Page 40 of Finding Lord Landry

NINE

KENJI

I was numb with shock.

Learning the extent to which Landry had lied to me—to everyone—was almost worse than being held hostage by gunmen in a foreign country. At least with the gunmen, it hadn’t been personal.

“No,” Landry—or whatever the fuck his name was—said between clenched teeth.

“No?” My nerves were fading away, to be replaced with sharp rage. “No? What? You’re going to keep me hostage, too? News flash, Landry. You don’t have a weapon.”

Which was, of course, a lie. His weapon was his stupid fucking mouth and the bullshit he spouted. Apparently, it had the ability to pierce deeply because I felt like I’d been stabbed in the chest and was bleeding out right now.

I was ashamed to admit that when Jamie had first called Landry by a different name, I’d been sure he’d made a mistake. That was how stupidly far I’d let myself go down the path of trusting Landry. Of letting myself believe in the possibility of a future with him. Now, I didn’t just feel betrayed and angry; I felt like a fool.

“I will send you home on our plane tomorrow,” Landry said. “After the pilots get a fresh sleep window. In the meantime, I need you to let me explain?—”

I ignored the strange thread of vulnerability in his voice. “Pretty sure I got all the explanation I needed from the circus back there. Did they miss anything? Did they get anything wrong? Let’s see… are you, in fact, Everett Davencourt? Yes or no?” I didn’t bother addressing the rumors of a fiancé since that one was obviously so far out of the realm of believable as to be laughable. And I knew from experience during Landry’s modeling career and Zane’s music career that the press would do anything to provoke a response, including telling a bold-faced lie.

Landry’s jaw ticked for a beat. “Yes.”

“And are you a fuckingviscount?” I spat the word like it was disgusting. Because the idea he was a British peer instead of the poor kid he’d pretended to be to the Brotherhood at Yale was unimaginable.Unforgivable.

“Kenji—”

“Yes or no, Lan…My lord!”

“There’s more to it than that,” he snapped, hands gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles were white. “I need to explain.”

“Was your fatherrecentlyestablished as an earl?” I asked, suddenly wondering if it was possible he was right. That there was a reasonable explanation behind the secret. “So recently, in fact, you simply haven’t had time to tell me about it?”

Landry’s nostrils flared. “No.”

“When, in fact, was the earldom established in your family?”

He didn’t speak.

The London traffic moved at a snail’s pace. I turned to look out the window as my head pounded.

Landry’s voice was subdued when he finally said, “Sixteen hundred and twenty-four.”

It took me a minute to realize he was referring to the year. It was impossible to wrap my head around. “Your family has been in the British peerage since the time of fuckingGalileo?”

I stared at his profile, wondering if there was a famous painting in a museum somewhere with the same noble features, passed down through aristocratic lines from important men who’d done any number of impressive or nefarious things throughout the years.

“All this time, no one knew?” It was unbelievable. “No one said, ‘Hey, that model in Times Square looks a lot like the nineteenth earl of whatever-the-fuck’? I just don’t understand.”

Suddenly, I realized maybe it wasn’t a secret. Maybe the Brotherhood had always known andIwas the one on the outside looking in. My head felt airless, and I made a strange sound in my throat. “Wait, do they know?” I asked in a strangled voice. “Does the Brotherhood know?”

Landry’s head snapped to me. His eyes widened in concern. “Kenj. Breathe, baby. Do you want me to pull over?”

“Do they know, Landry? Am I the only one who?—”

His hand grabbed mine and squeezed. “No! No. They don’t know. No one but my family.” He swallowed. “And, well… the King. And, uh, the prime minister.”

I yanked my hand out of his and buried my face in my hands. I needed to be alone. I needed space. My world was no longer safe in so many more ways than I’d expected only a week ago. “Drop me at a hotel, please.”

“I can’t do that, Kenji. The paps will find you, and they won’t give you any peace. There’s security at the house, and there’s plenty of room for you to have your own space. I promise.”

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