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BILLIE

TWO DAYS LATER

“ H ey, sis,” Weston says, pulling me into a side hug outside the restaurant.

“Gucci,” I say, running my hand across the lapel of the three-piece suit, feeling the smooth silk on the inside. “Looks very nice.”

“Thanks. You picked it out,” he tells me.

He had a meeting at the office—yes, even on a Saturday—and offered to meet me for lunch so we could catch up.

“Proof I have good taste. I assume Easton is dressed the same?”

He laughs. “Yep. Now that Lexi, Easton’s lovely and pregnant wife, is in on the prank, he’s very confused.”

Weston likes to wear the same thing as Easton to drive him nuts. Even though they’re forty, Weston enjoys a nice twin joke. Easton, not so much.

I snicker. “That’s so wrong.”

“Lexi gives me a heads-up if he randomly changes his mind to throw me off. Easton thinks I have sensors hidden in his closet or on his hangers. ”

“Sometimes, the simplest answer is the best,” I tell him. “But Easton will complicate anything.”

“Kinda like you,” he says, leading the way to our regular table at our favorite Italian restaurant.

Our grandfather—may he rest in peace—loved this place. He said it was the only Italian food that tasted exactly how it had in Italy the first time he visited. This is also where Weston and Easton decided to go their separate ways for college. I was barely nine when they moved away, but they visited me often. They’re the best big brothers a girl could have.

Gretchen—one of the servers who’s worked here since I was a kid—approaches us with a smile as she sets breadsticks and glasses of ice water before us. “Your usual?” She glances between us.

“Yes, please,” Weston and I say in unison.

“Of course,” she says before walking away.

“How’s being married this time around?” I ask Weston, ripping the paper from my straw and blowing it toward him. It darts into his cheek, and he laughs it off.

He’s been on top of the world since he married his secret best friend, Carlee.

My head is still spinning from the revelations I learned about their past. I’m thrilled for him and only a tad jealous that he found the love of his life so quickly after his dirty divorce. Even Easton, who I thought would never get married, found his queen. And then there’s me, single and still trying to bury my breakup with Josh Lustre.

I ended things with him nearly fifteen months ago. In the fashion world, we were the equivalent of Selena Gomez and Justin Bieber. Everyone said we were a fairy-tale couple, and many still won’t accept that Josh and I are over. Forever. We will never get back together.

“Part of me never believed life could be like this,” Weston admits, pulling me from my thoughts. “Love actually exists. Who would’ve fucking known? ”

I give him a smirk. “I’ll take your word for it.”

There was a time when I believed in love, but not anymore. I trusted Josh. I would’ve married him. Still, to this day, I don’t know how I could’ve been so stupid when the signs were there. He never loved me. He used me. He’s still using me.

“At your age, I was an unbeliever too. But when you meet the one , you’ll immediately know. When I looked at Carlee for the very first time, I felt an awakening. Still, to this day, she stirs every emotion inside me, and she’s all I can think about. Even right now, she is front and center in my mind. I didn’t know what it was like until I had it. Forty-year-old me realizes I’ve never really experienced love until now. Finally,” he whispers, lost in his thoughts, grinning ear to ear.

“Insightful.” I give him an exaggerated yawn.

He chuckles. “Don’t be a hater.”

“Sorry. It’s hard for me to feel anything because I’m so anti-relationship right now. I’m scared I might be this way forever. Stunted by heartbreak.”

“You’ll fall again.”

“Actually, I’m good,” I tell him. “Thanks though.”

“Fine. How’s work?” He abruptly changes the subject to another one I’d prefer to avoid.

Usually, when my brothers ask me this question, I play it off as if everything were great. Weston has seen through the facade I built around Bellamore for months. I can’t hide it anymore. I’m in over my head—that much I can admit.

Weston watches me as he takes a sip of water.

I suck in a deep breath. “Bellamore’s sales have dropped by half. I’m trying to stay calm.”

“Do you have a cash flow issue?” he questions. Weston’s a genius with numbers.

My heart races. “It’s Josh. He’s still ripping off our designs and changing his launch dates to cross with ours.”

“How is he getting this information?” Weston lowers his voice .

“Not sure. Our designs are created in-house by some of the best illustrators in the world, who have signed exclusivity contracts with us. I hired a private IT firm to audit our computers to ensure we weren’t hacked. We weren’t. I’m at a loss. I don’t know how this keeps happening.”

“When did it start?”

“I think it was happening when we were together, but I only noticed it after I left him,” I state, shaking my head. “I’ve heard he still talks about me at parties. He tells everyone he’s still in love with me. I’m sick over this.”

“Fuck him,” Weston hisses. “This is psychological warfare.”

I nod. “I know. I don’t need you to do anything, Weston. Please do not get involved. I just need your advice because you’re obligated to give it to me as my super-intelligent big brother. What would you do?”

