power.

When the dust settled, it would just be the two of us anyway. Her screaming about a breakup was just a petty tantrum.

She wasn't stupid enough to actually throw away a billionaire for a fleeting grudge. I flew back to my penthouse. The place was entirely trashed.

I didn't even need to guess who took a golf club to my crystal. I just called a highend contractor to gut the place. I was planning on remodeling it for our bridal suite anyway.

Doing it early worked for me. I gave Blair the silent treatment for a few days, fully expecting her to come crawling back. She was surprisingly stubborn this time.

Not a single call. I shrugged it off. I was the man; lowering my head a fraction for my fiancée wasn't the end of the world. So, I lowered myself to offer a truce.

Only to find out she still had my main number blocked. My patience snapped.

When I finally got through on a burner phone, listening to that icy, defiant tone… I was furious, but my blood still ran hot for her.

I convinced myself she was just playing hard to get. I even put myself in her shoes for a second. The conclusion was simple.

If I were Blair, and someone pulled this on me, I’d slaughter the guy. Then I’d slaughter his little pet. But I wasn't Blair. That hypothetical meant absolutely nothing to me.

That twomonth global tour was the grand finale of my oneyear contract with Ruby. I genuinely enjoyed the past year and wanted a souvenir.

I hired a private documentary crew to shadow us, burning all that 4K footage onto hard drives. A whole locked vault full of them, just to look back on when I was bored.

Plus, this trip was basically a dry run. Now I knew the perfect itinerary for when I finally took Blair.

We’d retrace the exact same steps, but I’d overwrite everything with memories of just me and Blair.

Once Blair finished pouting and came back from wherever she was hiding, I’d forgive her little outburst. I decided. [ Blair ] Beau showed up the next morning wearing casual gear.

A simple fitted tee and cargo pants hugged his massive frame, somehow making his sharp, feral features pop even more. I turned away to hide the smirk pulling at my lips.

Having a dropdead gorgeous travel companion was undeniably an elite experience. We had planned a camping trip days ago.

Beau effortlessly hurled the heavy gear into the trunk, swung into the passenger seat, and punched a set of coordinates into the GPS. I checked the ETA and fired up the engine.

Beau’s spot was an absolute jackpot. We parked on a grassy plateau. The ground was flat, blanketed in thick vegetation.

In the distance, jagged mountain peaks clawed at the sky, their snowcapped summits gleaming under a wash of soft, liquid gold from the sun.

A crystalclear creek cut right through the campsite, the water so pure you could see trout darting over the smooth stones.

The sheer, untouched peace of it all was suffocatingly beautiful. Beau didn't say a word. He just went to work, his thick arms flexing as he pitched two heavyduty tents in minutes.

He unfolded the camp table and started prepping the steaks. Every movement was brutally efficient. I leaned against the SUV, just watching him.

I tried to step in, but he had it locked down so tight I was basically useless. He smoothed out the canvas tablecloth and dropped into a camp chair.

I walked over and stood right in front of him, my shadow falling across his chest. "Beau. We need to talk." Beau tilted his head back, his dark brows pulling together slightly.

I grabbed two icecold waters from the cooler. I tossed one straight to his chest, cracked the other open, and took a slow swallow. I lowered the bottle, my voice dead calm. "Beau.

You want me." It wasn't a question. His head snapped up, the raw shock burning in his dark eyes. "How did you—" "I want you too." I cut him off clean.

Chapter 10 Beau stiffened, his jaw dropping a fraction of an inch as the words landed. I pushed my advantage. "So?

Are you going to be my boyfriend or not?" Before he could even process the question, I grabbed his collar, yanked him down to my level, and smashed my lips against his.

His lips were surprisingly soft, carrying the crisp, damp chill of the mountain air. He froze, his dark eyes blown wide open.

I pulled back just an inch, my voice dropping into a soft tease. "Don't like it?" Beau’s brain finally kicked back online.

A violent flush stained his neck as his massive arms wrapped hesitantly around my waist. "I like it," he rasped, his voice rough. "I really like it." The temperature in the tent spiked.

With our bodies pressed completely flush together, the rest was inevitable. Beau was completely raw.

His initial clumsiness and desperate heat caught me off guard, but he learned terrifyingly fast. Driven by pure, feral instinct, he figured it out in record time.

Tasting this kind of release for the very first time, he had zero concept of restraint. He kept me pinned to the sleeping bag until the sky started turning gray.

When I finally woke up, my eyes landed on the empty foil wrappers scattered on the floor. I let out a breathless scoff. Eighteenyearolds and their stamina.

A heavy arm was clamped like a steel vise around my waist. I shifted, my sore muscles instantly protesting. Beau blinked his heavy eyes open.

The memories of his absolute lack of control last night flooded his brain, and a delayed, furious blush crept right up his chiseled jaw. "Morning," he mumbled, his rough voice thick with sleep.

I offered a lazy smirk. "Morning." He had cleaned me up as best he could in the dark, but not taking a real shower felt sticky.

