Page 13

13

BILLIE

“ E arl Grey. Calloway,” the barista calls.

I step up, grab my tea, and take a seat at the table by the large windows. I’ve got ten minutes to kill while my brothers finish their meetings.

My phone buzzes in my pocket just as Banks picks up his coffee from the bar. I meet his warm gaze and instantly wish I’d kept pretending he didn’t exist. Not that it would’ve worked. The distinct scent of him envelops me as he moves closer and takes the chair across from me.

“Go away.” I focus on my phone, reading a text notification.

It’s Prince Louis’s reply to the picture of the new sign I texted him before I left the office.

Prince Louis and his PR team are working overtime to sell our love story. I don’t want them blindsided by the cheating love-triangle rumor that Banks is determined to sell to the public.

While it doesn’t serve the prince, I can definitely work this angle.

Being seen with Banks and then having him announce his partnership with Lustre was last week’s news. After the photos of the prince and me kissing on Saturday went viral, I’ve been drowning in positive press. It’s boosting my image, even if it’s just a temporary fix. When I woke up this morning, I considered it a win—one Banks is refusing to let me have.

This Monday is already shaping up to be a fresh hell, and it’s not even lunchtime.

Louis

Please tell that bloody prick it would be in his best interest to piss off.

I snap a photo of Banks sitting in front of me and text back.

Billie

I’ll let him know right away. Anything else you want me to pass along?

“Excuse me?” Asher leans forward and snatches my phone from my hand.

I stand up, swiping at him, nearly spilling my tea. “Give that back. Now.”

“No.” Banks laughs, extending his arm away from me.

“Seriously! I will fuck you up,” I warn as he scrolls through our recent texts.

“Lots of flirting. And a fit check? Wow. How fucking special,” he says, raising an eyebrow at a picture of me in a dress. His expression shifts, and he finally hands my phone back. “Love knowing the prince is jealous. This is perfect. Thanks for confirming.”

“Wait, you actually think Louis’s jealous of you ? Pfft.” I laugh so hard that I snort. “He’s royalty . You’re …” My words trail off as my gaze drifts from his eyes to his mouth.

Sexy.

Banks leans in, elbows on the table, his dress shirt sleeves rolled to expose his muscular forearms, bringing him inches closer.

“If that mattered, you’d be across the pond, eye-fucking him instead of me. I know how you act when you’re in love. Completely insufferable.”

“I am absolutely not eye-fucking you.” I pull back, creating as much distance as possible, refusing to let him turn the tables while the paparazzi are all over us. If anyone knows how to handle the media, it’s him. “Just leave this alone. Please . I’m asking nicely.”

His gaze is way too intense. Ever since he kissed me, I haven’t been the same. Right now, I can’t decide if I want to slide my tongue against his or slap him across the face. It’s torture.

“Hmm. Naaah. I don’t think I will,” he says playfully, but I know he’s serious.

“You’re an actual menace.” Frustration bubbles inside me.

He chuckles, and I hate that I enjoy the low rumble in his throat. To feel both hatred and desire so intensely might just be insanity.

“And to think all of this could’ve been avoided if you had just set your ego aside.”

“You would have loved me submitting to you too much.” I’m acutely aware of the eyes watching us from the windows.

“One thing we can agree on.”

He returns my gaze, and it feels too intimate. I quickly look away.

“What happened to you?” he asks, pulling my attention back. “You’ve grown soft.”

“I don’t care about your opinion, and I certainly don’t like you. Never have. Never will.” My eyes flicker to his plump lips, and I momentarily get lost in the memory of our elevator encounter.

He raises a brow, as if he knows exactly what I’m thinking.

“Let’s talk facts, shall we? Your business is failing. Your love life? Nonexistent. You have one friend, no pets, and zero hobbies. And that billion-dollar fortune of yours? Locked away until you find some unfortunate soul to endure hell with you for eternity. Look me in the eyes and honestly tell me you think you’re living your best life. ”

He pauses, and I can’t deny I’ve been asleep at the wheel for far too long.

“What frustrates me is that you can change this, but you’re too fucking busy coasting and blaming everyone else for your failures instead of looking in the mirror. This has been your MO since you and Josh split. Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who’s the biggest disappointment of them all? Hmm. Ice Queen. ”

My brow furrows. “How dare y?—”

“I’m not your enemy, princess. Your self-sabotage has done a fantastic job of fucking you over.” Banks removes the lid from his coffee to let it cool. “The girl I met at Stanford would be furious with you right now. To think, Billie fucking Calloway rolled over for a man who pretended to understand the fashion industry. He used you, and you let him. This is the consequence of your actions. Nothing else.”

