Page 75 of Morally Black Betrothal

“She just sent them a tip,” I told him. “Nothing to it.”

Liam had already pulled it up on his phone. “‘The winds of change are blowing at Blackguard, and rumor has it, they are blowing the way of eldest son, Brendan Black. With the announcement of his nuptials to local do-gooder Simone Bishop, Black seemed primed to take over his father’s position as the heir of the world’s largest holding company while the rest of his siblings remain playboy spares.’” He looked up. “That’s honestly kind of poetic.”

I chuckled, though all three of my siblings’ expressions had turned the color of our name.

“What?” I asked. “What did you think I was going to do after getting engaged?”

“You’re not telling us that this little ‘marriage’ you’re planning was all for show, are you?” Shea asked. “Oh my God, my friends will besorelieved.”

“If they’re interested in gold digging, you can tell them I have a twenty-four-karat cock ring that’s just waiting to be found,” Ronan told her.

Shea made a face. “They want the king, asshole, not the jester.”

“It’s a real engagement,” I insisted. “But I’d be an idiot if I didn’t use it to my advantage.”

Liza couldn’tquitehide her approval.

Liam looked doubtful.

Shea appeared completely confused.

I focused everything I had on keeping my face perfectly bland.

Owen seethed. “Playboy spares?”

Ronan snorted. “If the shoe fits.”

I held my hands up. “I didn’t tell them to say that. You have a problem, take it up with the editor. Or the writer.”

“Gossiping hack. Ivy Ink is theworst,” Owen muttered. “You could have at least consulted with us first. You make us sound like your lackeys.”

“Speak for yourself, Mr. COO,” Shea asked sweetly.

Owen looked like he wanted to smack her.

I shrugged. No, I wasn’t quoted using that term, but I may have suggested it to Ruth and the publicist who drafted the tip. The more disposable my siblings looked, the more essential I seemed.

Was it kind?

No.

Effective?

Probably.

But succession was always going to be a bloodbath.

Because, despite my fears only moments before, the Blacks weren’t a family of guppies.

We were sharks, all of us.

I’d just shown my teeth first.

Ronan took the opportunity to pounce in a way only Ronan could. “So, what, is she knocked up? Is that it?”

“Ronan…” Liza muttered as she shook her head.

“She is not,” I snapped. “And I’ll thank you to keepthatslanderous shit to yourself.”