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TWENTY-ONE

KENJI

After the tumultuous night, I slept in later than usual. But when I woke up, I felt like I’d stepped into a goddamned Julie Andrews movie. The hills were alive, and I might as well have had clothes made out of curtains for how joyful I felt.

“Oh dear god,” Cora groaned when I swept into the kitchen and called out a cheery good morning. She dropped her head on the arms she had bent on the table. “He’s one of those . Can we call a quorum to have him booted from the family?”

Nan looked up, amused. “Good morning, Kenji. Landry wanted me to remind you he had an early morning meeting at Downing Street. He said to let you have a lie-in, and I’m happy to see you got it.”

I remembered Teddy’s breakfast meeting—a chance to introduce Landry to a few key MPs. While I was disappointed not to see him, I understood this was his job now.

If he wanted it to be , a voice in my head whispered.

I’d meant what I told him last night. Whether to be considered for Parliament or not was his choice, and if this was what he wanted, I’d stand beside him and help make it happen. I still worried that he wouldn’t be happy in politics—he’d been a tight ball of stress beneath his polished charm last night—but maybe the satisfaction of continuing his family legacy was enough to balance that out.

I wouldn’t push him either way, but hopefully, now that things between us were finally, beautifully settled, we could talk about it more.

In the meantime, I had my own work to catch up on. It had been far too long since I’d checked in, and I had a Zoom meeting with my assistant later this morning. Time to start reclaiming some of my responsibilities.

“I feel refreshed and revitalized,” I told Nan belatedly. “Thank you. It helped that I drank half a gallon of water in the middle of the night.”

Lydia swept into the room, rustling like an expensive curtain. “Sit up straight, Cora, dear. You look like you’re playing a bit part in a teen drama.” She pulled out a thick, leather date book. “I’ve been poring over our invitations after last night, strategizing based on Lord Twetts’s keen attentions to you. We’ll definitely attend the Kingsleys’ dinner party, and I think we’ll have to at least pop in at the Willow and Ink fundraiser…”

Cora let Lydia prattle on while the rest of us focused on breakfast. Ed happily sipped his tea behind the paper, and I wondered whether Jamie had actually spent the night with Cora or not. I glanced around but didn’t see evidence of him.

Finally, I nudged Cora with my toe and gave her interrogation eyebrows.

She squinted in confusion.

I widened my eyes and tilted my head toward the foyer—Jamie’s most likely escape route, assuming he knew how to operate the damn locks better than I did.

Cora’s hungover brain seemed to struggle.

“ Booty call ,” I coughed.

Her eyes widened, and her cheeks darkened. I tilted my head and blinked in silent demand.

She rolled her eyes and gave a slight nod before slumping over her coffee mug. “Mum, you have to stop. I’m not interested in Lord Twat. I mean Twetts. There is zero chance of a Davencourt-Twetts alliance. Please cease and desist.”

Feigning ignorance, I mused, “I think it would be better if Cora made an alliance outside the nobility. But they should still be wealthy and powerful, of course. It wouldn’t do to— oof .”

The back of her heel connected with the front of my shin. Thankfully, she was still wearing house slippers.

She stuck out her tongue, and I fought a laugh, feeling lighter and happier than I had in weeks.

Which, of course, was the exact moment Nan sucked in a breath, eyes riveted to her tablet, and muttered, “Oh, bloody hell.”

Cora and I scrambled around to read over her shoulder. As soon as Lydia realized what was going on, she pulled out her own phone to find out what was happening.

The headlines popped up one after the other in a series of real-time gut-punches.

’Til Scandal Do Us Part! Davencourt Marriage a Complete Fabrication?

Lords, Lies, and Lovers—Fellow Hostage Reveals Viscount Hawling’s Faux Marriage!

From ‘I Do’ to ‘I Duped You’—Viscount’s Fake Marriage Exposed!

Parliament Rocked by Wedding Hoax

I stared at the screen until the words swam on the page and my pulse pounded in my ears. How did they know? How had we given ourselves away? What was Landry going to?—?

“Who’s Lindsey Graves?” Lydia asked.

It took a moment for the name to penetrate the blaring panic in my brain.

“Lindsey? She’s a—” Gossipy influencer , I thought before remembering she’d been held in San Cordova several days longer than I had. I tempered my response. “She’s a woman I met at the retreat in San Cordova. Another of the hostages. Why? What does she have to do with this?”

Lydia turned her phone toward us. In the video on-screen, a bare-faced Lindsey huddled in an overstuffed armchair, looking like the world’s bravest little toaster.

