Page 111 of Finding Lord Landry

The toasts, laughter, and celebration continued until the television crew finally arrived.

Kenji and I sat down with Anna Kincaid in Dev and Tully’s study. The built-in bookcases filled with legal books and a wide variety of novels made a perfect backdrop—serious enough for a news interview, cozy enough to remind us we were exactly where we belonged.

Her crew worked fast, setting up and rolling cameras before we had time to overthink. The interview passed quickly, and afterward, Anna stayed for dinner, where everyone wove in references to our beautiful December wedding.

The following morning, with all of us in our pajamas and sweats, we took turns reading out the headlines from the internet.

Landry Davencourt and Kenji Toma Face the Nation with Receipts!

The Earl’s Heir Fights Back Against Fake Marriage Claims!

Davencourt Heir Picks Love Over Legacy in Political Shockwave!

Grave Mistake? Lindsey Graves Caught in Royal Wedding Hoax!

A Modern-Day Fairy Tale? Landry & Kenji Prove Their Love

I had to admit, the last one was my favorite.

“Wait,” Zane said a moment later as he continued to scroll on his phone. “Landry, didn’t you model for Vencari?”

“Yeah, why?”

We were curled up on one of the big sofas together, enjoying coffee and leftover wedding cake, and I was busy walking my fingers under the edge of Kenji’s oversized hoodie to find warm skin underneath.

“Here’s a headline about that guy you got in the fistfight with,” Zane said. He cleared his throat and read:

From Designer Suits to Dirty Secrets: Vencari Power Player Accused of Misconduct!

Behind the Velvet Curtain: Vencari Talent Scout Faces Scandal Over ‘Special’ Model Selections!

I shot Kenji a glare. “Seriously?”

He shrugged. “You know what’s better than cold revenge? Really cold revenge. Icy. Freezer-burned, in fact.”

“Please tell me that’s the worst of it,” I begged. “We just got out of one scandal. I don’t want to hop right into another.”

Kenji shrugged but didn’t look up from his tablet. “Depends on which is worse. Losing your professional reputation or your hair? His barber might accidentally swap the shampoo for hair removal cream at his next appointment at four-thirty on Tuesday afternoon. Who’s to say?”

I mock-shuddered. “Remind me never to cross you, husband.”

He looked up and met my eyes. His mouth curved into a delicious, affectionate smile. “Just don’t withhold information from me ever again, and we’ll be fine.”

I threaded my fingers through his messy, beautiful hair. “Then I guess I should probably tell you, now that you’re officially my husband… I’m kind of a secret billionaire.”

Kenji didn’t even blink. Instead, he smirked, reached for his coffee, and murmured, “As Chaska Inira says, ‘Nobody likes a sarcastic asshole.’”

I laughed, pulling him in for a kiss. “That is absolutely not a real quote.”

Kenji kissed me back, smiling against my lips. “It is now.”

And over the course of our long marriage, it would become the Chaska quote used most often in our home.

EPILOGUE

KENJI – TWO MONTHS LATER

“A little bit of you makes me your man…”

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