I felt like crap when I hung up the phone. I acted like I didn’t want anyone to know I was falling in love with this woman I hardly knew. Peter, my closest acquaintance, who, to all intents and purposes, could be referred to as my friend, wanted me to find out more about her. I tried to blow it off by shielding myself behind a pretense of bravado. But because he had mentioned it, my overactive mind quickly became curious. And it all made sense. I hadn’t met her family—not one in almost three months. I didn’t know anything about her, and although she’d said she owned a fashion business and dabbled in real estate, I wasn’t aware of her going to work.

I had questioned Joshua, but the only places he had gone with her were the mall or other miscellaneous places such as the spa or the country club. The last one had been under my recommendation, which meant she was mostly home. Did she even have relatives? Well, she had to come from somewhere. Did it matter where she came from?

My buzzing mind kept me in my own room that night, and as soon as I awoke the following morning, I rushed out and headed to the office. I felt like a jerk, sneaking around like that, but I’d had this gnawing feeling since Peter drummed those doubts into my head. I wanted to find out the truth about Anna which was harder than I expected. Internet searches revealed nothing. Several phone calls came up empty. No one knew her, as if she was an imaginary person—someone who had suddenly sprang to life and landed in my world.

“I told you there was something wrong with her,” Peter added later that day. “I mean, even criminals aren’t so hard to find.”

“This is ridiculous, Peter. She had to come from somewhere,” I insisted.

“I agree,” he continued. “But it’s obvious she isn’t what she claims to be. Tell me, what fashion business does she own? Have you checked?”

I was ashamed to answer. I had always prided myself on being astute and diligent in my affairs, marriage or otherwise, but Anna had blindsided me. One look at those brown eyes and flaming red hair had left me crumpled on the floor like trash. She had won me over from the beginning, and I hadn’t bothered to check the rest. I was afraid of what I might find, and my fear was evident in how my heart thundered as Peter spoke.

“I haven’t. But I’ve seen her with her chalk and easel…” I sounded stupid even to myself when the words left my lips.

Peter laughed robustly, and the phone vibrated against my ear. “I can’t believe you got played by a chick. You need to get out more.”

It still didn’t make sense. Even if she had tricked me into marrying her, what did she benefit from it? She hardly left the house, and I had to practically force her to spend the money I gave her.

“I’m not going to toss her out because something doesn’t smell right,” I protested.

Peter was quiet for a moment. “Why don’t you hire a private investigator? She must be hiding something from you.”

I hadn’t thought of that. Man, I must be getting old, or had she gotten that much under my skin? “I just might do that.”

That day, I called an old family acquaintance. Bruce was the best at what he did, and he took on the case without a second thought.

“Pretty girl.” He whistled. “I can’t imagine her doing anything bad. But then, that’s how they usually look, don’t they?” He stuck a piece of tobacco into his mouth and started chewing. He stared at the picture a while longer and nodded. “I’ll get back to you in a few days. If there’s anything shady about this redhead, I’ll find it.

He shrugged into his coat, pulled the collar up, and was gone. I sat in my chair long after he left and way past five. I wasn’t looking forward to going home. I was too busy trying to come up with what Bruce might find. He was very good at his job, and in my circle, he was hired for all sorts of work, from a bounty hunting to spying on cheating wives and husbands. He never returned empty-handed. Which scared me. I wasn’t ready for what he would bring.

By the time I got home, it was past eight. I knew Anna would be in her room, and I crept into mine, trying not to get her attention. It was a wasted effort. She was waiting for me in the darkness of my domain.

“Hi,” she said when I came in.

She knocked the wind right out of my lungs. “Hi,” I replied in an almost squeaky voice. Why the hell did I feel like I was sneaking around when I was damn well entitled to know if the woman I had married was a fake?

“What are you doing in here?”

She didn’t say anything. She simply twiddled her thumbs and stared at me through eyes I didn’t recognize—they looked even more ominous as she sat on the ottoman, glowering at me.

“I waited for you at dinner, but you didn’t show. Long day at work?”

She had never asked questions like this before, and I got flashes of movies I’d seen where people changed their identities after they had committed some heinous crime in another country. Her profile could have been set to allure me, pull me into her spider web, where she planned on…I didn’t even want to think about it. I merely hoped Bruce would come back with something soon.