I glare at him. “My personal life is off-limits. Leave it alone. Stop prying. You have no idea what happened between Josh and me.”

“I know you broke it off with him,” he says.

“You don’t know why.”

The only people I’ve confided in are Harper and my brothers, and they’re like vaults.

“That’s where you’re wrong, babe. I do know.” He lowers his voice.

“Yeah?” I narrow my eyes. “I’m sure he gave you the same lie he tells everyone.”

“He admitted to cheating on you with his ex.”

His brown eyes meet my blues, as if trying to see me crumble, but he gets no reaction. My skin is thicker than steel.

“Josh told you the truth. Wow.” My brows crease. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t shocked. “And even then, you still decided to work with him?” My adrenaline surges, and my face feels like it’s on fire. I haven’t been this angry in a long time. “You’ve officially lost the little respect I had left for you. Leave me alone, Banks. Seriously. ”

Josh has always claimed we mutually split due to business differences. It’s an easier lie to navigate publicly, but when anyone tries to delve deeper, I avoid their questions. I’m ashamed and upset that I gave my heart to a mediocre man. Banks is right. Josh pretends to understand fashion and doesn’t. That was the first red flag I overlooked.

“You do realize I’m immune to your reactions. I’m completely unbothered by your bitchiness; I actually find it kind of endearing.” He waves his hand dismissively. “And if you must know, Josh seemed remorseful about his actions. He said he’s still in love with you.”

“He’s manipulating you,” I snap. “You can’t love someone and also willingly sneak around and cheat and lie. That’s not how it works. He’s in love with the idea of me, with what I could do for him. He is not in love with me. And why are you telling me this? So you can use it against me? Planning to spin this narrative that I’m a horrible person who deserved to be cheated on? Then you’ll play the white knight for Josh Lustre, right?”

“I might be a bastard, but I’d never do that. Not even to you, Ice Queen. Low-hanging fruit isn’t my style. I stab people in the front with truths and real weaknesses. I look my enemy in the eye when I do it too. I may be sneaky, but if you pay attention, you’ll always see me coming.” Banks smirks and leans in. “Knowledge is power. Use what you know to your advantage.”

We stare at one another for a moment too long. Banks is always calculated, and everything he does has a purpose. I just don’t understand it yet. I can’t believe I feel a flutter in my stomach while also being outraged.

“It’s a shame that after all these years, you’re still a weak little man who’s intimidated by me.”

“Oh, please. That’s not what this is. We both know that. And I hope that wasn’t your best attempt to hurt my feelings. Try harder, Ice Queen,” he replies, unfazed.

I growl, “Don’t push me. I have enough dirt on Josh to take down Lustre Fashion, and your firm would be in crisis mode indefinitely.” I smile sweetly. “You really don’t know who you’re messing with.”

“You’re an actual monster,” he says, clearly impressed. “And a cutie about it too. This is going to be fun.”

“Shut. Up.”

“Breaking you down has become my new hobby. It might become my kink.” He pops the lid back on his coffee.

“I’ll never give in to you,” I mutter. “Ever.”

“Oh, I know. But just so you’re aware, if you ever do, I’ll never let you forget it,” he admits.

I glance outside, realizing I’ve already overstayed my welcome with him.

Banks gives me a smug grin. “You’re fucked.”

“Are you offering?” I ask blankly, recalling how he kissed me with everything he had. “Did you tell your girlfriend you had your tongue down my throat on Saturday?”

He licks his lips. “About that, it was a mistake and?—”

“Those are your words. Not mine.” I scoff, hating that I feel anything at all in this moment. When he’s near, my tight control slips away. It’s another reason I can only handle him in short bursts. “I have to go,” I mutter, grabbing my tea.

Time freezes. I’ve said too much, and I need to escape. So, I do.

“Billie,” he calls as I push open the door.

I slide my sunglasses over my eyes, trying to block out the emotions swirling inside me.

Paps follow me, and Banks says my name again.

I ignore him. He catches up and matches my pace.

“That was messed up. I’m sorry,” he mutters.

“Apology not accepted. Don’t talk to me.” I keep my head high and stride forward with purpose.

“This conversation isn’t over,” he warns.

