An hour later, we’ve bid Emily goodbye and we’re in the air in one of Jeremiah’s private plane.

“How dare you sit there and look angry when I was the one who had to endure all her talk?” I clench my fists, trying to control my anger.

“Don’t even try to pin this on me because I warned you.” Jeremiah glares at me from his seat.

“Well, don’t expect anything tonight. I’d throw myself off this plane before I ever think of having sex with you.” I bare my teeth, spoiling for a fight.

He scoffs. “I wouldn’t even consider f*ck!ng you if I was paid to do it.”

“Then stop looking at me like that!” I lose my temper and throw a glass of champagne at him. He dodges, and the glass hits the side of the table, shattering on impact.

I gape in surprise, genuinely shocked by my outburst. Just how much have I had to drink?

Jeremiah levels me with a cold gaze, annoyance etched across his breathtaking face.

“Since you want to know why I’m so angry, I’ll tell you.”

He gets up, then grabs my hand and pulls me out of my seat. I stagger forward as he pulls me close, slamming me against his hard body. A gasp escapes my lips, and my heart skips a beat. The heat of his body is overwhelming.

“I’m angry because my plans went up in smoke because of you.” He takes my face in his hands, and I shiver as I stare into his stormy gray eyes.

“I planned for the day my mother would meet the Melissa who made me happy, how they would bond over her silly talks. I looked forward to that moment for months.”

His fingers brush my bottom lip gently, and my knees go weak. I unconsciously lean into him for support, and he wraps an arm around my waist, holding me tight against his rock-hard body.

“When I watched my mother with you today, she looked so happy to finally have a daughter-in-law. I haven’t seen her this happy in months.”

His fingers trail a path slowly from my lips down. When he grabs my throat, I let out a gasp and bite my lips to suppress a moan. His hand is hot against my throat and a warmth is beginning to spread between my legs.

I look up to see his dark eyes fixed on my breasts, and I swallow nervously. He’s still speaking, though his voice has dropped to a whisper now.

“The sight of my mother’s smiling face made my heart hurt. It made me tremble in fury because she was bonding with a fraud. A f*cking fraud.” His voice hardens with anger, and I feel my blood run cold.

I try to pull away, but his head drops an inch lower, and his lips brush my throat in a soft kiss. I forget how to breathe.

“My mother met you but you’re not the woman I’m in love with. You’ll never be her. You’re a fraud Melissa Rogers, and that’s all you’ll ever be.”

Suddenly, a burst of anger erupts in me, and I wrench myself from his grasp.

“Then get the f*ck away from me Jeremiah Blackthorne.”

He straightens, his face a blank canvas, all emotions wiped away.

“For the sake of my mother and the public, we will keep up this facade. We will pretend to be in love. But once I get tired of playing, this little game will be over.”

“What about my brother, Jason, how do I get him back if you don’t help me?”

“That...is none of my business.”

“So you don’t care if a little boy dies for this?” I bite my lip, trying to hold in the tears of frustration that’s threatening to fall.

“I have no interest in matters that are of no benefit to me.” He turns to walk away.

But then, he stops and levels his cold gaze on me. “Make sure you don’t throw up in my plane.” And then he’s gone without a backward glance.

“Asshole!” I scream. I feel angry, foolish, and used for some reason. The urge to bash my head against a glass pane is overwhelming.

Elias chooses that moment to walk in. He turns in a circle, taking in the mess on the floor. “I’ll get someone to take care of this. You should get some rest; you’ll feel better when we land.”

“I doubt that very much, Elias,” I hiss, not caring that I’m transferring my aggression onto him.

He sighs, looking apologetic. “It’s alright, Mel. You’ll get through this, just like every other thing.” He squeezes my shoulder in reassurance, and I freeze. Did he think Jeremiah was the one who shattered the glass on the floor?

“What do you mean ‘like every other thing’? What kind of things did Jeremiah do to her?” I grab him to prevent him from leaving. His palm is surprisingly soft in my hand, and his eyes widen.

He arches a brow in confusion, and I realize my mistake—too late. If anything was going on in the relationship, I’m supposed to know as Melissa Richardson. Elias doesn’t know I’m the fake.

“Sorry, I think I’ve had too much champagne. I say stupid things when I’m drunk.” I try to cover up the awkwardness with a forced laugh.

He smiles back awkwardly and gently pulls his hand from mine. “I think I’ll leave now. Goodnight, Mel.”

But as he turns to walk away, I notice a disturbing look on his face. His eyes darken with emotion, like he’s having a silent battle, like he’s trying to warn me about something. “Elias...” I call out softly.

But then the look is gone. He turns stiffly and walks away. I huff—weirdo.

When I’m alone, I pull out a burner phone from my bra and send a message. I might look like a fool, sipping champagne and sitting on a private jet, but I have successfully carried out phase 1 of the plan.

Jeremiah Blackthorne wouldn’t know what hit him by the time phase two takes off.

I try not to feel guilty about what’s going to happen. I remind myself that I have to do this for family, for Jason.