Mr. Blackwell's Bride: A Fake Marriage Romance (A Good Wife Book 2) Read online

“Wow, there’re so many.” What were they talking about? What did Noriko make?

  “Nine hundred and forty-two, to be exact.”

  I needed to see. Just a sliver of her. Just a piece.

  I slipped the key that I always carried with me into the lock and turned it slowly. Pushing the door open a crack, I searched for Noriko, my eyes hungry for her.

  Loretta and Noriko were standing in front of one of the shelves. It had been empty when Noriko moved in. Now it was covered in what looked like…paper cranes, all in different colors, some patterned, some plain.

  Loretta picked one of them up, a blue one, and turned it over in her hands. “Why paper cranes?”

  I strained to hear Noriko’s answer.

  “It’s part of the senbazuru legend,” she said, barely within my hearing. “Legend says that if you fold a thousand paper cranes you are granted one wish.”

  “And you’re going to fold all thousand cranes.”

  “Yes.”

  “What will you wish for?”

  “The only thing I want.”

  “Which is?”

  “I want to go home. Where I’m loved.”

  My heart stabbed. She didn’t think I loved her? How could she not feel my love? I’d given her everything to be happy: her own studio, the finest clothes, this beautiful house. What else? What more could I give? Whatever I had was hers.

  “Oh, Noriko,” Loretta slipped the crane back on the shelf. “You are loved.”

  Noriko’s answer might as well have been a bullet to my heart. “Here, in this mansion, I have everything except love.”

  I was drinking again.

  The world was fuzzy and my pain blunted when I drank.

  No wonder my father did it.

  The door to my study opened and Loretta stepped in. I think I had been waiting for her.

  “Drake Blackwell,” she began.

  “Loretta Stern,” I slurred back to her.

  “I have been with you since birth. I have raised you as if you were my own. You have done some questionable things. But this…locking your wife in her room while her father lies dying…this is almost unforgivable.”

  I winced as her words dug into my skin. I couldn’t lose Noriko. I couldn’t let her go. Why couldn’t anyone see that? “I don’t pay you to tell me what’s right or wrong.”

  “Somebody should! And apparently I am the only one who isn’t scared to tell you. You are being an ass.”

  Her words rained against my numbness like arrows. Under the fog, the beast simmered.

  “If you don’t let her go back to say goodbye to her father, she’ll never forgive you.”

  I slammed my glass down on the table. “If I let her go, she will never come back.”

  “Maybe. Maybe she will. If she doesn’t, you only have your terrible behavior to blame.”

  “No. She stays.” It was part of my plan. Keep her here. Fix it. Make her love me.

  “What are you going to do? Keep her locked up for the rest of her life?”

  “I…” Stupid details. “Just until she promises to stay.”

  Loretta let out a snort. “Really, boy? For someone so smart you really are stupid sometimes.”

  “Are you looking to get fired?”

  “Let her go. If she is yours—truly yours—she will come back.”

  “I will not lose her. I can’t lose her,” I yelled. “She stays.”

  Loretta shook her head, her eyes filling with pity. “I’m afraid you already may have.”

  48

  ____________

  Noriko

  I stared at the wall of my colorful paper cranes. My bright symbols of hope.

  Nine hundred and fifty-six.

  Only forty-four to go.

  I knew it was just a legend. But I needed hope. I needed something to hang on to. Or else I would go mad here, thinking about my father dying in a hospital bed somewhere alone.

  If only I could become a crane. To fold my body like paper and grow wings. I’d fly across the ocean to my papa. Nothing could stop me.

  But I wasn’t a crane. I was just a girl and no one could help me.

  Oh my God.

  I was so stupid. Why didn’t I think of it before?

  Because I was too numb with pain, too shaky with fury. I ran into my closet and snatched out my secret phone from its hiding place in my shoe. My fingers shook as I scrolled through the contacts and found the work cell number of the only person who had offered me help.

