Page 22 of My Horrible Arranged Marriage (Bancroft Billionaire Brothers #20)

ISAAC

O ut on the Duvall driveway, I brushed off my ridiculous purple suit with more force than necessary. I looked like a villain in a cartoon—loud and absurd. The Joker. Or a skinny Barney. It wasn’t a good look. I didn’t care that I had gotten tossed out of the party. Fuck them. Fuck all of them.

Hectar Duvall was a man with no morals. How dare he insist Mina invite fucking Sampson. That was a dick move. It was even more dickish that Sampson showed up. What did they think was going to happen? I couldn’t believe they thought it was okay to make Mina be in the same room with him.

I should’ve known it would go this way. I’d spent too long around the Duvalls to expect anything less than theatrics.

Still, the rush of it all hadn’t worn off.

My knuckles were still tingling from how close I’d come to punching Sampson in the face.

Hell, if Mina hadn’t looked at me the way she did…

He had earned a smack in the face. I wanted to make his nose bleed. He deserved to hurt. He hurt Mina in so many different ways. He made her feel less than. Her father was trying to shove her into a marriage because of how badly she had spiraled after Sampson’s betrayal. It was a mess.

I walked down the long driveway. I hadn’t called a car yet.

I wasn’t ready to sit. I needed to walk to burn off some of this aggression.

My hands were shoved deep in my pockets, my shoulders tense, my jaw clenched so tight it ached.

The fresh air did nothing to calm the fire still burning in my chest.

I could still feel the weight of Sampson’s jacket in my fists, the way his face had paled when I’d hauled him forward. I could still see Mina’s eyes—wide, pleading—as she’d shaken her head at me.

She should’ve let me hit him.

The thought played on a loop in my head, taunting me.

Sampson deserved it. He deserved worse. The way he’d looked at Mina, like he still had some kind of claim on her, like he was owed her time and attention.

It made my blood boil. And then he’d opened his mouth about my family.

Like he had any right to talk about the Bancrofts.

We could buy and sell his family with the change in our couch cushions.

I kicked a loose stone, sending it skittering across the driveway.

I felt bad about leaving Mina in there, but I wasn’t dumb enough to try and fight off a whole security team.

It would land me in jail for the night. That would only piss my father off more than he was going to be when he heard about this shitshow.

But it was his fault. He was the one that put me in this predicament. He thought it would be smart to pair me up with Duvall’s daughter. I wasn’t a trained circus animal. Yeah, I could play along for a while, but a man had his limits and Sampson had found mine.

Footsteps echoed behind me, heels on stone.

I turned, and there she was.

Mina.

Her dress swirled around her legs as she stormed toward me like something out of a dream. I stopped walking and waited for her to reach me.

“You okay?” I asked.

She stopped a few feet away, breathing hard. “Yeah,” she said quickly, then shook her head. “No. Not even close.”

I nodded. “Didn’t think so.”

She looked back at the house over her shoulder, then down at the stone driveway, then finally up at me again. Her eyes searched mine, as if she were debating what to say. Or what she was allowed to say. I stayed quiet and let her come to it on her own.

“I don’t want to stay here tonight,” she said.

“Then don’t. Come home with me.”

“Are you sure?”

I smiled. “More than sure. I need to call my driver, but I’m thinking I’ll wait for him beyond the gate. It’s probably not a good idea for me to wait on the Duvall property.”

“I’m sorry,” she muttered.

“Don’t be.” I pulled out my phone and texted my driver. Thankfully, he was only five minutes away. He was probably hanging out with the other drivers playing cards.

We walked in silence toward the gate. The night air was warm, and the distant hum of the party faded with each step. Mina’s heels clicked against the pavement. I could feel her glancing at me every so often, but I kept my eyes forward, my hands still shoved in my pockets.

When we reached the gate, I leaned against it, crossing my arms over my chest. Mina stood beside me.

“You didn’t have to come after me,” I said finally, breaking the quiet.

She turned to look at me. “Yes, I did.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Because you didn’t deserve that,” she said, her voice firm. “You were standing up for me, and my father just threw you out like you were some kind of criminal.”

I shrugged, trying to play it off like it didn’t bother me. “It’s fine. I’m used to it.”

“It’s not fine,” she insisted, stepping closer. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

My car pulled up a few minutes later. I opened the back door for her and watched her slide in. I got in, closed the door, and leaned forward. “My place,” I said.

“Yes, Mr. Bancroft.”

“My stomach’s eating itself,” she muttered finally.

“We never got dinner,” I said. “Those few snacks we had weren’t much.”

“Just an appetizer of emotional trauma and public humiliation,” she said on a sigh.

I snorted. “How about a greasy burger and fries? There’s a place near my building. We’ll swing by and pick it up.”

“Sold.”

The car pulled up to the curb outside the restaurant. “I’ll be back in a minute,” I said.

The place was nearly empty at this hour. I had called ahead and ordered our meals. I quickly paid and took the two paper bags back to the car.

“Damn, that smells good,” Mina said.

I laughed. “I know.”

We made it to my building without tearing into the bags in the back of the car.

We ate at my kitchen island with the food spread out between us.

She sat across from me in one of my chairs, feet pulled up underneath her, hair piled in a messy bun.

She was still in her fancy dress. I had taken off my jacket and unbuttoned the top few buttons of my shirt.

“Okay, let’s list the highlights,” Mina said around a fry, waving it like a wand.

