Daddy's Fake Bride (A Fake Marriage Romance) Page 18

  I wondered if I might’ve accidentally put them on Dec’s side of the cabinet, so I leaned over and looked there. My heart began to thud painfully fast in my chest as I pushed some things at the back aside in my search for the tampon box. Sitting behind some shaving cream and aftershave was a bottle of hand sanitizer. Wait, no…two bottles of hand sanitizer. It wasn’t on my side, and I’d certainly never brought any into the room.

  It was definitely Dec’s.

  With trembling hands, I grabbed one of the bottles and turned it around so that I could check the ingredients label. Maybe this was just a coincidence; maybe this was another sort of sanitizer that didn’t even contain the chemical that was so abundant in my system right now. But even as I thought it, my eyes confirmed otherwise as they skimmed over the ingredients list.

  Contains triclosan.

  Chapter Thirty

  Dec

  “Honey, I’m home!”

  I grinned at my silly joke as I stepped inside the resort room I shared with Liv for as long as we were on the show, but my face soon drooped into a frown as I looked around. All the curtains were shut, blocking out the sun, and there were no lamps on to make up for the lack of light. Liv was sitting at the little table on the far side of the room in silence.

  “Baby girl, why are you sitting around in the dark?” I asked, crossing the room.

  “My head hurts,” she said.

  “Oh, shit. Taken some painkillers?”

  “Not yet.”

  Her answers were so brief, so stiff. She was obviously in some sort of mood. I sat down at the table across from her, and my frown deepened as I saw two large bottles of hand sanitizer in front of her. “What’s going on, Liv?”

  “I haven’t been feeling well lately,” she replied, evading the question. ”So I wanted to run something by you.”

  “Uh…sure. Shoot.”

  She stood up, looking down at me with a shrewd expression. “Something occurred to me today. Something I should’ve thought of sooner. You must really hate my family, right?”

  “Why?”

  “My dad screwed your family over in business. Took most of your money. Left you in a position where none of you could afford your sister’s expensive life-saving treatment. And then my mom tracked you down a few years later and offered to help your family as a sort of ‘fuck you’ to dad now that he’s dead, seeing as she couldn’t stand him when he was alive and probably wanted to make him roll over in his grave.”

  “That’s pretty much exactly what she said when she approached me, yes.”

  Liv nodded. “But even then, she wasn’t going to help you for free. Instead of just giving your family the money, she basically forced you to marry her so she could look good to her media buddies for a few years. She’s almost just as bad as my dad, if not worse. At least that’s how you must see it, right?”

  I shrugged. “I guess I wasn’t the biggest fan of your father while he was alive, but I’m not gonna talk shit about the dead. And as for your mom…well, you don’t exactly agree with what she’s done to me either. I know you aren’t her biggest fan.”

  “Not my point,” Liv said.

  “Then what is your point right now?” I asked, furrowing my brows.

  She remained standing. “Mom’s worth a few million. Nine, to be exact. She got ten percent of Dad’s fortune after he died. Callum and I got the remaining ninety percent. But Callum’s gone, so now that ninety percent is legally all mine. There’s a lot more than a few million there. So, let me paint you a picture.”

  I stroked my chin. “Okay.”

  “Imagine doing this. You could take Mom’s offer; marry her for a few years in exchange for enough money to help your own family. Or….you could do that and also get close to me. Close to the point where we eventually get married, after you’re no longer fake-married to Mom, of course. I’m worth a lot more than her, after all. You could make me a bit ill for a long time, make people start to see me as a sickly person in general. Then, somewhere down the track, you could make me sick enough to kill me. No one would suspect much, because they would’ve come to know me as being frequently ill by that stage. As my husband, you’d get all that money then. Way more than whatever Mom’s paying you. Hell, you could even knock her off too. Then you'd be the last one standing with a gigantic pile of cash that once belonged to my family. Far-fetched, perhaps, and it would presume that you're quite adept at getting away with murder. But if you pulled it off, it'd be the ultimate ‘fuck you’ to my family, wouldn't it?”

