“You’re good enough for this. Greg Montague wants the connections the Bishop name can give him through his daughter.”

“So invite him to be a member of one of your billionaire clubs. I don’t see why I’m being roped into this.”

He purses his lips, ignoring my suggestions.

“Put him on the board of the company. Make him a VP of something made up. That should satisfy him.”

The vein in his forehead pulses intensely. Ah, I knew it would happen eventually. “Once I acquire Montague Media, he’ll no longer have anything to do with it. He just doesn’t know it yet.”

“So, what, he thinks it’s just a merger? That he’ll still be head of that part of the company? And then you’ll dump him and I’ll be stuck with him as a father-in-law?”

He’s silent as he stares at me, folding his hands over his stomach as he leans even further back in his leather chair.

“That’s not your problem, though, is it? Especially if Serena’smywife.” He actually might have to come in contact with the Montagues if it was Archer or Connor marrying her, but not me. Dad has little to no reason to see me under normal circumstances.

“This is the way I’ve decided you can best help the company. Marry Serena or move out of the apartment I pay for and cut up your credit cards.”

Where the hell would I go? The square footage alone of my place at Bishop Plaza would make most New Yorkers weep with envy. And the limit on those credit cards…

“You’d seriously cut me off? Your own son?”

“I’ve got two others. And they’ve made me a hell of a lot more proud than you ever have.”

I wince, despite my earlier determination not to let him see how he affects me. Why bother competing, though, when Archer has always done everything better? And now apparently my younger brother has surpassed me too.

“I’ll just stay at Connor’s place while he’s overseas. He’ll spot me any money I need.”

“I’ll make both of your brothers aware that if they give so much as one penny to you, they’ll be cut off too.”

There’s a hardness in his face implying this is no idle threat. He means it.

“What’s your problem with me? Do you really hate me that much?” The question slips out unwittingly.

“Hate implies too strong of an emotion,” he replies easily.

I stare at him for a moment then turn around to right my chair, sitting down heavily in it. “Fine. Whatever,” I shrug. “I’ll marry her.” Serena Montague. The Ice Queen of Redmond Prep. What the hell has she even been up to in the last ten years? “But don’t expect me to be some model husband.”

“Oh, you will be. I want wholesome from you. This girl has turned you around. You’re now a one woman man.”

I hold back a hysterical burble of laughter. “That’s how you’ll spin it? She’s reformed me?”

“Yes. And you’re going to be part of the wedding planning. The Manhattan Herald will feature you all over town looking at venues, tasting cakes, picking out flowers. You can’t wait to marry the love of your life,” he points at me again viciously. “Give us some positive press for a change. Everyone loves a love story.”

“Do you seriously think my acting skills are up to this?”

“Go take a class then.” He shuffles some papers in front of him that have absolutely no business being shuffled, a sure sign he’s done with this conversation. “First meeting with the wedding planner and the Montagues is tomorrow morning at nine in the boardroom. You’ll be there.”

He already hired a wedding planner? Before I even agreed? Am I that predictable?

“Yes, sir,” I salute him sarcastically.

He grimaces but otherwise ignores me. “Go get the details from Vivian.”

I make my way out, glancing at the incomparable New York City skyline. He has an even better view here than my apartment does.

“Gabriel,” he barks when he notices me dawdling.

I pick up my feet and stop at Vivian’s desk outside his office, letting the heavy door slam shut behind me, her face filled with sympathy.