Page 24 of Billion Dollar Vow

He rolls his eyes. “What did Warne say?”

“It’s down to me and Liam.”

“He’s a douchebag. Surely, he wouldn’t give it to him. You’re a much better fit.”

I hesitate, rubbing the back of my neck. “He… he will if Liam gets married first.”

His eyebrows pull together as he shuffles to the edge of the sofa. “What?”

“He thinks we’re both immature. He’s told me before that he thinks I pretend to like art.” The words sting, making me feel like a fraud even though I’ve dedicated my entire career to this.

“No way. That’s bullshit.”

“It’s true.”

“It’s your life. You haven’t had one because you dedicate all your time to the galleries.”

I nod, but Declan’s staring at his hands, missing my gesture completely. “He needs one of us to settle down, some family agreement. Once that happens, then he’ll choose.”

My hands are trembling slightly, and I cross my arms to hide it.

“You could date anyone. That’d be easy.”

“Liam was out tonight on a date.”

His hand flaps around in the air. “Well, call someone.”

“When was the last time I was with anyone more than once?” I ask, raising an eyebrow. If he reacts badly to this, it could ruin everything: our friendship, the gallery, my mother’s dream, my entire career plan.

He scratches his brow. “I don’t know… a year?”

“Two.”

And even before that, it wasn’t much. I’ve never had a reason to. I want the kind of love my brothers and parents have, so I’d rather wait and focus on making money.

“Fuck, that’s a long time.”

I laugh, but it quickly fades. “You could say that. But that’s not enough for Mr. Warne.”

“What do you mean?”

“He wants Liam or me to be married. He wants to hand over the gallery to a happily married man because he wants to make sure it will follow the family tradition.”

Declan bursts out laughing, then laughs harder until tears form in his eyes. “You’re kidding.”

I force myself to maintain eye contact, even as his laughter cuts deep. I clench my jaw, counting to ten before responding.

“I wish. I told him I was engaged.” The words leave a bitter taste in my mouth. Saying it out loud makes the lie feel even more pathetic.

“You did?” He laughs again. “Fuck, you’re digging yourself into a hole.”

“And that’s why I need to ask you something.” My heart pounds so hard, I can feel it in my fingertips. I’ve run through every possible scenario, exes, friends, dating apps, professional matchmakers, but none of them would work fast enough. I need someone who could convincingly play the part of a fiancée without raising suspicions. And there’s only one person who fits.

“You can't have my missus. That’s just fucking weird.”

I scrunch up my face. “I wasn’t asking for her.”

His laughter fades, and his expression shifts to confusion. There’s a moment of silence between us as his eyes narrow slightly. “Then who?”

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