“Highlights?” I asked.

I leaned back in my chair and watched Mina pop another fry into her mouth. “Highlights, huh? Let’s see. The sea shanties were definitely a hit. Who knew drunk socialites could get so into pirate music?”

Mina laughed, her eyes sparkling. “Right? I thought for sure they’d hate it, but they were stomping and clapping like it was the best thing they’d ever heard.”

“And the cocktails,” I added, gesturing to the grease-stained bag between us. “Rum Around and Find Out for the win. Though I think your Mina’s Melons had its charm.”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her grin. “Charm? It sounded like a bad joke.”

“A bad joke that people couldn’t stop talking about,” I countered before taking a bite of my burger. “Face it, Duvall, you’re a trendsetter.”

She shook her head, still smiling, but then her expression softened. “And then there was Sampson.”

I set my burger down, my jaw tightening at the mention of his name. “Yeah. That was… something.”

Mina sighed, picking at the edge of her fry container. “I should’ve known he’d show up. My dad probably thought it would be some kind of grand gesture or something. Like forcing us to be in the same room would magically fix everything.”

“Your dad’s an idiot,” I said bluntly.

She snorted. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

I didn’t want to dwell on it.

“We can’t forget the best highlight. You got me kicked out,” I said, mouth full.

She rolled her eyes. “You got yourself kicked out.”

“And I regret nothing.”

Mina smiled. “Thank you. For standing up for me.”

I looked at her, really looked. No trace of the party girl act, no performative charm. Just her. Honest and open.

“Anytime,” I said. “Seriously. I don’t take shit from anyone and hate when people hurt other people.”

“I’m sorry you got thrown out. My dad doesn’t know how to deal with anything that isn’t perfect.”

I shrugged. “Not the first time I’ve been escorted off someone’s lawn. Probably won’t be the last.”

That got a smile out of her. Soft. Real.

I didn’t realize how much I’d needed that look from her until she gave it to me.

There was something about Mina that made it easy to be myself.

The real me. Not the cleaned-up, PR-safe version I was sometimes expected to play when I got dragged into one of my brothers’ events.

With her, I didn’t have to pretend I was as polished as Hayes or as effortlessly charming as Zayn.

I didn’t have to keep my temper locked down or my sarcasm tucked away.

I could just be Isaac. Messy. Blunt. Sharp around the edges.

And she liked me anyway.

Hell, maybe even because of it.

That wasn’t something I was used to.

Most of the women I’d dated or, let’s be honest, hooked up with —wanted the idea of me.

The Bancroft name. The parties. The promise of being around wealth and clout.

But the second they saw the rough parts, the cracks, they cooled off.

Got disappointed. I wasn’t going to be the good boy that would get them invitations to the most powerful parties.

They wanted the fancy dinners and prestigious events where the top political people mingled.

But Mina?

She understood what it was like to live under a microscope. To be expected to smile when you felt like screaming. To carry a name like a curse and a crown all at once.

That kind of shared understanding did something to you.

It made it harder to lie.

My stomach twisted, the fries no longer tasting as good.

The guilt washed over me. Because I was lying.

Not with my words, exactly—but with my silence.

Her father had pulled me into this. It was his plan.

His idea. The whole ridiculous scheme hinged on me playing along.

Making Mina fall for me. Marry me, eventually, if things went according to plan.

I knew how furious she’d be when she found out. She hated deception. She hated manipulation.

And I hated that I hadn’t told her.

But I told myself that it didn’t matter. She wasn’t going to fall for me. Not really. This was just a detour for both of us. A distraction. She was coming out of a shitty relationship and I was me. If I could make her see that she was worthy of being married it might help her heal.

And I was having a good time. A real time. I didn’t want to ruin that. We could enjoy each other a little while longer.

“Do you ever feel like everyone just expects you to be something you’re not?” Mina asked suddenly, pulling me from my thoughts.

I looked up. “All the time.”

She tilted her head. “Yeah?”

“You saw how Sampson brought up my family. The ‘billionaire pretty boys,’” I said, smirking bitterly.

“That’s not far off from how people see us.

My brothers? They’re all amazing. Hayes is basically royalty in a three-piece suit.

Hudson’s brilliant. Kent’s cool as hell. Zayn? Don’t even get me started.”

Mina smiled softly. “And you?”

“I’m the one who dropped out of business school, couldn’t stick to anything, changed career paths five times, and has a reputation for pissing off every PR manager our family’s ever hired.”

She laughed, and it wasn’t mocking. It was understanding.

“I’m the black sheep,” I said. “Always have been.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

I blinked.

She reached across the counter and touched my hand lightly. “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with not fitting into a mold.”

I wanted to kiss her right then, but she beat me to it. She leaned in slowly, gave me time to pull away, but I didn’t. I tilted into her like it was the most natural thing in the world.

When we broke apart, she took a drink from the soda I had poured for her. “I’m glad you were there with me tonight.”

I swallowed. “I’m glad I was, too.”

“I’m glad someone finally had the courage to stand up to Sampson,” she said.

“That’s how it was when we were together.

I didn’t matter. I was just the woman on his arm.

I was supposed to be quiet unless spoken to.

He didn’t care about my opinions. Sampson was more like a bossy father than a boyfriend.

He tried to tell me what to wear and always lectured me before and after we went out together.

I smiled too much at this guy or said the wrong thing to another one.

I hate that he cheated on me, but I’m so glad he did. ”