My heart sinks into my stomach. “No… she wouldn’t. Not over this. That’s her dream job. Harley waited years to get it.”

  Danika shoots me a wicked grin. “She did. And Jonathan is furious. On her way to the airport, Harley handed Jonathan her letter of resignation. She’s moving back to LA and taking her old job until she finds something else. Apparently, she’s done with Queen Takes King. Another scandal is too much for her.”

  “Fuck,” I groan, hanging my head in shame. “What can I do to make this go away?”

  “I was hoping Harley would be here to challenge the claims made by your former fling, but her absence only makes this wedding look even more like a sham.”

  “Yeah, but it wasn’t,” I challenge. “I love Harley. She loves me. We got married under the wrong circumstances, but our relationship is real. Harley is my wife.”

  “The evidence is irrefutable, Nate. A quick side-by-side comparison of the girl in the pictures against Harley’s, and it wasn’t hard to tell that it was a lie. I have to say, I wasn’t expecting this. I thought we were in the clear when the real woman didn’t come forward right away.”

  “She wants something. I don’t know what, but Alexa Daniels has a plan, otherwise, why leak the pictures in the first place?”

  “Our legal team is looking into her background as we speak. As far as we know, she doesn’t own any QTK stock. So, it’s not like she had a financial motive.”

  “But maybe someone she knows does. Have our team look into her family, exes, friends, and acquaintances. She wouldn’t do this for sport.”

  Or would she? Alexa tortured Harley in high school for fun. There was no reasonable explanation for any of the shit she did to her.

  “In the meantime,” Danika says, rising from the chair, “I need you to come with me.” She gives me a once over, her lips pursed. “You look like shit, Little King. Were you drinking this morning?”

  My lack of response earns me an irritated sigh from Danika.

  She reaches into her purse and throws a Halls cough drop at me. “It’s time to face the music.”

  Twenty minutes later, I’m standing next to Danika in a press room on the tenth floor. Cameras and bright lights blind me. I blink a few times to clear my vision and consider my next words carefully. This is the problem with running a publicly-traded company. I’m obligated to do the right thing for our shareholders—our investors—because without them, we would be dead in the water right now.

  A reporter takes the microphone from Danika, a middle-aged brunette wearing a brown pantsuit. “Are the rumors true? Did you lie about your marriage to Harley McQueen?”

  “No, we’re legally married and have the witnesses to prove it. Harley is my wife.”

  Danika stands at my side for support and touches my sleeve to comfort me, which doesn’t help with all of the nervous energy shaking through my body. My heart feels as though it’s about to climb its way out of my chest at any moment.

  “But you married Harley to avoid a scandal, correct?”

  I shake my head and lie. “No, our wedding was planned. I’ve known Harley since we were kids.”

  To save Harley’s reputation, I have to make it look like I cheated on her with Alexa. I would rather look like an asshole than have both of us guilty of marriage fraud.

  The reporter looks confused. “So, you admit to cheating on your wife with Alexa Daniels before your wedding?”

  I look to Danika for confirmation, and she gives the nod of approval.

  “Yes, I cheated on my wife before we were married. I wish I could take back that night and all of the pain I have caused Harley.”

  “Where is your wife, Mr. King?”

  “On her way back to the Queen Takes King office in Los Angeles.”

  Another reporter grabs the microphone, a dark-haired man with severe frown lines. “Are you getting a divorce?”

  Not if I man up and finish the damn game.

  “No,” I say, unsure of my response.

  Harley might divorce me, or worse, have the marriage annulled. Fuck, I can’t let that happen. Whatever it takes, I have to get her back. Harley yelled at me this morning, but her immediate reaction is what scares me most. I thought we would at least talk this through, but, no, she made the decision to go back to LA without a second thought.

  Can I blame her?

  I’m actually proud of her for putting her foot down, not just with me but with her dad as well. At least one good thing came from her sacrifice. My girl learned how to stand up for herself.

  After I answer the same question with different wording a dozen times, I head back to my office. Terrence is playing with his cell phone when I fly past him and tries to hide it under his desk.

  “Cancel all of my meetings for the next week,” I tell him. “No calls. No visitors. I don’t want to see a single person anywhere near my office. I don’t care if it’s the goddamn mayor or the President of the United States, do you understand?”

  “Yes,” he chokes out.

  I slam my door shut and lock it behind me. If I’m going to prove myself to Harley, I need to focus. Project X needs a name. I consider the symbolism behind the game as I sit behind my desk, clicking the mouse until all five computer monitors come to life. Python is already open with the last line of code I wrote staring back at me.

  Harley has no idea how much work goes into coding a video game. It’s not like drawing a character on paper. Every command has to work in harmony, every sequence executed perfectly. For a player to perform even the most basic action, like jumping into the air, I have to give the computer several lines of instructions, so it knows what to do when the player at home hits the keys on the controller. Programming is just as much an art is it is a science.

  And for Harley, I’ll create a fucking masterpiece.

