Page 44 of My Horrible Arranged Marriage (Bancroft Billionaire Brothers #20)

ISAAC

T he tailor was aggressively chipper for someone who made his living poking pins at people’s crotches. I hated fittings. When I was younger and the guy touched my junk for the first time, I knew I was never going to get used to the whole process. I stood on my little pedestal waiting for my turn.

“Stand still,” the tailor chirped at Kent, who fidgeted like a kid forced into church clothes. “You’re going to skew the measurements.”

“I think he’s just trying to get a better look at my inseam,” Kent muttered out the corner of his mouth. “Can’t blame him. It’s impressive.”

I snorted and adjusted the stiff collar of my tuxedo shirt, catching my reflection in the mirror.

I looked like every over-polished finance guy I hated.

The only thing missing was the fake laugh and a cocaine habit.

We all had tuxes in our closets due to the number of balls, galas, and high-profile events we got roped into, but my wedding required a different tux.

“Why are you even here?” I asked, stepping off the fitting pedestal. “I thought tuxes were too establishment for you.”

Kent tilted his head dramatically as the tailor crouched in front of him with a tape measure. “What can I say? The idea of free champagne, expensive food, and emotionally vulnerable bridesmaids really speaks to my soul.”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re going to get punched in the face.”

“Probably,” he said cheerfully. “But it’ll be worth it. Also, I like weddings. Is that such a crime?”

I raised an eyebrow. “You like weddings?”

“Yeah. You know all that love, hope, trauma bonding over subpar DJ choices. Plus, I want to see if you cry. I need to see you cry. I’m betting a hundred bucks on it with Hudson.”

“Tell Hudson to prepare for disappointment. Did you volunteer to be my best man because you’re hoping it’s going to help you hook up?” I asked.

It all came together in my mind.

He flashed a grin. “Guilty as charged,” Kent said, winking at me. “But also, I’m your brother. And despite your questionable life choices, I’m here to support you. Mostly.”

I shook my head, smirking. “You’re a disaster.”

“And yet, you love me,” he shot back, stepping down from the pedestal as the tailor stepped back and jotted down the numbers.

“You’re next,” the tailor said, pointing at me with a pin between his teeth.

I groaned but stepped back onto the pedestal, letting the man adjust the fit of my jacket.

The fabric was heavy and stiff, but it looked good.

Mina would like it. That was all that mattered.

It surprised me that I was willing to wear whatever it took to make her happy.

I’d wear the goofy purple suit if she asked me to.

The tailor moved to adjust my jacket sleeves, muttering something about length and precision, while Kent struck a pose like he was modeling for GQ.

“You know, I’m kind of impressed,” Kent said. “I didn’t think you’d actually go through with it.”

“Go through with what?” I asked.

“Marriage. Love. Commitment. The whole thing. I know all of us have some seedy pasts but you my friend, you are probably one of the last I would expect to enter into marital bliss.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I muttered. “But did you think Hayes or Hudson, or hell, Zayn, would be happy in marriage?”

He laughed. “No, I suppose I didn’t.”

“It’s going to happen to you,” I warned.

“The hell it is.” He snorted.

“You’re missing out,” I told him.

“I’m good. But you’ve been different lately. Less feral.”

“Feral?”

“You used to be like a charming sociopath. Now you’re charming and semi-domesticated. It’s adorable.”

I was about to tell him where he could shove his commentary when my phone buzzed in my pocket. I checked the screen and saw the name.

Jett.

He was still trying to get me the information I desperately needed but was equally dreading to hear. If it was my brothers, the Bancroft family was going to be rocked. There was no way I could let it go. There would be hell to pay.

“Give me a minute,” I said, stepping off the pedestal. I answered as I stepped into the hallway. “Yeah?”

“You alone?” Jett asked.

“I am now. What’s going on?”

There was a pause. “Sampson definitely leaked the story.”

My blood went cold.

“But how does he know?” I asked. In the back of my mind, I knew it was impossible for Jett to know something like that.

“Hectar Duvall,” he said.

“What? What the hell? Hectar told Sampson?”

“Yep, the whole deal,” Jett said. “About the arrangement. The favor. That you were supposed to make her fall for you, so she’d say yes. Dad’s misdeeds. He knows a lot more than what was in that article.”

I turned toward the window, jaw tightening. “How?”

“He heard it from the source,” Jett said again. “Hectar Duvall.”

I blinked. “That can’t be right. Hectar doesn’t even like Sampson.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Jett said. “He told him everything. And not recently—this was before you even proposed.”

“When?” I demanded, my voice dropping to a harsh whisper. Every muscle in my body tensed.

“About three weeks before you proposed,” Jett said. “I found the timeline. Hectar met with Sampson at the Gold Room downtown for drinks. Private booth but not private enough.”

“Why the hell would he do that?” My free hand curled into a fist.

“From what I gathered, he was testing the waters. Seeing if Sampson was interested in reconciling with Mina. Apparently, he still preferred him to you.”

“That son of a bitch,” I muttered.

“It gets worse,” Jett said, his tone flat and professional.

“Hectar told Sampson everything—about the debt Dad owed him, about how he called it in to get one of the Bancroft boys to marry his wayward daughter. How you would get Dad’s blessing to work in Hudson’s charity.

He knows Dad owed Hectar for covering up some financial mess years ago.

