Page 7 of Marrying the Billionaire

“I did manage to grab a few things out of my apartment unnoticed.” He reaches in his pocket to extract a diamond ring set in a gold band, which he places carefully on the table.

I tug at the neck of my shirt, the air in the restaurant unbearably thick.

“Is that…?” Connor asks, wonder in his voice.

“I didn’t intend to give Serena this. She didn’t even want a ring from me at all. But I thought you might-”

“No,” I choke out. “Excuse me.”

I push back from the table, my chair screeching loud enough to cause several surrounding diners to look at me in alarm. Running a hand down the buttons of my Oxford shirt, I stride toward the bathroom, catching sight of my pale face in the mirror. Fuck.

I wash my hands, scrubbing harder than necessary, giving myself time to calm down. How did he even get Mom’s ring? I thought they buried her with that.

I take a long inhale through my nose and hold it for a count of five, then exhale slowly, repeating the process till I’m centered.

I avoid catching anyone’s eye as I make my way back to the table, and note that the ring is absent now, probably tucked away in Gabriel’s pocket. Good. That’s where it belongs. He should give it to whoever this woman is he’s in love with. Something like that doesn’t belong anywhere near this business deal of a marriage.

“Tell us what you have going on in the Philippines,” I request of Connor as I take a seat, even though he already spoke of it at the rehearsal dinner.

He glances between me and Gabriel before letting loose an easy grin, proceeding to regale us with a few new stories that are a bit more risque than the ones we heard previously.

The tension in my shoulders lessens, and I peek over at Gabriel to find his gaze on me, sharper than I’d like. My muscles tighten back up, but he remains silent, eventually turning his attention to Connor.

We settle into our familiar dynamic as lunch goes on, Gabriel the self-deprecating middle child, Connor the jovial, lighthearted baby. And me, the watchful eldest brother, a weight of responsibility on my shoulders these two will never understand.

I make my excuses an hour later to get to my meeting with Dad, hugging both my brothers before leaving. There’s a ready made reason for embracing Connor. With him being overseas, who knows when I’ll see him again?

But Gabriel? The one I hardly see despite living so close? The one I’ve come to realize I don’t know as well as I thought I did? The one I failed when Mom-

My body is stiff at first as my middle brother’s arms encircle me, but soon eases as he seems to sense what I can’t outright say.

“Thanks, Archie,” he whispers, a broad grin on his face as he lets go of me.

I roll my eyes, clearing my throat loudly. “I’ll see you… sometime.” It’s not like he’ll be around the office. Dad might even have him banned from there.

“Sometime,” he agrees, giving me a mock salute.

I meet James, my driver, at the curb, checking my email on my phone in the backseat as we drive the short distance to Bishop Industries. We’re almost there when a text comes through from Vivian with Serena’s number, my stomach sinking at the reminder that I need to call her.

My finger hesitates over the green phone icon on the screen, recalling how we parted last night. She told me I could leave whenever, her tone begging me to go. I know I wasn’t her first choice, but I hoped we could at least be civil to one another.

Best to rip it off like a band-aid then, bringing the cell up to my ear.

“Serena, hi,” I say as she answers. “It’s, uh, Archer.” I swallow, my throat suddenly parched.

“Hi.” Her voice is sweet, the same way it was last night thanking guests for coming to the wedding. Her green eyes had sparkled then, her lithe body leaning into me, the picture of a woman in love. A one-eighty from how it’d been in the hotel room afterward, muscles rigid, back hunched.

I shake my head to clear it. Why am I dwelling on that? “Are you able to meet me at Bishop Industries now? I’m heading into a meeting with my dad about next steps.”

“I’m across town. I just left the hotel.”

“Right.” I tap my thumb against my knee, flicking a piece of lint off my pants. “Well, we should probably go over some ground rules soon.”

“Rules?”

“You know, expectations we have of each other and the… situation.”

There’s silence from the other end, and I’m just about to repeat myself when she finally whispers, “Okay.”

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