“It was awful ,” she said meekly. “I was held for days with barely any food or water. We were only allowed to use the bathroom three times a day.” Her eyes welled up. “And I didn’t even have my phone . I kept wondering why some people got to leave, but the rest of us were just forgotten.” She sniffled. “For, like, days .”

A man’s voice off-camera prompted, “You’re referring to the hostages with health conditions, who were released as an act of good faith?”

“Not just them.” Lindsey’s eyes widened with innocent outrage. “Two men were rescued the second night . Kenji and Jamie.”

“You mean James Winthrop, an American ex-pat living in London, and Kenji Toma, husband of supermodel Landry Davis, who’s recently been revealed to be Viscount Hawling—” the off-camera voice clarified.

“Except they’re not married.” Lindsey’s eyes flashed, and her cheeks flushed. “Kenji was flirty and chatty with me from the very beginning. And he specifically told me he and Landry weren’t romantically involved at all —that he was just a personal assistant who helps with Landry’s public relations .” She helpfully provided air quotes. “In fact, he said he’d do anything for his employer, including crisis management!”

With an indignant lift of her chin, she went on. “Has anyone actually seen a marriage certificate? Because I wouldn’t be surprised if this whole marriage thing was a stunt to distract from the fact that Landry rescued his freaking PA while the rest of us suffered .” She sniffed delicately. “Not a good look for someone in his position, is it?”

No , I thought as Lydia stopped the video. No, it wasn’t.

The room was silent, but I felt the weight of every gaze on me.

I shut my eyes and swallowed hard against the nausea creeping up my throat. My whole body had gone ice-cold.

Last night, Landry and I had fixed everything. We’d laid our cards on the table so we could build a future together. One where Landry could openly claim his proud family legacy.

Now, my hasty words had put Landry’s reputation and political career in jeopardy.

“My fault,” I whispered. My voice sounded distant, hollow. “All of this is my fault.”

Somewhere in the house, a doorbell rang.

Nan turned to face me. “Don’t panic. We’re going to fix this.” Her words were a statement of confidence.

“How?” I blurted. “How, when her accusations are true?” If anyone scratched the surface or demanded details, they’d learn the truth. No crisis management team could spin it away.

Before I could process that thought further, Jamie Winthrop strolled into the kitchen carrying a stack of bakery boxes tied with twine.

“Good morning everyone. Thought I’d bring you all a treat to thank you for a lovely evening last—” He stopped short, reading the room. “What’s wrong?”

Shit.

I suddenly remembered there was another person from San Cordova who might be able to confirm Lindsey’s statement. Jamie had gone along with the marriage thing and didn’t seem the type to spill a secret maliciously, but if asked a direct question, what would he say?

Cora stood to help him with the boxes while I scrambled to figure out the most polite way to request someone not throw my fake husband under the bus.

“Oh, nothing.” I forced a smile. My voice couldn’t have sounded normal. “Just a regular day filled with ridiculous headlines. What did you bring? Croissants?”

Nan stood to refill her coffee. “Let’s move to my office, Kenji, and call in the team.”

I ran a hand through my hair. “I… I should get our attorneys on the line, figure out a way to make this woman stand down?—”

“What woman?” Jamie looked between us. “Did I come at a bad time?”

Cora sighed. “Another of the hostages from the retreat, Lindsey Someone, is upset that you and Kenji were freed before she was. Now, she’s claiming Landry and Kenji aren’t married, which is?—”

“True,” I said flatly.

Silence fell. I met Jamie’s eyes. “As I believe I told you in a drunken conversation where I listed all the reasons Landry and I could never be together.”

Jamie tilted his head, considering. Then, he smiled. “Funny, that’s not how I recall that conversation going.”

“P-pardon?” I stared at him.

He shrugged. “You’d had quite a bit to drink, so maybe you don’t remember the details. But I recall you spending ten full minutes telling me you were madly in love with the man.”

Cora grinned at him like a lovesick fool.

“I…” My throat tightened. I scrambled to recall that afternoon. “Did I?”

“Oh, yes.” Jamie grinned. “That’s why I was so surprised when you denied being engaged when we met with my father the other day… and not at all surprised when you announced you were married.”

“But—” I began.

“When my other friends tell me they are married, I don’t demand paperwork. I believe them. And I know what two people in love look like.” His sharp gaze pinned mine. “Which is exactly what I’ll tell anyone who asks. Assuming, of course, that you want it to be the truth?”

Yes. God yes. All the yes.

Nan, ever the voice of reason, was more measured. “That’s for Kenji to decide.”