He knows you were supposed to charm her, get her to fall in love, then propose—all to repay that debt.

Hectar told Sampson he didn’t care which Bancroft married her. ”

“Fuck.”

“Isaac, did you agree to marry her, give her a kid, and then you were free to divorce her?”

I cringed. “Jett, that was not the arrangement.”

“That’s a dick move,” Jett hissed.

“I didn’t have a choice,” I said, my voice low. “I know it sounds bad?—”

“It sounds worse than bad,” Jett said. “It sounds like you’re using this woman.”

I closed my eyes, pinching the bridge of my nose. “It’s not like that anymore. I love her. I’m in love with her.”

“Does she know?” Jett asked. “About the original plan?”

“She knows some of it,” I admitted. “Not all the details.”

“Well, Sampson knows all of it,” Jett said. “And he’s itching to tell her. That article was just the opening salvo. He’s got more.”

My stomach dropped. “How do you know?”

“Because he’s been shopping around to different tabloids, trying to get the highest bidder for the full story. I got this from a source at the Post. He’s planning to drop the bombshell right before your wedding.”

“I’ll kill him,” I growled.

“That would be counterproductive,” Jett said dryly. “Look, you need to tell her everything. Now. Before he does.”

I leaned against the wall, suddenly feeling like I might be sick. “She’ll hate me.”

“Maybe,” Jett said. “But at least she’ll hear it from you.”

My heart dropped into my shoes.

“What the hell was he thinking?”

“No idea,” Jett said.

I barely remembered hanging up. My mind was spinning as I walked back into the fitting room.

Kent was mid-joke with the tailor, laughing like he didn’t have a care in the world. I opened my mouth to say something, then closed it again.

There was no point.

“I gotta go,” I said instead.

Kent frowned. “Wait, what?”

“Something came up. Finish without me.”

“You’re bailing on your own tux fitting?” he called after me as I grabbed my jacket and headed for the exit.

I didn’t bother replying. I headed for my Porsche.

Anger rolled through me. I was so pissed.

I couldn’t believe Hectar was purposely trying to hurt his daughter.

What the hell was wrong with him? Why was he sabotaging this thing?

He wanted me to marry her, and I fell in love with her.

That seemed like the best-case scenario.

Unless this was some weird revenge against me or maybe my dad.

But it would only hurt Mina. I couldn’t understand how a father would do that to his daughter.

I saw Hectar’s car creeping down the long drive, driver already behind the wheel.

Perfect timing.

I stepped in front of the gate just as it started to swing open. The car eased to a stop. Hectar was in the back seat, head down, likely scrolling through some quarterly earnings report or destroying someone via email.

I knocked on the window.

He glanced up. His brow furrowed when he saw me. The window lowered with a mechanical whir.

“Isaac,” he said, smooth as ever. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“We need to talk,” I said.

He sighed and motioned for the driver to wait for a minute. He stepped out, straightening his cuffs.

“I just heard from Jett,” I said. “He says Sampson knows about the arrangement.”

Hectar didn’t flinch. “Yes.”

That stopped me cold. “You’re admitting it?”

He folded his hands behind his back, calm as a monk. “I told him. Months ago.”

“Why?”

“Because he came sniffing around again,” Hectar said, voice clipped. “Trying to rekindle things with Mina. He said he still loved her. That he’d changed. That he deserved another chance.”

“And you believed that crap?”

“Of course not,” Hectar said. “But I also knew Mina. She was vulnerable. Still recovering from the damage he caused. I wanted to make sure he stayed away.”

My fists clenched. “So you told him she was being bought off in a marriage contract?”

“I told him she was safe,” Hectar corrected. “That she was going to marry someone who could give her everything he never could. Stability. Power. Protection. I thought if he knew how serious it was, he’d back off.”

“But you didn’t stop at the engagement,” I said, anger rising. “You told him about the favor . About how I was supposed to make her fall for me. About my job. You laid it all out.”

“I did.”

“Why?” I demanded. “Why the hell would you tell him all that?”

“Because I trusted him,” Hectar said. “More than I should have, clearly.”

I shook my head. “You used me like a pawn.”

“You volunteered to play the game,” he said calmly. “Don’t pretend otherwise.”

“She’s going to find out,” I said. “This whole thing—she’s going to find out what it was built on.”

“And what would you like to do?” Hectar asked, tilting his head. “Tell her?”

I didn’t answer.

He stepped forward, his voice lowering. “Does that mean you want to tell her this whole thing is a contract deal? That your feelings weren’t real when you first got involved? That it all started with a favor owed between two powerful men who saw her as a means to an end?”

“She knows part of it,” I said. “That stupid article did the trick.”

“Part of it?”

I clenched my jaw. “She deserves the truth.”

“Yes,” Hectar said. “But she also deserves peace. A happy wedding. Stability. If you tell her now, you destroy all of that. And for what? Your guilt?”

I hated that he was making sense.

“I’m not protecting you ,” I snapped. “Don’t get it twisted.”

“I don’t care who you think you’re protecting,” Hectar said. “Just don’t blow up her life because you need to absolve yourself.”

I stared at him, fury twisting in my chest. “Fine,” I said finally. “We won’t tell her.”

Hectar shrugged. “Fine.”

“But if this blows up in my face, you’d better be ready to watch her walk away from both of us.”

“I don’t plan to let it get that far,” he said simply. “Neither should you.”