Page 40 of My Horrible Arranged Marriage (Bancroft Billionaire Brothers #20)

ISAAC

T he morning sun was already hot as hell when we stepped out of the building. The city buzzed with its usual chaotic energy. Mina walked beside me, her hand in mine. I couldn’t help but notice the way she smiled to herself. I knew the feeling. Breakfast had been memorable. And very naked.

The whipped cream and strawberries? I had to cut off the thought or I was going to drag her ass right back upstairs and into my bed.

“You sure you don’t want me to drive you?” I asked, shoving my hands into my pockets as we approached the sleek black car parked at the curb.

She shook her head, that playful glint in her eyes. “We both have a ton of stuff to get done. No point in wasting a couple hours driving.”

I opened the back door of the car. “Hey, I can be a gentleman and do the proper thing. Especially after the night you gave me.”

“Oh, I know,” she said, stepping closer, her voice dropping just enough to make my pulse kick up a notch. “But I think I like you better when you’re not.”

Her words hung in the air between us, and for a second, I forgot we were standing in the middle of Manhattan.

I had fucked until my body was completely sated.

But even now, the little guy was stirring to life.

The woman did things to me that seemed impossible.

My body was hers to play like a fiddle any damn time she wanted to. I was helpless to reject her.

Not that I ever would.

I reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face, and she didn’t pull away.

“You’re trouble,” I said, my voice low.

“And you’re not?” she shot back with a smirk.

I kissed her, not giving a shit who was scandalized. When I pulled back, she had that dazed look in her eyes. “Damn, I can’t wait to marry you,” she murmured.

“All day. Every day. Speaking of, we need to iron out the honeymoon details.”

She groaned. “I know, I know. I’m going home. I’m calling in the big guns. We are so far behind. My dad pulled some strings, and we’ve got one of the best wedding planners coming on board.”

“Just let me know what I need to do,” I said.

I gave her another quick kiss and put her in the car. Then I headed back inside, my smile gone and my anger burning bright.

The article was a wrecking ball. A calculated, cruel one.

And it pissed me off. I played it off last night, but I was furious.

Someone was trying to sabotage this thing we had.

And I knew there were only a handful of people that knew about that stupid arrangement.

I didn’t want to think about one of my brothers betraying me.

And there was just no way they would talk to the media.

We had all been taught from a very young age not to talk to the press.

Ever. Off the record was bullshit. We knew better.

Would Hectar sabotage his own daughter?

Yes .

I grabbed my phone, scrolling past the headline again and again like it might disappear if I refreshed the page enough: Duvall’s Only Daughter: Another Failed Engagement?

My stomach twisted into something unrecognizable.

Anger. Guilt. Panic. All of it brewed into one volatile mess that simmered just under my skin.

This was one of those stories that would grow legs.

It was going to keep getting recycled and more people would come out of the woodwork to dump more fuel on the fire.

My stable full of exes would certainly have some juicy tidbits to add to the story.

I knew I left some broken hearts and pissed-off women in my wake.

“Fuck me,” I muttered as I read through another article that popped up.

I needed answers. And if anyone could get them, it was Jett.

My brother was one of the best private investigators in the world.

He and his wife did big and small cases.

They tracked down missing kids. Recovered kidnapped victims in foreign countries, including our father.

They even looked for missing dogs if they were looking for something a little lighter to focus on.

He would have the ability to find out who was leaking to the media.

And God help me if it was one of my brothers.

I pressed his contact and hit call.

“Yo,” he answered on the third ring.

“What kind of greeting is that?” I asked.

“It’s a greeting. Jett Bancroft speaking. How may I help you? Is that better?”

I ignored the teasing. He was in a good mood. He had been in a good mood since he met Nancy. Well, technically not when they met but once they got their shit figured out. “I need a favor,” I said, pacing the width of my living room with one hand on the back of my neck. “A big one.”

He sighed. “You always do. What’s up?”

“There’s this article. A tabloid piece about me and Mina—about our engagement. It’s full of bullshit, and someone clearly leaked information to make it look like I’m using her.”

Silence stretched long enough I thought he might’ve put the phone down.

“And?”

“And I need to know who fed them that garbage, Jett,” I snapped. “I need to know where it came from. Who started it? Someone’s trying to take a swing at me—at us.”

Jett groaned. “Isaac, I’m in the middle of three cases. Two involve missing persons and one involves insurance fraud with so many forged documents I think I’m going blind. And you want me to play Gossip Girl?”

“I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t serious. This is going to hurt her. I don’t want her hurt.”

“You wouldn’t call if you didn’t think it might blow up in your face,” he muttered, then sighed louder this time. “Send me the article. I’ll poke around. No promises on timeline.”

“Thank you,” I said, feeling some of the tension in my shoulders ease. “I owe you.”

“Yeah, you do. Dinner. Expensive wine. Nancy wants a new espresso machine.”

“I’ll throw in a puppy if you get me a name.”

He hung up.

I dropped onto the couch, leaning forward, elbows on my knees, and stared down at the floor.