“Me?” I squeaked. “Landry’s the one with a reputation on the line!”

Everyone in the room snickered, but it was Ed who spoke.

“Oh, Kenji. My son’s talked about you for ten years?—”

“Talked about?” Cora snorted. “You mean gushed . We didn’t know it was a romantic thing until this visit, but he acted like you hung the damn stars.”

“He once spent twenty full minutes explaining why Excel was better than Google Sheets,” Nan volunteered. “And when I finally asked him why he was acting so belligerent, he threw up his hands and said, ‘Because Kenji prefers Excel, and he’s one of the smartest people I know.’”

“Three years ago,” Cora put in, “he showed up here all in knots, muttering your name under his breath. We knew about the hotel incident with Zane and figured it had to do with that since you’re the one who handled his bail.” She rolled her eyes. “I asked if he was upset because you’d lectured him, and he immediately went off about how you weren’t an unreasonable person and that if you were angry, it was for good reason.”

Heat crawled up my neck. I remembered the night of that arrest. More specifically, I remembered how that “lecture” and the simmering anger I’d carried for him leading up to it had exploded into our first off-the-charts-hot sexual encounter.

“I did wonder why such a responsible lad had begun getting into so many scrapes he needed his assistant to get him out of.” Nan shot me an innocent look over her tea mug. “Can you think of a reason, Kenji?”

Cora snickered.

“And just a week or so ago,” Jamie added, not to be outdone, “Landry agreed to play fake boyfriends with me to give you your freedom and privacy back. Considering we were rivals up ’til then, that’s a hell of a sacrifice.”

The next volley came from an unexpected source.

Lydia circled the table and reached for my hand, running a manicured thumb over the top of my wedding ring.

“Everett was here in December,” she said lightly, “before he went to Majestic for the holidays. He asked for my help in getting this ring resized safely since it has such historic significance. I’d hoped it was for Harriet Salvant since she’s a lovely girl from such a good family?—”

Cora rolled her eyes. “Mom. Landry’s gay. He’s not a politician who switches parties based on who’s funding his campaign.”

Lydia waved a hand dismissively. “There is such a thing as bisexual, darling, in case you haven’t met your friend Jamie here?—”

I barely heard their banter. I stared at the ring on my finger.

Landry had gotten it resized in December ?

“Anyway, Kenji.” Lydia squeezed my hand. “I apologize if I was frosty to you at first. I rather thought Everett had gotten mixed up in a scheme running counter to his best interests. Er, I mean, his heart. But even I figured out your relationship was real, even if your havey-cavey marriage wasn’t. And there’s no question Everett has true feelings for you if he gave you the Heart of Hawling.”

I frowned. “The… fundraiser?”

Cora laughed and pointed at my finger. “The Heart of Hawling is the ring , silly. It’s probably the most important heirloom the Davencourts have. Wordsworth even referred to it in one of his poems. And the family legend surrounding it is where the fundraiser got its name.”

Overwhelmed, I stared down at it, instinctively curling my fingers to prevent it from slipping off, though it fit perfectly. “That’s… that’s…”

“A sign Everett wants your marriage to be real.” Ed spoke with all the authority of the fifteenth Earl of Davencourt. It was impossible not to believe him.

He leaned back, casually plucking a piece of lint off his sleeve. “You know, Kenji, the Double Bishop Sacrifice was first played in Amsterdam in 1889. I’ve been reading up on it since our game the other day.”

Cora, Nan, and I exchanged glances, waiting to see where this went.

Ed smiled, humor and steel clashing in those eyes that reminded me so much of his son’s. “Any man who pulls that move against his father-in-law—real or imagined—in his very first match is someone who doesn’t know fear. I have no doubt whatsoever that you’ll sort this. You and Everett. And we’ll do whatever it takes to help.”

I blew out a shaky breath. “Thank you. Thank you all so much. But Landry and I didn’t actually get married in Majestic over Christmas, as much as I wish we had. Even if Jamie corroborates our story, it’s only a matter of time before someone looks for a marriage certificate. You can’t just invent a wedding. You need witnesses, a license, a marriage certificate signed by a?—”

I froze.

I did know a justice of the peace in Majestic, not to mention a small-town sheriff who owed me a favor and four upstanding citizens, plus their spouses and friends, who’d make unimpeachable witnesses. I was sure they’d agree if it meant helping Landry.

If I was being honest, I knew they’d do it for me, too.

“I’ve got to go,” I blurted, dropping a kiss on Ed’s cheek. “I need to fly home.”