  “I suppose it would,” I replied slowly. “So is this something you think I’ve done? Or something I’m in the process of doing?”

  Liv sat down. To my surprise, she laughed. “No. I don’t think you’d do that. Not at all.”

  “What’s with the insane story, then?”

  She sighed. “I went to the doctor today,” she said. “Someone has been getting triclosan into my system somehow. It’s a hand sanitizer ingredient. I actually found two bottles of it in the cabinet.” She gestured to the hand sanitizer in front of her. “That’s why I’ve been feeling sick. I think someone’s been sneakily feeding me this sort of stuff.”

  “So you think I’ve been doing that?”

  Her eyes widened. “No! I’ll admit, that scenario I just described occurred to me for like…maybe ten seconds when I saw these bottles. You know, because I’m naturally a bit dramatic and my mind just randomly goes to crazy places. But then my brain actually kicked in properly, and I knew you could never do that. I trust you, Dec. You’ve never done anything that would make me not trust you. You’ve helped me and saved me so many damn times already, and I know beyond a shadow of doubt that it’s not you doing this to me.”

  “Jesus Christ, Liv. You nearly gave me a fucking heart attack.”

  “I guess I was trying to prove a point of how much I trust you,” she replied. “I may have over-dramatized it a bit…”

  “No shit. For a second, I thought you actually believed I was out to get you for your inheritance. Like a black widower.”

  She smiled sheepishly. “Sorry. No, I was just trying to illustrate the point that other people in your situation might be capable of such awful things. But I know you would never do anything like that.”

  “Right.” I suddenly sprang to my feet. “Wait, shit. You really buried the lead, Liv. Someone is trying to make you sick!”

  “Yup. At least, I’m pretty sure they are. I won’t know for absolute certain until I have more tests done in a week.”

  “But if some asshole is trying to hurt you, we don’t want to wait a week to be sure,” I said grimly. “We want to find out who the fuck it is right now.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Just to be clear, I have all that hand sanitizer out of pure habit,” I said, gesturing to the bottles. “With Amelia in the hospital all the time, I always have to make sure I’m totally clean before going to visit her, because she can be prone to infections. So it’s become a habit to always use hand sanitizer.”

  Liv touched her hand to mine. “I’m sorry, Dec. I didn’t mean to bring that up or sound like I was accusing you.”

  “It’s fine. I get it. But Liv, we need to figure out who the hell is trying to make you sick.”

  She shook her head. “I have no idea who it could be. I thought it could be Andrew slipping stuff in my food again, just to be a douche like he was on the yacht, but then Isobel reminded me that he and Yvonne got voted out a few weeks ago.”

  “True. So who’s left aside from us? Isobel, Mark, Hayley, Simon….who else?”

  “Emily and Juan.”

  “I genuinely always forget those two exist, even though there’s only eight of us left now.”

  “Same.”

  “So out of those people, who is most likely to be a dodgy prick going around poisoning people?” I asked. “I assume whoever is doing it thinks this triclosan stuff will make you feel sick enough to leave the island, forcing us to drop out of the show.”

  Liv
shrugged. “I guess so.”

  “So who?”

  “No idea. I’ve been thinking about it for an hour. Mark—no way. He’s so nice and meek. Isobel—also no way. I actually considered it could be her for a hot minute, but she really helped us with the Shayla debacle. If she was just going to screw us over eventually by making me sick, why would she bother helping us in the first place?”

  “That’s true. I think we can rule her and Mark out. So what about Hayley and Simon?”

  Liv paused. “Honestly, they both seem a little too…”

  “Vacant? Too dumb to even consider poisoning someone?”

  She gave me a tight smile. “That’s a bit of a mean way to say it, but yeah, that’s what I was getting at.”

  “I think Emily and Juan are much the same,” I said, scratching my chin in thought. “What about crew members? Have you pissed any of them off?”

  “Crap. I didn’t even think of any crew members. I hope I haven’t pissed any of them off enough to do something as horrible as this,” she said, a concerned frown puckering her arched brows.