I told her some of the story, but there was more, and if it came out, it would crush her.

I would lose her. My gut told me my father wouldn’t talk to the press, but I needed to talk to him.

I needed to know who else knew about this favor and the trouble my father had been in.

This would be the perfect way for one of his enemies to fuck with him.

Fuck with him through me. That’s a move I was used to.

I showered and threw on a pair of jeans and a cotton shirt before heading out.

The housekeeper let me in and told me to make myself comfortable while she tracked down my father.

I offered to just call him, but she looked offended.

With a house as big as my father’s, it certainly seemed more effective to just call, but whatever.

I plopped on the couch in the den and leaned my head back, basking in the coolness of the room.

If I didn’t have to do the cake thing and a bunch of other wedding things, I would be diving into the pool right now.

I sighed thinking about my life a month ago.

I’d been hovering by the pool, scrolling through the contact list of willing women without a care in the world.

And then Hectar had walked into my life and everything changed.

“You look like hell,” Dad said, dropping into the leather chair across from me.

“Thanks. Just what I needed.”

“I read the article,” he said, his voice more serious now. “You think it’s going to spread?”

“I think it already has.” I ran my hand through my hair. “She saw it. She’s furious. Hurt. I don’t blame her.”

He was quiet a moment, which was rare for my father. “Did you tell her the truth?”

I looked at him. “Most of it.”

Before he could reply, we both turned at the sound of heels on tile. Kathy strode in, waving her phone like it was a loaded weapon.

“Unbelievable,” she said, eyes flashing. “Absolutely unbelievable.”

“Kathy—” Dad began.

“No,” she snapped, pointing at both of us. “Is this true? Did you two scheme to marry off this woman?”

“It’s not like that,” I said.

“Oh?” she asked, her eyebrows raised. “What did I just overhear? You asked him if he told her the truth.” Her accusing glare was directed at my father. I was glad she was looking at him and not me. The woman was practically breathing fire.

But then she turned her gaze on me. “Answer me!”

I opened my mouth and snapped it shut. What the hell was I supposed to say? I looked at my dad, who gave the slightest shake of his head. I understood what he was saying. Keep my mouth shut. Kathy wasn’t actually expecting an answer.

“You two have done a lot of selfish things over the years, but this?” She shook her head. “Using that sweet girl like a pawn in one of your business games? That’s a new low.”

My jaw tightened. “It wasn’t?—”

“Don’t you dare defend it,” she said, cutting me off. “Even if you love her now—which I pray to God you do—you started this entire relationship on a lie.”

“I didn’t want it to be this way!” I shouted, rising to my feet. “But by the time I realized how I felt, I was already in too deep to tell her the truth.”

“That doesn’t make it better,” she said, crossing her arms. “She’s going to find out. If not from you, then from someone else. This family leaks more than a sieve.”

“She’s right,” Dad added quietly.

Kathy scoffed. “Oh now you grow a conscience?”

Dad got up to follow her as she turned on her heel and stormed out. I watched the door close behind them and sank back onto the couch.

God, this was a mess.

A fucking mess.

“Good luck,” I said and got to my feet.

“Where the hell are you going?”

“I’m going to talk to Hudson,” I said.

Hudson had a way of knowing things. Maybe it was because he was the sober one. With him still fighting every day to remain sober, he seemed to be more present. More aware. It was like he was always keeping his guard up to keep from falling into old patterns.

I didn’t stick around to find out if Kathy was going to make herself a widow.

I drove back into the city with my fingers tapping against the steering wheel.

Hudson didn’t like the idea of what I was doing.

Yeah, he found out, which wasn’t a surprise.

He worked day in and day out with Hayes and Zayn and he already suspected something.

That’s what happened when you had a reputation like I did.

Hudson’s office was near the back. It had always been near the back. Like he wanted to see everything and everyone before they saw him.

I walked in without knocking.

He didn’t look up. “I assume this isn’t a social call.”

“I need to ask you something,” I said.

He looked up, finally putting his pen down and leveling a gaze at me that I’d come to expect. He was pissed at me. Like Kathy.

“Is this about the article?” he asked.

“Did you leak it?”

Hudson’s eyes narrowed. “No.”

“You didn’t hesitate.”

“Because I didn’t do it,” he said flatly, leaning back in his chair. “Why? You think I’d throw you under the bus for fun?”

“I think you’ve been warning me for weeks that this thing with Mina would end badly. I think you’ve made it very clear you don’t think I deserve her.”

He raised a brow. “Do you?”

I exhaled through my nose. “I didn’t come here for a therapy session.”

“Well, you brought your baggage.” He stood, grabbing a file off his desk and tossing it into a drawer. “You’re spiraling. And I get it. You care about her. That wasn’t supposed to happen. Now you’re scrambling to keep her, but you built the foundation out of lies.”

I opened my mouth but stopped.

Because he wasn’t wrong.

“Come back when you get your head out of your ass,” Hudson said, turning away to stare out the window. “Then maybe we can talk about damage control.”

I left without another word.