“Stop putting on a show,” I say, hearing the constant clicks of the cameras .

The photographers are capturing every moment. When I glance at Banks, I can’t help but notice how his hair shines golden-brown in the sunlight. So do his eyes.

“Can we talk?” he asks.

“No,” I reply, but I can tell it’s the wrong answer.

He grabs my wrist, his thumb brushing against my fluttering pulse as he pulls me off the sidewalk and leads me inside a vacant building under renovation.

We’re alone.

“Go back to pretending I don’t exist.” My words echo off the empty walls.

Something flickers in his eyes. “Since we met, there’s never been a time when you didn’t exist.”

My heart skips, and my breathing grows ragged. I’m grateful my eyes are hidden behind my sunglasses.

“Do you really think kissing me was a mistake?” I ask, studying him, remembering the spark I felt when our lips collided. Even now, my body continues to betray me.

This is the first time I’ve found myself on the receiving end of a no-feelings kiss, and it sucks. Maybe Banks is right; maybe he is my karma, but what did I do to deserve this?

No answer is still an answer.

“Okay,” I whisper.

Being rejected by a man I can’t stand yet somehow want is a new low for me.

“You didn’t think it was a mistake?” he asks.

“Fuck off, Banks.” I pull my wrist from his grip, doing it with a little more force than necessary.

I push open the door, and the paparazzi anxiously wait outside. I ignore them and cross the street as the sunshine warms my cheeks.

This time, he doesn’t follow, and honestly, that’s for the best. Now I can break free from this ridiculous fantasy. That stupid kiss haunts me like ghosts in a graveyard, mingling with my other hidden skeletons.

I can’t get tangled up with Asher Banks. But despite him threatening to destroy my business and ruin me, I still want to.

Is it simply because I shouldn’t?

Maybe I’m the red flag.

I’m flustered as I take the next crosswalk. I have several blocks to go before I reach Calloway Diamonds headquarters, my escape route.

“You okay? Did he disrespect you?” my cousin Brody asks. “Want me to go back there and beat the fuck out of him?”

“No,” I reply, rolling my eyes, though he can’t see it behind my glasses.

“Were those sparks I saw?”

“Brody,” I say through gritted teeth, “I will fuck you up.”

“You’ll try, little cousin. You’ve got a crush on Asher Banks. Wow.”

“I will fire you,” I warn.

“You can’t. I don’t work for you.” Brody laughs and gives me space as he trails behind.

I enter the building without a hitch—my thumbprint grants me access to Easton and Weston’s floor. I ride up in silence, trying to calm my racing thoughts.

As soon as I step off the elevator, I’m greeted by the familiar diamond shape surrounded by a triangle—a symbol my grandfather sketched on a napkin when he founded this company.

Their secretary meets me with a warm smile. “Easton’s still on a conference call. He said five more minutes, but Weston is free.”

“Thanks,” I reply with a smile before heading into Weston’s office.

I cross the room, aware that this could have been my prison if I’d accepted my father’s offer. Large stacks of financial records are piled on the edge of his desk. He glances away from his screen, meets my eyes for a moment, then returns to his message .

Once he finishes, he looks up with a grin. “It’s my favorite sister and future queen,” he teases. “Should I bow down?”

I lift my sunglasses and shoot him a glare. “You know it’s fake.”

“I’m just practicing my acting skills.” Weston winks, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. “They’re all pining for you.”

“Who?” I ask, confused.

“Louis, Asher, and Josh,” he confirms.

I press my fingers against the bridge of my nose. “Is this a joke?”

“Nope.” He chuckles sarcastically. “You’re the centerpiece of their game. Don’t you see? You’re not Asher’s opponent; you’re the prize.” Weston kicks his feet up on the desk. “After digging deeper, I’d bet money on it.”

Just then, Easton enters, holding a tablet. He hands it to me and leans against the desk, watching intently. “Explain this.”

I swipe through photos of Asher and me at the coffee shop thirty minutes ago. Our conversation is captured in a series of still frames. We look like a couple, sneaking a coffee date. If I swipe fast enough, it almost plays like a movie.

“What is it?” Weston asks, intrigued, leaning forward to get a better look.

I pass him the tablet, and his eyes widen in surprise.

“What is wrong with everyone?” I ask. “Why do you all give me the same reaction?”

Weston zooms in on a photo. It’s from when our faces were just inches apart. I’ll never forget what he said about me eye-fucking him instead of Louis. He saw right through me.