“You forgot to mention handsome,” he says, interlocking his fingers in front of him. “Hmm, what would I do if I were in your position?”

I brace myself for the bomb he’ll drop.

He waits a single beat. “I’d hire Banks.”

I glare at him. “Not an option.”

Weston shrugs. “Did you know Josh offered Asher a three-billion-dollar contract? Josh knows what Asher is capable of. Do you?”

“I’m not afraid of him,” I say between clenched teeth.

“And that will be your downfall, little sis.” Weston tilts his head. “You should be very afraid of Asher. He’s the Boogeyman of Business. If Josh’s goal is to buy Bellamore?—”

“For the last fucking time, it’s not for sale.”

My brother gives me a devilish smirk. “I’m aware. But some assholes in this world believe everything has a price tag. Josh is one of them. So is Asher. So am I. Together, they will ensure you sell before they bankrupt you. When you’re desperate, they’ll swoop in and buy you out ninety percent below market value, then become the saviors who rescued your failing company, even if they were the ones who had forced you to drown. You’re not cutthroat enough for this, Billie. Asher is, especially when he believes in something. Your hatred for each other is more than enough to fuel him. He’d get satisfaction from your downfall, and that alone makes me scared for you and Bellamore.”

Our spaghetti and meatballs slide before us, and suddenly, I don’t feel hungry. Gretchen sets a stack of napkins on the table’s edge and leaves us to our conversation.

I return my attention to Weston. “I don’t know why you’re friends with someone like Banks.”

Weston twirls spaghetti around his fork. “He’s a great friend. Trustworthy. Generous. Doesn’t have a greedy bone in his body. Asher cares about other people and the environment. He always puts himself last and would give anyone the shirt off his back if they asked. Well, everyone except you. I think he’d let you rot. Plus, he’s really fucking fun at parties and to travel with.”

“Ugh.” I pick up my fork. “I’m sure he is.”

The noodles and sauce are steaming hot. I mix them around so they’ll cool faster.

“He won’t help me unless I beg.” I take a small bite. “I refuse to humiliate myself for his entertainment.”

My brother bursts into laughter. “He did mention that. Didn’t realize he was serious.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. He’s telling people this?”

“Before you get pissed, it was just us and Nick. Last week, I confronted him about the Lustre deal and asked what it’d take for him to work with you instead.”

“Please tell me you didn’t,” I whisper.

“I did, and he knew I hadn’t asked on your behalf, but because I was genuinely concerned. Anyway, he said you’d have to beg, and I told him he was being a facetious asshole. I think he knows you’d never do that. ”

My jaw clenches tight. “Good. But it hasn’t stopped him from posting a thirty-foot sign across his office.”

Weston shrugs. “The two of you are so much alike; it’s disgusting. Except he’s nicer. Laughs more. Enjoys a joke.”

I glare at him. “Don’t make me add your name to my shit list. There are only a few more available spots.”

“Between the two—Asher or Josh—who’s listed first?”

I take a sip of water, as my throat feels dry. “Right now, they’re sharing the number one spot. Knowing two people I can’t stand might join forces feels like a nightmare. Am I the supervillain, or are they?”

“Sometimes, I think it might be you,” he says, winking. “Also, Asher shouldn’t be beside Josh on your shit list,” Weston says between bites. “What happened between you and Josh was personal.”

“Banks has been a terror in my life for thirteen years—a decade before Josh and I officially met. He made my life at Stanford hell, and it’s never stopped. Trust me when I say, he’s more than earned his place at the very top. You know what? Let’s forget I mentioned any of this. Thanks for the suggestion.” I roll my eyes.

“When you decide you’d like a lesson at Petty University, you know where Easton and I are. We’re the masters of petty.” He gives me an evil grin.

“I might,” I tell him. “Do you think I have a chance at beating them?”

He smiles. “I don’t know. We will help you strategize. The three of us are smarter than the two of them, even with Banks’s connections.”

“And not a tad modest either.”

“Why should I be? It’s the truth,” he says, studying me. “You need a vacation.”

I chuckle. “I’d love a vacation. However, there is no rest for the wicked.”

Honestly, I’m thankful for the subject change. I’m tired of having Banks at the center of my conversations this week, and it’s primarily because of Josh. He wanted my attention, and now he’s got it. They both do.

“Apparently, the house in the Hamptons is ready for guests,” Weston says.

“Dad didn’t tell me.” It used to be my tradition to go up there and escape for a weekend once every quarter.

“Because you haven’t been since you broke it off with Josh. Why?”

“I don’t want to have this conversation,” I say.

“Okay,” he says.

While we eat, Weston discusses a surprise art show he’s hosting over the summer, featuring Carlee’s favorite artists. She won’t know until the day it launches, which I find adorable. He’s painting special pieces that will be revealed on opening night as a gift to her. Their love is what most of us dream of finding.

