Page 12 of My Horrible Arranged Marriage (Bancroft Billionaire Brothers #20)

ISAAC

I honestly thought she was going to tell me there was nothing wrong. Everything was fine. What I thought I heard wasn’t there.

She had this distant, guarded sort of thing that made me think she was about to shut down and tell me she had a headache or needed to wash her hair. Anything but actually sit here beside me on a curb in a random-ass parking lot behind someone else’s wedding, with a stolen bottle of wine between us.

“My dad’s been walking on eggshells around me ever since I called off the wedding.”

Wedding ?

I blinked. “Wait—you were engaged?”

“Yep.” She took another drink of wine. “My dad has been treating me like I’m a bomb about to detonate at any second since the engagement blew up.”

“I had no idea,” I said. “Want to tell me what happened? If not, that’s cool.”

She let out a long sigh. “I’m surprised you haven’t heard about it. It was some pretty juicy gossip.”

“I don’t pay attention to a lot of gossip.” I shrugged.

“Sampson was screwing one of my bridesmaids behind my back for over a year,” she said.

“Sampson? The fiancé?”

“Yep. My fiancé.”

“Damn,” I said. “One of your bridesmaids?”

“Yep. A whole damn year. That bitch was actually going to stand up in my fucking wedding ceremony. She was going to watch me marry the guy with the taste of his dick in her mouth. He was going to say his vows in front of his little fuck buddy.”

She’s drunk. Her F-bombs say so.

“Whores,” I said. “What are you going to do with them?”

That surprised a laugh out of her, small but real. “God, you’re not subtle.”

“Not trying to be.” I looked at her. “That’s seriously messed up.”

“Yeah. Tell me about it.”

She took the bottle, tipped it back, and winced slightly as she swallowed.

“So what happened?” I asked. “You caught him?”

She nodded. “Found messages on his iPad one night. I confronted him, and he denied it for like ten seconds before blaming me for not ‘being present enough’ in the relationship. Classic, right?”

“Asshole,” I muttered.

“Worse, I didn’t realize it was her ,” she said.

“The person he was messaging went by C. Just C. It didn’t mean anything.

I just assumed it meant cunt. And then…” She paused and took a deep breath.

I waited while she collected herself. “And then a picture came through. Tits. Big ol’ fake knockers. I knew those boobs.”

I frowned. I wasn’t sure what to think about that. “That’s quite a skill.”

She rolled her eyes. “Not the boobs, but the tiny little tattoo on the left boob.”

I shook my head and grinned. “A tattling titty tattoo. Do tell.”

“I was with Cara when she got that tattoo,” she said. “C. Cara. Cold-blooded. My very good friend. We had known each other for ten years. Ten years and that bitch stabbed me in the back for some mediocre dick.”

“Damn,” I said, grunting. “That’s brutal.”

Mina nodded, her eyes fixed on the bottle of wine in her hands. “Yeah. It gives a woman trust issues.”

“Did you confront her?” I asked.

“I tried.”

“Did you kick her ass?” I teased.

“No, but I wish I would have.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “That is really tough.”

“Then I went to my dad and told him everything. I told him Sampson was a liar, a cheat, and a fraud. I told him I wanted to call it off.”

I stayed quiet.

“And he said I should call it off,” she said. “He wanted me to end things but to keep the reason private. Protect Sampson’s reputation. Said if it got out, I’d be dragged through the mud too.”

I clenched my jaw. “So your dad thought the best move was to have you quietly disappear from your own story? Just let the narrative be whatever made Sampson look good?”

“He said it was to protect me.” Her voice had softened. I could hear the pain. “And I think part of him meant that. But…”

“He made you carry all this shame to protect someone who wasn’t even his blood,” I said. “That’s not protection, that’s PR.”

She looked at me. Her eyes searched mine like she was trying to figure out if I actually got it or if I was just another guy talking shit to get laid.

I held her gaze. “That’s a really shitty position to be in. I’m sorry. I know what it’s like when your family cares more about appearances than right and wrong.”

She seemed to relax a little. Like I passed her test.

“Fuck Sampson,” I added. “Seriously. That guy sucks. I swear he must have eaten paint chips as a kid.”

She smiled a little. “I think his nanny dropped him on his head.”

“You’re better off without him. And guys like that never stay on top for long. Karma always circles back. You’re going to get the opportunity to sit back and watch it all burn to the ground.”

She gave a soft laugh. “You really believe that?”

“Oh, I count on it.”

She snorted a laugh and shook her head. “You’re kind of dangerous when you get all righteous.”

I raised a brow. “Dangerous?”

“In a good way.” She leaned a little closer, her perfume mingling with the sticky summer air. “You say exactly what I want to hear, and I can’t tell if it’s real or not.”

“It’s real,” I said simply. “I’m not a circus monkey. I don’t perform when I’m told to. I don’t say what I’ve been told to say.”

She studied me for a moment, her hazel eyes searching mine like she was trying to peel back the layers of charm and see what was underneath. I didn’t mind. Let her look. I had perfected my easygoing demeanor. No one saw the real me. Hell, I wasn’t even sure if the real me existed anymore.

“You’re not what I expected,” she said finally.