  I worried my bottom lip with my teeth as my finger hovered over the call button. Drake hated Jared. Drake would hate that I asked Jared for help. He’d never forgive me.

  Well, he shouldn’t have locked me in my fucking room. He shouldn’t have denied my last chance to be with my dying father. I held onto my anger, because anger was easy to grip. It was solid and dynamic, forcing me into action instead of letting me drown.

  “Noriko,” Jared answered almost instantly, “I’m so glad you called.”

  “Jared, please, I need help.” My voice came out breathy as if I’d been running for miles. My heart ached like I had been.

  “Jesus, Noriko. Is everything okay?”

  I let out a sob, a crack in my frozen grief as warm hope—real hope—flooded my body. Once I started talking, I couldn’t stop. Not even the thread of unease worming its way through me could stop the spill of secrets once the dam broke.

  I told him everything.

  49

  ____________

  Drake

  Roger slammed a newspaper on my desk in front of me. “What the hell is this?”

  “Good fucking morning to you too,” I muttered as I snatched up today’s broadsheet. My eyes fell upon the headline and my blood turned to ice in my veins.

  The Shocking Truth About Billionaire Drake Blackwell’s Wife!

  The mysterious Noriko Blackwell has been uncovered! Mrs. Blackwell is a poor teacher’s daughter from rural Japan. She agreed to marry the arrogant billionaire, Drake Blackwell, in an arranged marriage in order to pay for her father’s cancer treatments. Now that her father is close to death, Drake has locked her in her bedroom at Blackwell Manor in order to prevent her from returning to her homeland to see him. Mrs. Blackwell has sent out an urgent call for her release. This reporter can only imagine what kind of abuse is happening in the cursed Blackwell Manor. Like father, like son.

  “Is this true? You paid her to marry you? You’re keeping her locked up?”

  I drew my gaze up to Roger, my mind gaping open like a fish. How did this happen? Someone told the papers. Who? Who told the papers?

  There were only four people who knew the entire story contained in the article.

  Me, and I didn’t fucking spill my guts to a reporter.

  Isabelle, who would never allow this to get out. The same went for my lawyer who drew up the marriage contract. Both of them were under an ironclad confidentiality contract. Neither of them were stupid enough to burn their bridges with me like this.

  That left…Noriko.

  I sank back into my chair. Noriko told them. She betrayed me.

  “You know what?” Roger said, snapping me out of my thoughts. “I don’t care what the truth is. What the fuck are we going to do about it?” He ran his hands through his hair. “Your reputation in this business is everything, you know that. No one is going to want to do business with an abusive husband.”

  “I am not abusive!” I slammed my fist against the desk, making everything rattle. “I’m insulted at the suggestion.”

  Roger stabbed his finger at the article. “You are keeping your fucking wife locked up.”

  My blood ran cold.

  I was keeping my wife locked up.

  I was an abusive husband.

  No. No, no, no. That wasn’t true. I never hit her. Never. I was not like my father.

  Roger pushed back off the desk, swear words spit-firing out of his mouth. “Jesus fucking Christ, everything we’ve worked for, Drake.”

  “I know,” I
said quietly.

  “We’ll run damage control. We’ll send out a press release denying everything in this article. We need to get you and your wife out at a public event, a charity event, any fucking event. You two need to be sweet-as-pie, so-cute-I’m-going-to-barf, can’t-keep-your-hands-off-each-other lovebirds. Do you hear me?”

  “Yes,” I said woodenly. I let Roger take control of this situation because nothing in my mind was working.

  She betrayed me. My wife—my wife—betrayed me. I couldn’t even muster any anger at her. I had failed.

  “Hey, look at me.”

  My eyes snapped to Roger, who was leaning towards me, his palms flat on the desk. His eyes drilled into mine. “Can you make this happen? Can you be loving with your wife in public?”

  Noriko would never agree to it.

  Unless…unless I promised to let her go back to Japan.

  “Well, Drake? Can you?”

