Page 71 of Marrying the Billionaire

“If you judge it necessary, then by all means,” I tell him noncommittally.

“We’ll see what comes of it.”

“Okay.” So that warranted an in-person trip? It’s usually him summoning me to his office.

“I spoke with Angelina. She said you and Serena are doing a great job convincing everyone about the marriage.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to thank him for the praise, but based on his expression, he didn’t intend it as a compliment.

“What do you know about her?” he asks casually. With Dad, though, nothing’s casual.

The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. Why’s he asking about Serena? “What do you mean?”

“Do you think she could have anything to do with what you suspect her father of?”

My jaw tightens. “No. She has nothing to do with Greg’s business.”

“But she’s after money.”

I stay silent, waiting for him to elaborate. He wouldn’t have made a statement like that if he didn’t have a reason.

“You put in a requisition yesterday to donate to the Montague Animal Foundation. A pretty sizable donation.”

“It’s a good cause. We contribute to charitable organizations all the time.”

“When it gets us seen. When we have a front row table or our name is on it. I’m not funding something that has Montague’s name on it.”

“We’ll send a notice to the media about it then. Make sure we get credit.” He stares at me, silent. “I’ll see if she’s willing to change the name of her nonprofit too.” Even though it’s her last name.

“What else has she asked you to pay for?”

What’s his problem? “Nothing.”

“Then what about these pricey renovations to your apartment?”

I clench my teeth harder. Does he have cameras on me or something? Shouldn’t he trust my judgment? “A pipe burst in the bathroom. Everything needs to be replaced.”

He nods, unimpressed with my explanation. Even though it’s the truth. “Nothing else then?”

I shrug. “Some clothes and other things that got damaged by water. She’s not high maintenance. She’s barely asked for anything. And also, she’s my wife. I’d think you’d want her to spend money. Look a certain way. She reflects on the Bishops.”

“Well, if this thing with Montague Media turns out to be serious, you should start distancing yourself from her now.”

I stare at him, unable to believe what I’m hearing. “I just spent the last week and a half getting closer to her.”

His narrowed eyes don’t bode well for me. “You mean making it look that way.”

“Right. But I’m not going to shun her. She’s my wife.”

“Archer, it’s a fake marriage. You don’t owe her anything.”

But I do. Even if we hadn’t recently embarked on this new physical side to our relationship, I still promised to take care of her. Promised not to leave her. And I don’t go back on my promises. I value my word meaning something.

“We’ll have to agree to disagree,” I say as diplomatically as I can.

His brows furrow, that vein in his forehead popping, the one only Gabriel makes appear. “Have you fucked her?”

Jesus. “No.” Technically. Though it’s only a matter of time at this rate. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

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