“Are you and Asher secretly working together?” Easton asks.

“Nothing’s going on between us. I was there first; he showed up and wouldn’t leave me alone. That’s it. We’re not conspiring.”

Weston chuckles, swiping through more photos.

I glare at him. “What?”

“I can only imagine what he said to get you to give him that look. Shit. Deadly. You look just like Mom in that one.”

Easton sighs, clearly uncomfortable with any family drama. He hates the extra attention, and I get it—I feel the same way. It’s why I’ve stayed elusive over the years. The less the world knows about me, the better. It’s been that way since I was a kid.

“Hmm,” Easton says, a thoughtful look crossing his face.

“What?” I ask, instantly recognizing that cocky expression.

“I think Asher’s helping you in some weird, fucked-up way,” he says, nodding. “He’s leading you to water.”

“That’s ridiculous.” I shake my head.

He knew Josh had cheated and still agreed to work with him. Only someone who truly hated me would do something so low.

“Anyway, I believe Bellamore will be fine. I’ve been working on different ideas, and I’m on the brink of something big,” I explain.

“He’d better not hurt you.” Easton adopts his CEO, big-brother voice. “I will fuck him up.”

He and Weston do that twin thing where they communicate without speaking. It used to annoy me as a kid.

“I’ve already told Ash—” Weston starts, but stops mid-sentence when the door behind me swings open.

A stunning woman with reddish-brown hair strides in, wearing a vintage Chanel pantsuit and high heels. If I had to guess, it’s from the 1996 collection. It fits her perfectly, and her fierce red lipstick completes the look. She enters, exuding a confidence that I wish I had.

Easton stands to greet her with a firm handshake. She offers him a gentle hello before turning her full attention to me.

“This is Stormy,” Weston says with a mischievous grin.

She approaches me without a care in the world, extending her perfectly manicured hand. She clearly has money, evident from the $800,000 diamond bracelet dangling on her wrist. Less than fifty of those were ever made.

“Nice to meet you, Billie. I’m your secret weapon and corporate fairy godmother.”

“Hi.” I’m not sure what to say, but she seems to have everything figured out. “Why have I never heard of you before? ”

“I work in the shadows, staying hidden behind the scenes. My services are like Fight Club—only those at the very top know me when they need an expert to help them clean up a mess. Just to be clear, I’m only here because your brothers called in a huge favor. Technically, you don’t qualify. But the Calloways have kept my family in business for decades.”

I stare at her, realizing I thought I knew everything about running a successful company. If there are entire organizations I’ve never heard of that assist those at the top, what else is out there that I don’t know?

“What does this entail?”

“How good are you at following directions?”

“Depends on who’s giving them,” I reply.

“You said you were willing to do whatever it takes to save Bellamore,” Weston reminds me.

He’s right; I did say that, and I meant it wholeheartedly. I’d do anything for my company. Well, anything except beg on my knees for Asher. I do have some boundaries after all.

Stormy sizes me up. She looks only a few years older than I am. In a different context, we might even be friends. As she brushes her hair behind her ear, I catch sight of a massive diamond on her finger—at least twenty carats, worth a few million dollars. So, her fiancé is definitely rich.

“You’re a modern-day sex symbol, dressed like you’re giving a speech at a funeral of a great-aunt you never met,” she comments. “I don’t get it.”

“Damn, is being brutally honest part of your job as a publicist?” I ask.

“I specialize in crisis management,” she explains. “I don’t have time to sugarcoat things. We’re on a tight schedule.”

“We’re already in crisis mode?” I ask, feeling genuinely annoyed with my brothers. “It’s only been a week.”

“We agreed that if one of us wasn’t confident you could save Bellamore and outsmart Asher, we’d call Stormy,” Weston clarifies .

“I’m sorry, but you need an expert. It’s too risky to wing it,” Easton adds. “I believe in you, but a road map is essential.”

“Why the black wardrobe? Explain it to me,” Stormy asks, completely ignoring my brothers.

“The media started calling me the Wednesday Addams of Fashion, so I embraced it.”

“Embraced it or just lay down and took it?” she asks. “Do you know who came up with that nickname?”

“No,” I reply, shaking my head.

“Josh Lustre,” she says. “That’s who I traced it back to. So, tell me this: will you keep playing his cards, or are you ready to play a different game? Your game.”

My breath catches in my throat. “Tell me your plan.”