“You keep saying that,” I replied with a grin. “I’m starting to think you had me pegged as some kind of monster.”

“Not a monster,” she said, shaking her head. “Just… I don’t know. A caricature, maybe. The rich playboy who doesn’t care about anything but himself.”

I raised an eyebrow. “And now?”

She hesitated, then smiled. “Now I think you might actually be human.”

I laughed, leaning back on my hands and looking up at the sky. The stars were barely visible through the city lights, but they were there if you looked hard enough. “Careful, Mina. That almost sounds like a compliment.”

“Don’t let it go to your head,” she said, nudging me with her elbow. “You’re still insufferable.”

“Insufferable but human,” I corrected.

She put the empty bottle on the ground, letting it roll against the curb.

“Should we find another one?” I asked her.

“Another what?”

“Bottle,” I answered.

She stared at me for a few seconds. I could see the wheels turning but I had no idea what was going on in that pretty head of hers.

And then she kissed me.

It wasn’t planned. It wasn’t smooth. Her mouth just landed on mine like she’d finally decided she didn’t want to think anymore. I kissed her back, slowly at first, then deeper when she let out the softest sound.

My hand slid up her back and cupped her neck gently. She gripped the front of my shirt, her hand twisting as she pulled me closer. Kissing her was more intoxicating than the stolen wine. I could get lost in her arms and mouth.

“Oh my God,” she gasped, pulling back, her lips flushed and glossy.

I blinked. “What?”

I was going to remind her she kissed me when she grinned.

“They’re playing my favorite song!” she declared.

“They what? Who?”

“Inside,” she said. “I love this song.”

I didn’t know the song, but clearly she did.

Without thinking, I jumped to my feet and grabbed her hand. “Then we’re not missing it.”

Her eyes widened. “Are you serious?”

“Dead serious. Come on.”

“What if they notice us?” she asked.

“Indeed.”

We ran across the parking lot, past the staff clustered near the back door. They barely glanced at us as we slipped in through the kitchen, past a very startled caterer who shouted something I didn’t catch.

We made it back to the edge of the dance floor just as the chorus hit. Mina lit up .

“Dance with me, shark charmer,” she said with a grin.

I grabbed her waist and pulled her into me. “Only if you promise not to tell anyone I don’t actually have a pet shark named Steven.”

She laughed, and then we were dancing, spinning, dipping.

She moved like the music lived in her bones, reckless and vibrant and just a little wild.

This was a woman without a single care in the world.

Footloose and fancy free. Her body pressed against mine.

All soft curves and silky skin that made me forget to think about anything else.

I forgot about Dad and Hectar and the marriage they were trying to push us into.

It was just her. Me. And about a hundred other strangers.

We were mid-spin when someone tapped me hard on the shoulder.

“Excuse me,” said a man in a tux with a confused, suspicious expression. “Who did you say you were again?”

Busted .

I smiled, gave him a charmingly vague answer. Mina tugged my hand.

“Run,” she whispered.

So we did.

We burst out the front doors, laughing breathlessly.

Her heels clicked against the pavement as we ran down the street like teenagers.

When we finally stopped, it was around the corner, near a fountain in a quiet courtyard lit by string lights.

Mina leaned against the stone edge, laughing with her arm wrapped around her middle.

“We’re the worst people alive,” she said.

“I’ve been worse,” I replied. “Trust me.”

“I can’t remember the last time I had this much fun.”

I knew what she meant. This kind of stupid, spontaneous joy didn’t come easily in our world. It was rare. Priceless.

I sat next to her on the fountain’s edge, our legs brushing.

“I should have snagged another bottle,” she sighed. “Champagne. I feel like celebrating.”

“Celebrating?” I questioned.

“Freedom!” she yelled and raised her hands in the air. “I’m free!”

I understood what she was saying. She was free of Sampson’s betrayal.

It was like she had turned a corner and was moving on.

I hated that she had dealt with that on her own.

She didn’t think her father supported her and that sucked.

My family wasn’t perfect, but I had my brothers. I would never be alone—not like her.

“You didn’t deserve what Sampson did,” I said quietly. “And your dad might’ve meant well, but it’s still messed up. You shouldn’t have had to hide the truth just because it was inconvenient for everyone else.”

She didn’t say anything. Just looked at me with something unreadable in her expression. Then she leaned her head against my shoulder.

“I hated feeling like a burden,” she whispered. “Like I was a problem to manage. My feelings weren’t even on the list of priorities.”

“They should’ve been first on the list.”

I felt her shift, her breath warm against my neck. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

“I don’t know. It’s just happening naturally. Should I be mean?”

She was quiet for a moment. “Are you always like this? Or are you just trying to be nice because you want in my pants?”

I chuckled. “If I wanted to get in your pants, I would be turning on the charm, not the human side of me. And you’d already be naked.”

“I don’t think you can drive,” she said with a sigh. “You’re clearly drunk.”

“You would be right.”

“I should go home.”

“Why?” I asked.

“Because I’m not dressed for sleeping in the park,” she joked.

I looked at her and made a decision. I told myself it was the smart, responsible thing to do. It had nothing to do with me being drawn to her and actually hoping I might get in her pants. Or under her dress.

Bancroft Isaac part 2