Page 86 of Morally Black Betrothal

But he couldn’t kiss me again the way he’d done twice now. Even if the contract said it was allowed.

“Mom would be so happy for you. You know that, right?”

“Oh.” Another pang of guilt thrummed through my stomach. “Right.”

“And he’s a literal billionaire? Simmy, you’re finally going to get your bakery. Or, you know, hire someone to do it for you. Oh my God, we’ll never have to worry about money again!”

It was disturbing how quickly she went from “you” to “we.” I wasn’t exactly surprised. But it didn’t mean I liked it.

“You know…it’s a family business.” I didn’t want Selena to get any ideas. “Brendan’s not as wealthy as it might seem. It’s his dad who holds the purse strings.”

Maybe that was true. I almost hoped it was.

No such luck.

“You’re wrong about that.” She was already back on her phone. “I mean, yeah, Niall Black is one fat cat, but all his kids are loaded. Looks like your boy has at least five billion of his very own.”

I choked. “Fivewhat?” I turned back to the mirror before Selena could see the nausea sweep across my face.

“Yep, according to Google.” When she caught my eye in the reflection, there were dollar signs blazing in hers. “Whatever you asked for in the prenup wasn’t enough.”

“I told you, it’s not about money.”

It was entirely about money.

It also made sense now why Brendan was so concerned with security. He was the extremely wealthy son of one of the richest men on the planet, an obvious target for all sorts of ne’er-do-wells.

The urge to be alone with my thoughts overwhelmed me. Unfortunately, I wasn’t going to have the space to process, since my sister had wedged herself in front of me, her arms crossed, her feet planted, waiting.

Finally, it dawned on me what she was waiting for.

“Look, Sel, I didn’t ask for a big prenup.”

I wasn’t about to tell my sister just how much money I had negotiated from Brendan. Her face was next to the Urban Dictionary’s entry for “give them an inch, they take a mile.”

But I could relieve her immediate stress. “I did, however, ask for enough to cover your situation with the Huntingtons, remember? And I’m going to cover your rent here until you get back on your feet and pay for school and a nanny for Kylie if you need it.”

Her mouth dropped. “You’ll cover your niece but not your own sister?”

“My niece is not an adult fully capable of getting a job and taking care of herself.”

“But—”

“No,” I cut her off quickly. In the back of my mind, I saw Brendan nodding with approval, almost as if he were sending me advice on how to invoke my own dark persona when the need arose. “I’m giving you enough to get out of a sticky situation, but you need to figure out your life, and that doesn’t mean by mooching off my fiancé. Just because I agreed to marry Brendan doesn’t mean he’s giving me a ton of money.”

“Not yet.”

“Not ever,” I snapped back. “I’m not going to take his money.”

The lies were flowing freely now, the words silkier than the dress I was holding.

“Anyway, you’re going to have my apartment to yourself, remember?” I said. “Stay away from the Huntingtons, try to find a real job, and I’ll figure out some childcare while I’m gone, okay?”

Her jaw worked a moment while she processed. Eventually, though, she landed on her original complaint.

My sister was nothing if not persistent.

“I still can’t believe you didn’t tell me anything at all. It’s like I don’t even know who you are anymore.”