  What would it be, Drake? Your company and reputation…or your wife?

  Loretta’s words came back to me. “Let her go. If she is yours—truly yours—she will come back.”

  I had no choice. This wasn’t only my livelihood at stake. Every single employee in my company would suffer if my reputation did.

  I had to promise to send Noriko back to Japan if she pretended to love me for one night, for one public event.

  She’d do it even though she hated me. Because she loved her father more. I never had a chance.

  “She’ll do it.”

  Roger let out a huge sigh of relief. “Thank God. I’ll get our PR department to draw up the press release now. I’ll get Sam to find a suitable event to RSVP to for…say, tonight?”

  I nodded, numb through my pain. Roger left me alone with my demons, slamming the door to my office shut behind him.

  Tonight, Noriko and I would pretend to be happy. We’ll hold hands and I’ll wave to the reporters on the red carpet and she’ll smile at me like I am her world.

  God, it would kill me, having her hands on me and knowing it was all lies.

  Hadn’t it all been lies anyway?

  My heart crumpled. I didn’t want her to pretend.

  I wanted her to love me.

  I needed her to love me. I needed it so hard it hurt. My heart physically ached.

  I’d destroyed every chance I had with her. It was clear, written across these pages in black and white.

  I’d lost her. I’d only myself to blame. All I had left were pieces of this façade, shards of our sham, blurry dabs of chaos.

  And tonight. My one last night with her.

  I stared up at the Monet hanging on the opposite wall and my heart stabbed again. I remembered being with Noriko at the charity auction, sliding my hands around her waist and whispering into her ear, sharing our thoughts on painting. I think I started to love her then.

  As I gazed at the Monet this time, I couldn’t see my way out of the chaos, out of the mess I’d fallen into.

  Pain tore through my heart so hard this time it made me cry out.

  Oh God. It wasn’t just from a broken heart. This was real pain.

  “Sam,” I croaked out as I stabbed at the intercom with one hand, gripping my chest with the other. “Help. Me.”

  My door slammed open and Sam rushed in. “Oh my God, Drake.” She ran up to my desk. The next second she was on my phone, talking to emergency services, shouting out the address. “Get here, right now!” She slammed the phone down in its cradle.

  Pain throbbed through my left side. I crumpled over my thighs, no energy left to keep myself on my chair. “Don’t tell Noriko…don’t want…her to see…” I collapsed onto the carpet, the smell of carpet cleaner hitting my nose.

  This was it. I was going to die.

  You were right, Dr. Tao. It is my heart that will kill me.

  Even as my vision started to dim, death seemed to bring a clarity to my eyes. All of my accomplishments, my accolades, all of my money, my beautiful house and my cars and pretty toys, didn’t mean shit. These things dissipated like mist in the wake of the last sharp, bright seconds of my life.

  Who did I love?

  Noriko.

  Who loved me?

  No one.

  Why?

  Because I thought private jets and jewels and artists’ studios were enough to buy her love. I thought the obligation of marriage, the birth of a baby, the contract we both signed, would be enough to cement us together.

  I was wrong.

  I thought I had been loving her.

  I was wrong.

  I thought she was mine.

  I was wrong.

  They said your life flashed before your eyes before you died. For me, it was only the last four months of my life unfolding before me, where Noriko was a part of it. All those chances I blew to forge a real connection with her shone clearly like diamonds, mapping out a path of gems I had just walked past. If only I had seen them for what they were. If only I had stopped to pick them up.

  But it was too late.

  It was all too late.

  Blackness soaked up through my extremities and I felt death closing in. I could barely hear Sam crying at me to stay with her.

  All I could see was Noriko’s face. I wished I could have told her that I was sorry. Despite our secrets she parted with, I still loved her. For the first time in my life I understood what that meant.

  Her happiness means more to me than my own.

  I accepted my death because my death would make her free. With her freedom, I would finally make her happy.

  My broken heart beat once more for her.

  50

  ____________

  Drake

  Turned out I was a tough old bastard and I didn’t die easily.

