Falling For His Fake Mate

4

Zane.

“So you mean you sent your niece to meet with me?” I asked Matthew as he stood upright against my father’s car and he looked down.

Matthew straightened like a soldier about to be court-martialed. His eyes didn’t quite meet mine. “I’m sorry sir. Your father asked me to find someone and it was short notice, so I told her to meet with you. I know she can be a brat sometimes, so pardon her.” he said, folding his hands in front of him.

I smirked, as the poor man trembled. I could smell the fear on him, and I knew I could use that to my advantage. “I need her address then.” I said and his head snapped up in fear. I wasn’t sure what he was thinking I needed the address for but I said nothing, waiting for him to say his mind.

Matthew clenched his hands together as if trying to pray. “I don’t know what she did or said, but can you please, forgive her. Lily can be a brat sometimes, but she’s a good girl.” He said.

Oh, he thought she had done something wrong? Interesting. I hadn’t seen that side of hers yet. Well, she hadn’t thrown a tantrum like he thought. I just needed to find her to get her answer on the offer I made her, and that was all. She had not only not picked my calls but never replied to my text.

“She didn’t do anything wrong,” I said, straightening off the car. “But she hasn’t returned my calls. Or my texts. I’m here for an answer.”

He hesitated for only a moment more, then sighed, defeated. “Apartment 406. Oakridge Building, on Westfield. But… please don’t hurt her pride. She doesn’t handle being called out very well.”

Well, that sure included him. “She’s a good girl deep down. She just doesn’t show it often. She’s a great woman, just like her sister.” He said, then quickly added. “Step-sister.”

“I didn’t ask you.” I said, looking down at the screen of my phone.

“I know sir, I just didn’t want to lie to you anymore, or keep things from you.” He said and I almost rolled my eyes.

I started towards my car, not waiting for the driver, my omega. I needed the space to think, so I drove myself. My hands gripped the wheel tighter than necessary as I weaved through traffic, my mind replaying every second of our conversation from last Friday. The way she had hesitated, like she was holding back something. Maybe she had known who her uncle was setting her up with, and I was the only one in the dark.

The way her eyes had lingered on mine before she left, and the way I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her since, all suspicious.

When I got to the Oakridge Building, I parked out front, climbed the stairs two at a time as there was no elevator, and knocked on the door marked 406.

What I expected: Lily, the same woman from Friday night, with that stunning left-mouth dimple, those expressive eyes, and that no-bullshit gaze.

What I got: a strange woman, standing in the doorway in sweatpants and a clay face mask, two cucumber slices balanced over her closed eyes like she was mid-spa retreat, with her head tilted backward.

She didn’t even look at me. “Who the hell are you and what do you want?” she asked in a flat, unimpressed tone, head tilted backward.

“I’m looking for Lily Marchand,” I said, trying not to sound as thrown as I felt.

She snorted. “I’m she. Who the hell are you?” she said rudely, scrunching up her face.

Okay, now I knew something was wrong. This was not the woman I met.

“I just want to see Lily Marchand, that’s all, miss,” I said ans she scoffed, grunting.

“Miss? Is that me?” she asked, laughing, then she said again. “I’ve told you in Lily Marchand, so state your business and be on your way.”

“Are you sure?” I asked slowly. “Because I could’ve sworn it wasn’t you I saw last Friday.”

There was a beat of silence for a moment, then the expression on her face changed, as if recognition had finally dawned on her. She yelled over her shoulder, “Jasmine! Someone’s here to see you!”

I blinked. Jasmine? Who was that?

A muffled voice called back from inside, followed by approaching footsteps. I started to respond… “I’m not looking for a Jasmine, miss. I just want to see…” but I stopped mid-sentence the second she appeared.

Her voice came first. “Who’s it, Lily? Who’s looking for me?” And then she stepped propely into view.

There she was. The woman I met, the woman I wanted to see, only she wasn’t who she said she was, and I stood there, staring at her.