  * * *

  I stare at the monitor and sigh when I see the green circle next to Harley’s name online. She’s in her office in Los Angeles, and from the looks of it, working on something in Adobe Illustrator. After we got married, I had hoped I would never have to resort to stalking her again. But desperate times…

  We’re five days into our split, and I’m ready to lose my mind. My bed feels cold and empty without her by my side, and as the days pass, I find it even harder to concentrate. She said she wanted space, never said I couldn’t contact her. A phone call might go unanswered, considering how we left things, and Harley doesn’t care much for text messages. She usually reads them and responds whenever she feels like it.

  Opening the QTK Messenger app, I hover my mouse over her name. Hmmm… maybe I should write her an email instead. Even when she hated me, she always responded to my emails with a snarky comment or two.

  Dear Wife,

  I’m sorry. I miss you.

  Love,

  Nate

  Satisfied with the short and sweet message, I hit send. She doesn’t have to reply, but I want her to know that I’m thinking about her. That I spend every waking moment dreaming of her. Every line of code I’ve written this week has been for her. For us. For our future.

  Two days later…

  Dear Wife,

  I know I screwed up.

  But I need you, Harley.

  I need my Queen.

  Love always,

  Nate

  * * *

  Over the next week, I count the seconds, minutes, and hours as they pass. Harley still hasn’t answered my emails. So, I have no choice but to resort to stalking her on our servers. Twice an hour, I check to see if she’s online and what she’s working on, desperate to feel close to her again. What else can I do?

  Two nights ago, I got drunker than usual and broke down and dialed her number. Of course, I was greeted with miserable silence. Not even a text message to tell me to fuck off.

  Nothing.

  But.

  Silence.

  In my defense, I have cut down on the drinking. Harley made it perfectly clear while we were living together that I consume too much alcohol during and after working hours. I had planned to stay sober because I need a clear head to write code. It was one weak moment of stupidity. I was stuck on an action sequence, frustrated and tired after coding for seventeen hours straight, and needed to let off some steam.

  One week later…

  Dear Wife,

  Can I still call you that? I’m dying over here without you, Harley. I can’t eat. I can’t sleep. I need you. I will do anything to get you back. Please, don’t shut me out. Don’t give up on us. I love you more than anything, and I will do anything to make this up to you.

  Love,

  Nate

  * * *

  Days pass without a single word from Harley, and I’m growing more restless. When a new email dings on my computer, I minimize Python, sick of working on my game, and open the new message. It’s from Danika Kane.

  Hey Little King,

  I have some news about AD.

  Call me. Now.

  -DK

  It takes me a second to decipher the meaning of AD, and then it hits me—Alexa Daniels. Without a second thought, I remove my cell phone from my pocket and call Danika.

  “That was fast,” she says after the second ring.

  “What did you find out about Alexa?”

  “She was working with Carl Voss,” she says, and my eyes widen in shock. “Apparently, Mr. Family Values isn’t as wholesome as he made us believe. Alexa is Carl’s mistress. Can you believe that shit? He wanted to devalue the Queen Takes King stock so he could buy a larger number of shares than what your dad was willing to sell to him.”

  “That bastard,” I spit back, disgusted that Alexa and Carl used me to destroy my family’s legacy. “So, why did Alexa wait so long to tell the truth? Carl had the stock regardless. We needed his money to launch Ashborn and Master of Shadows.”

  “He wanted a seat on the Queen Takes King board so he could influence the rest of the members and eventually have your father removed as CEO.”

  “What the fuck?” I shake my head, disgusted by the news. “That asshole set me up to destroy my dad. I can’t—”

  “Don’t beat yourself up, Little King. Your dad is still CEO. Whatever Carl was planning has now been exposed. Your father is calling an emergency board meeting to have Carl removed for his behavior.”

  “I lost Harley over this shit,” I shout, not meaning to take out my anger on Danika.

  “You got her back because of it,” she reminds me. “Without the scandal, Harley wouldn’t have stepped foot in HQ, and you know it. Not unless her dad had a damn good reason to summon her to Philly.”

  “What’s our next move?”

  “You should receive an email soon with the time for the emergency board meeting. Alexa’s relationship was just exposed to every news outlet, thanks to your friend Callie Bloom. I like that girl. She has fire in her veins and ice in her heart. Check The Gossip Queen website and see for yourself. You and Harley are lucky to have Callie on your side.”

  I laugh at her comment. “You have no idea.”

  “Alexa is out of a sugar daddy, and from what I hear, Carl and his wife are getting a divorce. And you still got the girl, Little King. Would you look at that?”

  “Harley is in LA and not even answering my emails.”

  “She will eventually. If she wanted to ditch your ass, she would have filed the annulment already.”

  “You have such a way with words, Danika. Did I ever tell you that?”

  She chuckles. “Save it, kid. Your dad pays me by the hour, and unless you have something else you need to discuss, I have to run.”

  “Thanks, Danika.”

  “Anytime.”