  I opened my eyes with a groan. I heard the beeping of a machine and smelled the sharp scent of disinfectant and sickness. Ugh, I was in a hospital.

  There was a blurry feminine figure leaning over me.

  Noriko?

  I reached for her.

  “Good to have you back.” I recognized Sam’s voice.

  I dropped my hand.

  Sam was sitting beside my bed, her face drawn with concern. She lifted a cup and straw to my mouth and I sipped. Jesus, water was good. She pulled the straw away and I grumbled. “Not so fast.” She allowed me a few more sips before placing the cup on the table beside me. “You had a heart attack.”

  “No, shit Sherlock,” I croaked out.

  She snorted. “You must be feeling better if you’ve got enough energy to be an asshole.”

  I wanted to smile but everything hurt.

  I looked past Sam, searching the room for her. Noriko wasn’t there. My shoulders sagged. She wasn’t there.

  Sam must have read my mind because she said, “I wanted to call your wife but…you told me not to. Besides, I don’t have a number listed for her. You were calling for her when you were asleep.”

  I would call for her in my death, too.

  “Do you want me to call her now?”

  Shame filled my aching body when I remembered everything I’d put Noriko through. I couldn’t see her.

  I didn’t want her to see me like this. Close to death. Sick. Fragile.

  I had to make things right. I had to let her go. I had to release her.

  My chest filled with pain. This time the pain felt right. “Call Loretta. I want to speak to Loretta.”

  As Sam did what I asked, I closed my eyes and sent out my silent goodbyes.

  I’m sorry I couldn’t love you the way you should be loved. You deserve more than me.

  51

  ____________

  Noriko

  After I hung up with Jared yesterday I alternated between pacing the room and pressing up against my window, staring at the front gates in the distance. He promised to send help. I didn’t know how he was planning on doing that. Maybe he’d send in a helicopter or storm the gates. I had to believe he would help free me. That he would help get me back to Japan.

  Rushes
of guilt crackled underneath my skin. I could barely ignore it. I shouldn’t have spilled my secrets with Drake to another person. I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I needed help and Jared was the only one offering it to me. The longer I waited, the greater the chance that I wouldn’t get back to my father in time.

  Oh, God. What if I was too late? What if he died before I got a chance to see him again?

  My fingers shook as I made the familiar folds on a square of blood-red paper. I folded a face and beak. Then his tail appeared. Finally I gave him wings so he could fly.

  There. It was finished. One thousand paper cranes.

  I placed my little bird in the very center of the other nine hundred and ninety-nine cranes. I closed my eyes and made my wish.

  I want to go home. Let me go home.

  The door opened, startling me. Loretta entered the room, a solemn look on her face, her eyes red-rimmed as if she’d been crying.

  I moved towards her. “Loretta, what’s wrong?”

  She held up a hand, warning me not to come too close to her. “You are to pack your bags.”

  “Where am I going?”

  Her eyes flashed with something I could not decipher. “Home.”

  I could scarcely believe it. I was sitting on Drake’s private jet flying back home, in the same seat I sat in coming over here less than five months ago. Had it only been four months?

  No matter, in less than fourteen hours I’d be with my papa again.

  I picked at the expensive nail polish on my nails, a pale pink color like cherry blossoms. I’d never been a nail polish kind of girl. But while I’d been living in the Blackwell Manor, I’d taken to changing my nail polish color every day for something to do. That was, until Drake locked me in my room.

  The memory of that day seemed faded in my mind. My rage, the way I yelled, the vase I threw at him. Shame coated me. We had both been animals that day.

  The varnish on my nails was chipped, the gloss worn thin. Like my marriage to Drake. When our gloss faded, what were we left with? Lies. Pain. The fight.

  I won. I was going home.

  I would see my papa soon.

  So why wasn’t I happy?

  As I left the manor, hugging Loretta goodbye, I felt my heart pang. I would miss her, miss this house and…