  “Maybe one of them was best buddies with that junior producer, Ben. Maybe he or she knew it was us who contributed to him getting fired for sleeping with Shayla and spilling shit to her, and they wanted revenge.”

  “Maybe, yeah. Honestly, it could be anyone!” Liv sighed dejectedly, and for the first time since I stepped into the room, I saw genuine fear in her beautiful eyes. “How are we ever going to find out who’s been doing this?”

  I frowned. “I don’t know. But I’ll tell you one thing. I’m gonna get to the bottom of this. No matter what it takes.”

  She looked up at me, eyes shining with emotion. “Promise?”

  “Of course, baby girl. No one’s gonna hurt you ever again. And until then, you aren’t touching any food or water that doesn’t come straight out of a sealed packet.”

  She gave me a rueful smile. “Lucky there’s so many vending machines in the resort.”

  I nodded and patted her hand, returning her smile. On the inside, I was seething. Some fucking asshole was going out of their way to try and make my little girl sick, and when I found out who the hell it was, they were going to pay.

  One way or another, they were going down.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Dec

  Liv stared hungrily around the buffet room on the ground floor of the resort, where all the crew and contestants were currently having breakfast.

  “I wish I could have some eggs and croissants,” she said, miserable expression on her face.

  “I know. I’m sorry, baby,” I replied quietly.

  A week had passed, and despite our efforts we were no closer to figuring out who might be slipping hand sanitizer in Liv’s food or drinks. As such, I still didn’t want her eating anything which we didn’t know for sure was untainted. The food in the buffet was likely fine, as everyone else was eating it, but I didn’t want to risk it.

  I’d managed to whip up a few things for lunches and dinners in one of the resort kitchens over the last few nights when we had free time (if I prepared the food myself, I knew it was fine) so Liv wasn’t starving, but I knew she hated seeing all her favorite breakfast foods laid out in front of her, teasing and torturing her when she knew she couldn’t touch them.

  “Oh god, speaking of croissants,” Liv murmured. “Mom’s standing right near them with one of the senior producers. Do you think she’s going to come over here and talk to us?”

  I shrugged. “I dunno. Probably will at some point.”

  We’d both been worried about Ellen since the most recent elimination, which was filmed last night. Hayley and Simon had been voted off the show, and now only three couples remained. It was becoming increasingly obvious that Liv and I had no intention of doing anything to get ourselves voted out, and by this stage Ellen was sure to have caught on to that.

  Lo and behold, she caught sight of us and breezily walked over, takeout coffee cup in her hand. “Olivia. Dec,” she said by way of greeting. She ushered us over to a quiet corner where no one could hear our conversation.

  “Good morning, Mom,” Liv said.

  Ellen smiled. “Is it good? Because you two are still here, and it’s starting to get ridiculous. There’s only three weeks left. You need to get voted off. You know you can’t win, right?”

  “Why not?” Liv asked. “We signed the contracts like everyone else. We’re real contestants for all intents and purposes.”

  Ellen scoffed. “You only signed those contracts because you had to. If the network caught wind of anyone participating in one of their shows who hadn’t signed a contract…well, there’d be hell to pay for me.” She narrowed her eyes. “You’re almost making it sound as if you’re actively trying to win, Olivia.”

  Liv shook her head. “I was just pointing something out, that’s all,” she said meekly.

  “Well, whatever. You two really need to start taking this seriously and get voted off. Have a major argument, or tell each other how you aren’t attracted to each other. Anything to make the viewers change their minds about you two. You’re still our most popular couple, and that has to change. If you two win, some of the crew members who know about the situation might revolt and report me to the network heads, because it’ll look like I let my own daughter win the million dollars. Letting you compete is one thing, but letting you win is another entirely. Looks like major nepotism there, not to mention all the other shit it will stir up. So I repeat—get yourselves voted out. Got it?”

  “Got it,” I replied.

  Ellen nodded with satisfaction. “Good. Now, Liv, there’s something else I wanted to say.”

  Liv raised her brows. “Yeah?”