  * * *

  Five days after the news about Carl Voss breaks and he’s removed from the Queen Takes King board, I’m still waiting on a response from Harley. I even sent her the link to The Gossip Queen site, thinking she would be happy about the news and at least write one line to indulge me. Nope, I got nada from Harley.

  So, here I am, once again writing an email to myself, basically. What else do you call it? Harley has opened and read my messages. She’s well aware of my stalkerish ways and knows I will check. I know she still cares, so I write something from the heart, short and to the point.

  Dear Wife,

  I’m lost. Help me find my way. I love you.

  - Nate

  An hour later, after weeks of waiting, she finally replies, which gives me hope.

  Be my knight, Sir Nathan. Finish your quest, and The Holy Grail is yours.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Harley

  After a month back in my old job, I’m bored, annoyed, and wishing I hadn’t resigned as Lead Creative Director. That was a bold but stupid move. My position in Los Angeles is far from glamorous, and now that we’re in the post-launch phase for Ashborn, I work more hours than I sleep. I have to sit on conference calls with the marketing teams, listening to them whine about the bad reviews from customers. Like I can do anything about it. We’re all struggling to salvage this game so we can get our investors off our backs.

  Nate created the initial idea for Ashborn, but whatever Stefan added afterward is not sitting well with our customers. This game has been nothing but a headache, and with Nate refusing to speak to anyone in the office, his team is struggling to get by. I know it’s because of me. Nate is probably locked in his office, coding for hours on end. When he’s in the creative zone, he gets nasty if anyone interrupts him. I feel bad for everyone who has to deal with him since I left.

  My desk phone beeps and Connie’s flowery voice comes through the intercom. “Mrs. King,” she says, and I shudder at my new last name. “I have Mr. King on the phone for you.”

  “Tell Nate to finish his quest. He’ll know what that means.”

  “Stefan King,” she corrects.

  What does he want?

  I let out a frustrated groan and shove my keyboard back into place. “Patch him through.”

  “Hey, Stef,” I say. “What’s up?”

  He blows a deep breath into the phone. “I need to talk to you about Nate.”

  “Is he okay?”

  “Yeah… I guess. Define okay,” he deadpans. “He hasn’t been himself since you left. Everything is falling apart over here, and now he’s refusing to come into the office. He’s not taking any of our calls. His doorman won’t let anyone up to the penthouse.”

  “He’s not coming into work?”

  “No. About a week ago he took off and hasn’t come back since. He hasn’t said a word to anyone, not even Parker. We’re all worried about him. His team needs him.”

  “What do you want me to do?”

  “Talk to him,” he groans. “Please. You’re the only person who can get through to him.”

  “What do you want me to tell him?”

  “We need him to call us back at the very least. He can’t just go fuck off whenever he wants because he’s messed up over your breakup.”

  “We’re not broken up.”

  “You’re not?” Stefan sounds confused. “Then, what the fuck is his problem?”

  “If he doesn’t finish Project X in one month, I’m getting an annulment.”

  “Fuck,” he grunts. “Could you have picked a better time to give him an ultimatum?”

  “Are you kidding me right now? Let’s not forget that you knew about everything before I got back to Philly. All of you were in on the plan to force me to marry Nate.”

  “It wasn’t like that,” he challenges. “Nate and I had nothing to do with that. It was our dads. They cooked that plan up with Danika, and we just went along with it. Don’t blame us for what they did. And you willingly married my brother. I was the best man at your wedding. It’s not like anyone dragged you down the aisle.”

  “I don’t know what you want me to say, Stefan. This conversation isn’t exactly making me want to help you out. Tell you what—I’ll message Nate for you, and in return, I want you to promise me that Nate won’t fail. He has to finish this game.”

  “Why is this game so important? We have other fires to put out right now. Couldn’t this wait?”

  “No, Stefan, it can’t wait. Nate needs a working beta by the 10X Games Convention.”

  “That’s not possible,” he counters. “Do you have any idea how long it takes to code a video game?”

  “Nate has done it before,” I point out. “And if he wants me back, he will find a way to do it again.”

  “Shit,” he sighs. “Well, I guess I don’t have much of a choice then. Get him to call me, and then I’ll take care of the rest. You’ll have your beta in time for the convention.”

  After we hang up, my heart is beating so fast it feels like someone shoved their hand into my chest and ripped it out. I have to message Nate. If his team can’t get ahold of him, then the already disastrous launch of Ashborn will only get worse. Nate’s coders need him as much as he needs them to finish Project X on time.

  I open the QTK Messenger app and see that Nate is signed on. Why even bother staying logged into the system if he’s going to ignore everyone’s messages?

  Harley King: Call Stefan. Your team needs you.

  A chat bubble appears on the screen almost instantaneously.

  Nathan King: I’m busy with Project X.

  Harley King: A knight doesn’t run away from his responsibilities.

  Nathan King: I miss you. How are you?

  Harley King: Good. Please call him. For me. This is important.

  Nathan King: Anything for my Queen.