I inhaled deeply before answering. “Yeah. One meeting after another. I’m about ready to grab a quick shower and crawl into bed. You okay?”

Not exactly the kind of conversation a married couple would be having—not in those tones anyway.

“I’m fine. Listen, Raymond…” She paused.

I cocked my head to the side and waited for her to continue. “Yes?”

She looked at me through frightened eyes, and I saw something else there too. It felt like she wanted me to say something, or do something, but I didn’t know what. And after the day I’d had, I wasn’t in the mood to share my room with her.

“It’s okay,” she said and stood. Her eyes glistened, and she looked down as she left the room. I didn’t know if I should be relieved or angry at myself. I didn’t know what the hell I was doing, but until I knew more, it would be better if I stayed away from her. I’d explain later or find an excuse for it.

A few days passed with no word from Bruce. I got even more concerned until one Saturday I was in my home office and my phone rang.

“Bruce!” I answered anxiously and hurried to close the door so I could gain more privacy. “What did you find?” There was no question he had found something.

“Are you around a computer?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I replied hastily, sweat beads springing up on my forehead.

“Check your email.”

I already had the tab open, and I opened my inbox on the screen and saw his message. I clicked gingerly on the message and opened the attachment. I wasn’t sure what I was looking at. There were photos of an old dilapidated building on Water Street sporting a sign hanging from the front that was barely visible.

“What is this?” I asked him.

“Keep looking,” he advised.

Other photos showed a woman entering the building, her scarf pulled down over her face to appear inconspicuous. A few more showed her coming out again, and the face was unmistakable. It was Anna.

“I don’t know what this is saying,” I replied in a confused tone. “What is this?”

“I saw your redhead going into this building—a shelter for the homeless—more than once. On the second visit, I went in after her and asked a few questions. Turns out she has a sister and a mother who live there. Until some months ago when she got a job as a housekeeper with the Sampsons, that’s where she lived too. And get this, her last name isn’t even Bolton. It’s Ramsey.”

I heard what Bruce was saying, but it had not yet taken root in my less than receptive mind. What he was saying was that my wife—the woman who’d told me she owned a fashion business and made real estate investments, the woman who was supposed to be a socialite—was nothing more than a poor girl.

“No, no, you must have it wrong. Maybe she’s running a charity mission there. Maybe she is trying to help them with—”

“If she’s trying to help anyone, Raymond, it’s herself. The girl left her mother and sick sister in a shelter and married you. You were her ticket out of there.”

This cannot be happening!

Although I had only wanted a mail-order bride to have my children and go out in public with me, I’d had a specific woman in mind. How could I have been so stupid! So many times I thought about digging into her background, and each time I had been distracted, or I’d forgotten about it. I let her beauty entrance me, and I thought, several times, what could possibly be so bad about a face like that? I had seen Bolton Enterprises and Bolton Real Estate Zone and assumed she was a part of either. Or one of the other Boltons I’d seen who I knew came from money. She wasn’t even a Bolton, but a Ramsey!

I felt like an idiot thinking about the day at the Regent, how all the other women there had seen how different she was. Marissa had warned me several times that something was off about her, and I had seen glimpses of it, too. But I didn’t want to believe. I thought she had been forced into this like I was, and that maybe she was recently estranged from her wealthy family so she had to find a rich man. That, I could live with. But I didn’t know how to be with a poor girl who pretended to be rich simply to land a rich man.

I was heaving by the time Bruce hung up, and I sank into the chair as I stared at the computer screen, the images taking an even more ominous appearance. I rapped my knuckles on the desk, and as the rage swelled in me, I made one sweeping motion and cleared most of the items off my desk. I chucked the chair back and it slammed into the wall.

I didn’t need to think about what had to happen next. Anna Bolton – Ramsey – or whatever the hell her name is, would go back to her shelter for the homeless. Everything I had felt for her before was vehemently swept under the proverbial rug, and I felt nothing but disgust. I had been sleeping with a…a… I couldn’t even bring myself to think about it again. And when my mother heard about it… that was another embarrassment for another time. But I had to get her out of my house and hope that no one found out why. I could always find another bride, and next time around, I would be much more diligent.

I went back to the chair and sat, allowing my temper to cool before I went searching for her. I was happy she hadn’t gotten pregnant, and I inwardly applauded my keeping away from her for so many weeks. But I had barely escaped because we had been getting close over the last few days.