  “I know we haven’t been getting along well lately, and we haven’t exactly had much time to ourselves as mother and daughter over the last couple of months. I overestimated how much time we would have to hang out while we’re here. Even on non-filming days, I’m still busy with the crew, editing and splicing footage together. It’s hectic.”

  “Oh, I know, Mom. It’s fine,” Liv said lightly.

  Ellen shook her head. “No, it’s not. One of the ways I convinced you to help me out by being a fill-in contestant on the show was telling you that we’d be able to spend some time together. I haven’t lived up to that, and I’m sorry. So as soon as the show wraps, you and I are starting a tradition. Every month, we’ll have a catch-up day. Either I’ll fly to New York to visit you, or you can come stay for a weekend in Monterey with me. Whatever the case, we’ll be spending more time together as a family.”

  Liv nodded slowly. “Oh. That sounds good,” she said. I detected a guilty tone in her voice. I knew exactly why. She felt bad that her mother was seemingly trying to make an effort to have a stronger relationship with her (finally), and yet behind her back we were sneakily trying to win the show, which would probably mess up their relationship for quite some time due to the distrust it would breed. Not to mention the fact we were secretly together. Ellen was going to be pissed when she found out about all that, and that particular moment was heading toward us like a bullet train.

  She thrust the takeout coffee cup into Liv’s hands. “Drink this. You look terrible when you’re tired. I could park a car in the bags under your eyes.”

  Liv held the coffee tentatively. “Wow, thanks, Mom.”

  “Anyway, I better get back to the crew. We have a very long and boring meeting at nine.” Ellen rolled her eyes, then stepped away.

  Liv shook her head and turned to me. “Just when I think she’s starting to be nice, she insults my appearance. I can never win with her.”

  I gave her a thin smile. “I know. So do you think she’ll still be up for those monthly mother-daughter catch-ups when we win the show?”

  Liv shook her head. “No. I doubt she’ll talk to me for a long time. She’ll be pissed as hell.”

  “We can stop at any time if you’re not comfortable with this anymore,” I said softly. “We can get voted
out.”

  Liv’s gaze turned steely. “No. I want to do this. I want to win that prize money for your sister,” she declared. “Every time I start to feel bad for doing stuff behind Mom’s back, I just think about how she’s holding Amelia’s treatment money over your head, and I don’t feel bad anymore. I know she’s my mom, and she’s only human like the rest of us, but what she’s done is really awful. Your sister’s life is literally at stake, and she’s using her as a pawn to get what she wants. It’s sick.”

  “True.” I glanced over at Ellen, and I saw that she was looking over her shoulder at Liv and me. Her eyes were focused on the coffee cup she’d just handed Liv, and I gave her a smile and a wave. When she realized she’d been caught staring, she abruptly turned away, and I took the opportunity to snatch the coffee out of Liv’s hand and dump it in a nearby trash can.

  “Hey!” she protested. “What did you do that for?”

  I hesitated. Something terrible had just occurred to me, but I didn’t want to bring it up with Liv just yet. Not until I had a solid reason to believe it. Right now it was barely even a solid thought.

  “I just don’t think we should trust anything we didn’t see being prepared. Even coffee,” I said. “The vending machine coffee on the second floor is surprisingly good. I’ll grab you one of those.”

  Liv yawned. “I’ll go get it myself. I need to head back upstairs to shower and change anyway. I wore this T-shirt to sleep last night.”

  I nodded. While she was gone, I could take the chance to investigate my most recent suspicions.

  She trudged out of the room, and I looked back over at Ellen, wondering if what I’d just thought of could possibly be true. Surely not. But then again, it made a strange kind of sense. Over the last six days, Liv and I had wracked our brains to figure out who might be trying to make her sick. We’d never considered for a second that it might be her own mother, but right now, it was adding up. Ellen had made it clear that she didn’t want us on the show for too much longer, but she couldn’t force us off due to the official network contracts. So perhaps she’d been spiking some of Liv’s food and drinks in the hopes that Liv got sick. Not sick enough to be violently ill to the point of death, but sick enough so that she’d have to use the medical emergency clause in the contract to get out of being on the show.