“I heard Louis contacted you.” Weston changes the subject again. “You cannot afford to get caught up with him, dear sister.”

“It’s Prince Louis.” I glare at my brother, knowing I’m going to murder Harper, considering she’s the only person who knows.

“You cannot date him,” Weston whispers. “He’s a man-whore.”

“I can date whoever I want, whenever I want, so drop the scary big-brother shit. That man will one day rule an entire country. He’s more than capable of ruling my body. I’d probably have a fiancé by now if it wasn’t for you. It’s getting old, and so am I. I’m almost thirty-one.”

“No one will ever be good enough for my baby sister.” He wipes his mouth with a napkin, growing annoyed with me. “You deserve only the best. Someone who can match you intellectually.”

“It’s bad timing for a long-distance relationship, and I explained as much to His Royal Highness, the Prince of Wales. However, he doesn’t like to take no for an answer.”

“I wonder why. He’s spoiled.” Weston rolls his eyes. “But when it comes to love, remember, the wrong time is sometimes right.” It’s what’s inscribed on the bottom of my grandfather’s watch that Weston wears daily. “Except for when it comes to Josh. Fuck him. It was the wrong time for him.”

I chuckle. “Spare me the I told you so .”

Weston decided he hated Josh within the first five minutes of meeting him. In the end, my brother was right. Weston’s great at reading people and their intentions, and he never once trusted Josh, even when I begged him to. It’s why whoever I end up with has to have my brothers’ blessings, or it’s a no-go. They see red flags in people before I do and will not surround themselves with those who are problems.

After we’ve eaten too much pasta, we ask for to-go containers. Weston pays, and we stand.

“Did you get the laptop?” I ask, pulling him into a side hug.

“Yes.” He squeezes me tighter. “Thank you.”

“You’re not mad?”

“No,” he says with a smile and pulls away. He leads the way toward the exit. “Work with Asher. What he can do for you is worth begging for. Still attending the CEO ball tonight?”

“Yep, after I go home and take a nap,” I admit.

“Great. Showing your face publicly is enough to send a message to everyone watching. It tells them you’re not backing down or afraid. When someone wants you to disappear, the only option is to shine like a diamond. You’re a Calloway. Act like it,” he says, smiling as paparazzi snap photos of us leaving the restaurant.

“I’ll make you proud,” I whisper.

“You already have,” he admits.

The flashes continue, and I cover my face, wishing we still had our privacy. “I’ll never get used to this.”

“You will,” he says, squeezing my shoulder. “It’s just a matter of time.”

“Do not put that curse on me,” I snap back.

“See you tonight,” he yells over his shoulder, laughing as he walks away .

My driver arrives, and I escape into the back seat of the SUV, thankful to be alone.

Easton and Weston were raised in the limelight, and cameras were constantly shoved in their faces. My parents were more careful with me, and I was barely in the public eye because I was always over sexualized.

I look like my supermodel mother, with the same height and features, and teen magazines took notice of my style. I became the elusive diamond princess and was treated like royalty. My outfits were picked apart, fan clubs were formed, and accounts on social media started doing breakdown hauls of my clothes so others could copy my look. I became a teen icon without trying, which also put a lot of unnecessary scrutiny on me at a young age.

I was quickly given media training and a publicist, even if I wasn’t allowed to have social media accounts. I was isolated and lost myself in romance books, academics, and fashion. Harper was my only real friend, growing up.

I’d dream about the clothes the princesses and princes wore and started drawing at a young age. My mother wanted me to model, just like her. After a few shows during my teenage years, I knew I wanted to design the clothes, not showcase them. Watching my mother and her beautiful friends walk the runway in glittery dresses only inspired me to create them.

While I was kept in a boarding school away from the world, my brothers—mostly Weston—were splashed across every tabloid worldwide. Walking in the shadows of the diamond princes has always been difficult, but I’ve managed it gracefully. I was trained to.

Fifteen minutes later, the SUV slows in front of my penthouse. While I have several properties in the city, this is my escape, and it feels most like home. It’s full of things I love—from the vintage furniture to the pastel walls and high ceilings. It’s not Billionaires’ Row or the Park Towers, but I avoid that area as much as possible. I prefer to surround myself with artists and fashionistas who see beauty in things that are often overlooked. Luxury doesn’t impress me. Authenticity does.

When I enter, I immediately strip out of my clothes and shower. I stand under the water, washing away the day and the dread creeping up.

I’ll be dateless tonight. The tabloids will discuss it tomorrow, especially if Josh has a twenty-something hanging on his arm. My relationship never mattered to anyone until I was with Josh Lustre, and now everyone’s concerned about who I’ll end up with next.

It’ll be a miracle if I don’t skip tonight.