“Home?” Nan stood. “Kenji, let the crisis management team?—”

I shook my head. “Not now. I’ll explain it all later, but I need to set things in motion myself first.” I grabbed her hand and squeezed lightly. “Let me do this for him, please,” I begged softly. “It’s what I’m good at.”

“But don’t you want to wait for Landry? Troubles are lighter if you carry them together,” she urged.

“I know. And we will.” I hugged her before stepping back. “I’m counting on it.”

I grabbed my passport, laptop, and coat and was already at the door before I remembered something crucial.

“Someone needs to warn Landry what’s happening before he leaves Downing Street.” I met Cora’s eyes. “His phone will be shut off, and I’m afraid he’s going to walk out into a paparazzi firestorm. Tell him not to say anything.”

Her brow furrowed, but she nodded.

On the way to the airport, my heart ached with thoughts of Landry. He didn’t deserve the barrage of media inquiries this was going to bring and the potential derailment of his burgeoning political career. I shot him a quick text, knowing it might be hours before he was able to check his messages.

I’m so sorry. I’ll fix this. Come home as soon as you can.

It wasn’t until I was in the Brotherhood’s plane, winging my way west, that I looked down at the burnished gold ring on my finger.

Landry had told me a sentimental story about it but not its name. Not its full significance.

For the first time since he’d given it to me, I slid it off and examined it.

The three thin bands shifted apart, separating the two clasped hands and revealing a hammered metal heart nestled safely inside.

Along the inside edge of one of the bands was an inscription.

My beloved.

My breath caught. Landry had sized this ring for me back in December. When I’d still been trying to fortify the wall around my heart, he’d been determined to give me his.

Any lingering doubts about my plan melted away as I slid the ring back on my finger.

My husband needed my help.

And I couldn’t fix this alone.

I set up my laptop and placed a video call to the Brotherhood.

When the first call connected, Bash squinted at his phone. He was shirtless and sleepy-eyed. “Why are you calling so early?” He squinted harder. “Are you on the plane?”

“Yeah. I need you to wake everyone up and put me on the big screen for a strategy meeting. And ask Way to get the sheriff there, too.”

“Foster? What for?” He rubbed his cheek and yawned. “Where’s Landry?”

“Back in England. He’s okay, just… in the middle of something. Gather everyone, please.”

Bash nodded immediately, used to following my lead, only hesitating when his husband’s curly mop entered the frame.

“You guys okay?” Rowe asked, voice still thick with sleep.

I nodded. “We will be.”

I disconnected so they could get some caffeine and regroup.

Fifteen minutes later, they called me back.

In that short time, the Brotherhood—apart from Landry—had all gathered around Dev and Tully’s big table in their pajamas and sweats. Even Lellie was there, curled up in Dev’s lap with her chubby hand clutching the faded equestrian logo of his old hoodie.

Seeing everyone there made my heart swell with warmth, as if love itself had gathered in that room. I couldn’t wait to join them in person once this was handled.

Silas set two mugs in front of Way, leaned over to kiss his husband’s head, and looked at the screen. “What’s going on? And how are you video calling us mid-flight?”

Ryan cuddled a sleepy Zane on his lap. “Upgraded Wi-Fi on the plane. Remember Landry throwing a shit-fit after San Cordova?”

Everyone nodded and took sips of coffee. Tully walked in and handed a cup of milk to Lellie before taking the seat next to Dev.

“Is Foster coming?” I asked.

Way nodded. “He said the favor he owes you isn’t a ‘six-in-the-morning’ level favor. I said if he needed extra favor credit, he could dip into all the shit he owes me after I had to listen to him cry over a straight boy last week.”

Foster Blake was a good man. He might grumble and give his cousin a hard time about getting up early, but the truth was the sheriff had probably already been at work for hours.

“We have a problem, guys. Landry needs his brothers, and I…” I swallowed and took a chance. “I need my friends.”

Slow grins spread around the table, but it was Dev who spoke first. “Took you long enough to call us that, fucker.”

Zane nodded emphatically. “No kidding. All this ‘I’m just an employee’ stuff was getting old.”

Silas sat forward. “We’re here for you both, you know that. So… what’s the plan, boss?”

My laugh came out shaky with nerves and relief. “Well…” I began. Then, I laid it out for them.

When I was done, Bash fixed me with an uncompromising stare. “This plan is absolutely insane, and I’m here for it.” He grinned. “We’ll make it happen, Kenji.”

I really hoped he was right.

As executive assistant to five billionaires, I’d orchestrated countless impossible fixes.

But making this right for the man I loved… might be the biggest one yet.