I was still mulling over the news and what I had to do next when the door opened with a loud bang and the devil herself stood in front of me, fuming as her eyes flashed fury, an even match to her flaming hair. I scowled, pressed my fingers down into the solid wood desk, and felt the pressure build up in my fingertips as I rose to meet the beast I now despised.

Chapter Fifteen (Anna)

I’m not doing this. No fuckin’ way! Not even for a billion dollars. It was impossible to live with Raymond when I knew how he viewed me. I was nothing but a contract, and even after two months and then some, after nights of making love, I was nothing more to him. I had no reason to believe he would want me after I had his child. I had fallen for him, head over heels, and I couldn’t stay knowing he didn’t feel the same way.

The tears blinded me as I stuffed my clothes in a carryon I could manage to walk with. I had no idea where to go. Maybe Henrietta could ask her mother to give me a job. My heart ached as I thought about it, and I felt an enormous weight burden my chest. I was hyperventilating as I angrily crammed the smaller items I thought would fit—underwear, shirts, shorts, summer dresses—if he would let me leave with anything.

But secretly, I hoped I was wrong.

I looked at the tightly packed luggage, feeling anxious about what I had to do. I knew he was down in the study because I had checked. All that was left was for me to go down and confront him. The more I thought about doing it, the angrier I felt. I could understand if he had always been aloof, but to come onto me, to use me like he did—that was disgusting, and it made me sick to my stomach. I might be poor, but I had my pride.

I left the luggage in the room and headed for the study. I didn’t hesitate and pushed the door in, harder than I thought, and it banged against the wall.

“What the hell do you want from me, Raymond?” I asked before I saw the paraphernalia on the floor and his equally angry face.

“What do I want?” he snarled and pulled his chair closer to the desk.

“Yes!” I would not back down from this, no matter how much money and power he might have. “One minute you want me, another minute I’m nothing but a contract! I heard you talking on the phone, so don’t even try to deny it. This could’ve worked. I don’t know why you feel like you had to prete—”

“Pretend!” He cut me off, and his eyes sliced right through me. He grabbed the computer monitor and turned it around to face me. “You talk about pretending? Tell me what I’m looking at here.”

The lump formed in my throat immediately. I didn’t expect to see a picture of the shelter, nor of my image as I left it. I felt woozy, and I rocked back against the wall for support. He had been following me after all, and I hadn’t been careful enough. I could hear Mom’s warning voice in my head, and my knees buckled under me. I gripped the arm of the chair to steady myself.

He folded his arms. “Anything? I thought you had more to say, Anna Bolton,” I emphasized.

I gulped. He knew. “Raymond, I can explain,” I mumbled.

“I’m sure you can,” he sneered. “But I don’t care. Whatever you have here is yours to take. Be gone by tomorrow.” He walked out.

I was tempted to tell him about the baby, hopefully to change his mind about throwing me out. Before, it had been my choice, but now that I no longer had one, it hurt even more. The tears rolled down my cheeks as the image on the screen burned into my mind. My hands moved on their own accord and clutched my abdomen. I had our baby growing inside me… what would he do if he knew? Would he take the child away from me and send me packing? How would I care for a baby without his money? I didn’t have any of my own. Maybe if I explained…

I chased after him and caught him as he entered the garden. “Raymond, wait…”

He stood next to the fountain, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his shorts. He didn’t move, nor did he look at me. But I knew he could hear me.

“Look, I didn’t mean to… this was not how I expected this to turn out. I…” I didn’t know what to say. I knew what I should say, but no matter how I said it, it wouldn’t come out right.

“I know how you hoped it would. What? You thought you could just waltz in here, make a killing, and move on?” He turned and his eyes were ablaze with anger.

“No, that’s not it. It’s just that…my mom is sick, and my sister too, and I thought that if I found a man…” This wasn’t coming out so good.

“Yeah. That’s what I thought—find an idiot to take care of you and your poor, sick family. What made you think I wouldn’t find out? What do you think would have happened when I did? That I would want you still? What the hell would I be doing with a…a girl like you?” His hands swept the length of my body and made me feel like less than trash.

“That’s not how you felt when your hands were all over this body,” I cried as my chest burned.

“Oh, God, don’t remind me,” he said and wiped his hand down his face like he was trying to erase the memory. “Thank God you didn’t get pregnant.”

