Page 9 of Marrying the Billionaire

His gaze narrows. “And now it looks like you were going behind your brother’s back having an affair with her.”

I fight the instinct to sputter. Any sign of weakness in front of Dad is grounds for punishment. Some lessons from childhood never leave you, no matter how old you are.

“I’ve spoken to Gabriel. He says he’ll work with us to minimize backlash.”

He stabs his finger against his polished oak desk. “He betrayed us.”

“If I’m seen out with him,” I continue, “it’ll help. Show there’s no animosity, no resentment on his part.”

“Send it to PR,” he grumbles, calming down. “See how they can spin it.”

“Serena’s moving into my apartment soon, we’ll attend some public outings together, some charity events. Enough to assure people we’re in… love.” The word leaves a funny taste in my mouth.

He sighs, folding his hands over his stomach. “I’ll have a judge I know change the marriage license. Make it legal.” He leans forward and presses the intercom button on his phone. “Vivian, send Angelina in.”

I guess that means we’re done with any personal conversation.

Our public relations expert comes in and briefs us on what her team has come up with, marketing us as star-crossed lovers. And in opposition to how Gabriel and Serena were labeled as an intensely private couple due to a lack of photos of the two of them together, her and I need to be a splashy, seen all about town pair, unable to hide our love for one another.

I swallow, unsure how well I can pull this off. Besides having no formal acting skills, I work at least sixty hours a week. I don’t have time to gallivant all across New York pretending to be in love.

But I was the one who offered myself up. I deserve this.

Now to just get Serena on board.

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