He boiled some water on the camp stove, and I managed a rough sponge bath with a towel. Once the burning ache in my thighs subsided just enough to walk, we packed up to head back.

Was there anyone more pathetic than me? After surviving a brutal, allnight workout, I still had to drag my exhausted body behind the wheel. I shot Beau a heated glare.

He looked more tortured about his lack of a license than I was.

Sitting in the passenger seat, his mouth pulled into a tight line, looking like a massive, guilty golden retriever about to get scolded. "I'm sorry," he muttered, avoiding my eyes. "After I did… all that… you still have to drive." I immediately softened, reaching over to squeeze his arm.

It suddenly hit me—underneath all that wild, untamed muscle, Beau was ridiculously softhearted. It was a staggering contrast to the fierce, arrogant rider who dominated the rodeo.

That insane gap completely wiped out my annoyance. I parked the SUV right in front of the cabin. Cynthia immediately burst out the front door, her face tense. "Blair!

Your mother literally called the landline. Is your phone off? She said she can't reach you." I stepped out of the driver's side, and my knees instantly buckled.

Beau lunged, his large hand wrapping firmly around my waist to keep me upright. Cynthia stopped midsentence, finally noticing Beau's hand securely anchored to my hip.

Her eyes darted back and forth between us, a knowing, wicked smirk spreading across her face. "Oh. I see…" Beau’s ears burned red. He looked away, his jaw tight.

I completely owned it, shooting her a relaxed smile. "Yeah, my phone died. I'll call her back in a minute.

Thanks, Cynthia." Once inside my room, I powered up my phone and stepped out onto the balcony to dial my parents. The call connected.

They asked a few basic questions before the line was abruptly handed over. It was Nathaniel.

His voice slid smoothly through the speaker, radiating that sickeningly flawless concern, as if nothing had ever happened. "Blair. When are you coming home?

I'll have the driver pick you up at the tarmac." The memory of our explosive phone call just days ago rushed back. I had been perfectly, brutally clear.

What the hell was this sudden performance? Playing the devoted fiancé? Acting like the bigger person? The absolute high I had been riding all morning instantly shattered.

I stood frozen on the balcony, my face carved from ice, taking slow, deep breaths to control the fury burning in my veins. Beau sensed the immediate shift in the air.

He stepped up and knocked lightly on the glass slider. "Bath's ready," he said quietly. I looked through the glass at Beau.

Meeting his dark, clear, and fiercely loyal eyes, the toxic grip in my chest instantly loosened.

I slid the glass door open, stepped right into his space, and looped my arms loosely around his thick neck.

I tilted my head, my voice dropping into a husky purr. "Join me?" Beau’s face flooded with heat.

He stammered, completely caught off guard. "You… you don't… need me to—" His Adam's apple bobbed wildly as he swallowed hard, clearly shortcircuiting at the aggressive pace.

My mood instantly skyrocketed, a wicked thrill replacing the anger.

Chapter 11 I shoved him against the freezing tiles of the bathroom, dropping my head to bite down hard on his Adam's apple.

I listened to his ragged, desperate gasp echo off the walls. Beau’s massive frame snapped rigid, and he swallowed heavily.

A dark, violent flush instantly crawled up his neck, burning across his ears and sharp jawline.

Beneath his clothes, his skin radiated heat like a damn furnace, a bow pulled completely taut and ready to snap. The room spun.

He swept me into his arms, and a second later, the warm water of the massive tub swallowed me whole.

Before I could even adjust my footing, his heavy, impatient body pressed me down. A crushing wave of kisses rained over my bare skin.

The remaining scraps of my clothes were ruthlessly torn away. When I finally opened my eyes again, I was tangled in the thick bedsheets, and the room was pitch black.

The low hum of the A/C was the only sound in the dark, pumping a steady stream of icy air into the room. I reached out and clicked on the bedside lamp.

Rolling over, my eyes landed straight on Beau’s raw, wildly handsome face. Fast asleep, the feral edge he carried all day completely vanished.

His thick lashes fluttered slightly, slowly lifting to reveal those dark, obsidian eyes, practically melting with a ridiculous amount of raw, unguarded devotion.

I couldn't help it—I leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his eyelids. The massive guy simply let out a low grunt and pulled me even tighter against his rockhard chest.

We didn't step foot outside the cabin for three solid days. I physically couldn't take it anymore.

Beau’s stamina was absolutely terrifying, and I desperately needed a break to just breathe.

After a quick shower, we finally dragged ourselves out of the room to head to a local studio for a Westernstyle photoshoot.

Walking through the lobby, Cynthia caught my eye, flashed a wicked thumbsup, and gave me a deeply loaded smirk. I just laughed, covering my mouth as we walked out to the SUV.

I got my makeup done at the studio and slipped into a customfitted, rugged desertchic outfit. The photographer drove us up to a high ridgeline.

As the sun dipped, the entire sky behind us bled into a violent, burning crimson. Beau stood off to the side, waiting patiently. Every time our eyes lock