The words knifed me right through the heart. He was unsympathetic to my tears. All he saw was that I was poor, and that alone was distasteful to him.

He continued, although it was more like he was musing. He didn’t look at me. “To think of all the times I went out with you. What if someone knew? Imagine what a fool I’d look like!”

“Is that all you can think about? Your image?” I retorted hotly. I could barely find food and medication to help my mother and sister, and all he cared about was his reputation.

“Yes!” he replied arrogantly. “If you had one you would understand.” He glowered at me, sinking me further into the ground with his eyes as he hammered home how important he was and how I was not. “Well, in all fairness, you do have one, just not one anyone would want.” He turned up his nose and started walking off.

“Raymond,” I said quickly and held onto his arm.

He shrugged me off. “Get off me. You don’t deserve my love.”

The anger swelled in me like a tidal wave and came crashing down on the shore of his condescension. “Your what? Your love? Do you even know what that is?”

He paused and turned to throw daggers at me with his eyes. “Watch it now,” he cautioned.

I was well past caution. He had already made up his mind, so I might as well give him a piece of mine. “Or what? You’ll throw me out? Too late for that. You know, when I first met you, I thought you were a nice, decent man… someone I could make something with.” I threw my arms into the air. “Yeah, I did it wrong. But what else was I supposed to do? I did it for my family, because I wanted to help them—to give my little sister a chance in this cold, cruel world. At least I had good intentions. But you”—I bore down on him, my index finger touching his chest I was sure was devoid of a heart— “you walk around feeling like King of the Hill, with all your money and power, and what did it get you? You don’t know what love is, and no amount of money will give it to you. You are a miserable man, Raymond, and I’d rather be poor and homeless and full of life, than be so cold and heartless. And empty,” I spat and skirted him as I stormed off.

I would find a way to survive on the streets. I didn’t need Raymond Jameson any longer.

My head felt like it would explode when I hurried past Grace and some of the other curious house staff who had apparently witnessed the fracas in the garden. I got to my—the—room, and pressed against the door as it clicked shut. Emotions swirled around me—anger, hurt, confusion, and pride. Mom had warned me, but my ambitions were above my pay grade, and now, I reaped the rewards of my idiocy. I had made a bad situation worse, because I had another person to think about. I needed to find a job before I started showing or no one would hire me. I didn’t even want to go back to Henrietta anymore. My pregnancy would only look more scandalous there.

I grabbed the carryon and reopened the door. I didn’t see Raymond on the way downstairs, but the house staff milled around, much more than before. I couldn’t say I blamed them. I was a spectacle, and everyone wanted to see the show. I held my head high and walked to the garage. That’s where I found Raymond waiting for me.

“I need a ride,” I defended right away. I thought he was there to prevent me from using the car.

Joshua stood by the driver’s side, waiting for his instructions.

Raymond clenched his jaw and turned to him. “Take her downtown!” He walked over to me, but I refused to look at him. “She might be more comfortable there.”

I swallowed but wouldn’t let him rile me up anymore. I bit my lower lip and rolled the luggage to the door. He didn’t help, and when Joshua attempted to, he pointed him back to the driver’s seat. He was colder than I had ever seen him, which was saying a lot.

I caught Joshua glancing at me from time to time in the mirror as he drove away, like he wanted to ask, but I was too embarrassed to speak. My heart was as heavy as the carryon I had with me as the car followed a familiar route. I didn’t want to go to the shelter – I didn’t know how to face Mom yet. So, I told him to take me to the bus bay instead. I still had a little money. I could find somewhere to sleep tonight.

When we got to the bus bay and I got out of the car, I saw Joshua’s eyes grow glossy. I could tell he was sympathetic towards me, which only made me want to cry.

“It’s okay,” I told him through a forced smile after climbing out of the car. “I survived before Raymond Jameson. I will survive again.”

I don’t think he bought it. He hugged me for the first time. “Take care, Anna,” he whispered against my ear.

I nodded and looked away quickly so he wouldn’t see the tears or the pain etched in my facial muscles. I watched as the limo pulled away from the curb, and I remained rooted to the spot, a few feet away from the bus bay. Several paved rectangular seats were available, and I wheeled everything I owned in the world behind me as I advanced on them. I fell, like dead weight, against the cold concrete structure, with no plan in mind and no idea what I would do next. Minutes later, I got up and looked around for the closest motel.