Page 174 of Morally Black Betrothal

I opened my mouth. “Actually, I need to tell you?—”

The sound of the elevator chime interrupted me. We both turned toward the bell.

“Are you expecting someone?” Simone asked. “I thought Rosie only comes in the evenings.”

“She does, yeah.” A knot tightened in my stomach. I didn’t know how I knew it was bad news, but I did.

“Brendan? Brendan, where the fuck are you?”

“Shit,” I cursed softly.

“Is that Owen?”

It was. Several angry footsteps later, my brother appeared in the kitchen with a face full of thunder. “You son of a bitch.”

Immediately, I stood, positioning myself between him and Simone. “Good morning to you too. To what do we owe the pleasure?”

“The pleasure?” He laughed, a strange sound devoid of humor. “I just found out you sold the whole project out from under me. Not just the bad properties. The whole fucking thing. Two years of my life, and you handed it over to those Huntington pricks like it was nothing.”

Shit. I’d been so worried about what Simone was going to think of selling her farm that I’d completely forgotten to plan for when Owen found out I torched his entire venture.

“Owen, I can explain?—”

“Explainwhat? How you and Liza decided my entire goddamn division was expendable? How you gutted everything I have added to this company to prove yourself to the board? It’s all fucking gone because of you!”

“What’s happening?” Simone had stepped away from the island, flour still coating her hands.

Owen shoved a finger into my chest. “I’ll tell you what’s happening, Goldilocks. Your so-called boyfriend here dismantled everything I care about. Sold a bunch of our assets to the goddamned Huntingtons and shut down my entire department just to make himself look good.”

“It’s just business.” I was surprised how wooden my voice sounded now that I’d relocated it. “You know how this goes. Dad will throw you another bone to play with, another venture to prove yourself, and if he doesn’t, I will. You’ve already been promoted to interim COO. I have to make the hard decisions, and this was one of them. What else do you want from me?”

“I want what I was good at, asshole! I want to know that my life’s work isn’t going down the toilet for a nice piece of ass.”

Simone’s eyes grew wide. “Me? What do I have to do with this?”

“Owen, don’t,” I warned through my teeth.

“Don’t what? Tell her the truth about your little deal with Huntington?” Owen’s gaze swung to Simone. He looked crazed, halfway between shouting and laughing. “You want to know what’s really happening, honey? Your boyfriend here is a lying piece of shit who sold your family’s farm to the highest bidder.”

Simone went perfectly still, her face draining of color. “What?”

“Owen, don’t do this,” I warned, but it was too late.

“Dandelion Farm.” Owen’s voice cold and precise. “Brendan brokered the sale to the Huntington Group weeks ago. While you were falling in love with him, he was busy destroying everything you care about.”

“It’s not totally like that,” I tried to tell her. “It’s a lot more complicated—originally, I was able to exclude them from the sale, but then Kylie?—”

“Brendan.” That sky-blue optimism had disappeared, and something fundamental tore inside my chest.

“Simone,” I tried again. “Listen?—”

“Is it true?” Her voice creaked with pain.

I could have lied. Could have blamed Owen, called him crazy, bought myself time to explain. Instead, I looked at the woman I loved more than my own life and watched her world crumble.

“It was for Kylie,” I said finally. “It was the condition of her release. But…yes. I had to sell the mortgage to Huntington.”

She shook her head. “I don’t understand. The farm. It’s still there. No one has said anything to us about it.”