Page 14 of Misdeeds of a Billionaire
Byron
My brother had a smug grin on his face that he tried to hide.
I wanted to wipe it off his face with my fist. He thought he had it all figured out in his buzzed state. He didn’t know jack shit.
“Not all of us can have exciting medical careers,” I said dryly. I wouldn’t say my career was boring, exactly. After all, we did run an empire, but if she hadn’t heard of the Ashford family, I’d rather leave her in the dark. It was really refreshing running into a woman who had no fucking idea who I was.
Odette snickered softly. “So you’re telling me you’re boring, huh?”
“I never said that,” I drawled. “Don’t jump to conclusions.”
She rolled her eyes, clearly unimpressed. “Well, whatever boring thing you do for a living must be a secret since you’re refusing to share it.”
“I’m a businessman,” I told her, keeping it vague.
Her lips curved into a grimace. “Wow, it’s even worse than boring.”
Winston and River laughed and it took all my restraint not to smash their skulls and knock them out. The audience was really unwelcome right now.
“Well, I hear France is a free country, so you are entitled to feel any way you want.” My tone came out sharper than I intended. For fuck’s sake, this woman had me losing the even temper I was known for.
Thrown off by my harsh tone, she shot me a curious look. Almost as if she were trying to figure me out like I was her next puzzle. Then she shrugged, and I couldn’t help but wonder what was going on in her head.
“Well, I guess it was nice seeing you again,” Odette said—or was it Maddy—her eyes darting between me and River. If it were any other woman, I wouldn’t have minded. But her… I didn’t want to share her. I didn’t fucking want anyone even looking her way.
Except, this woman wanted a ménage à trois, based on the conversation I’d overheard between her and her sister.
I cracked my knuckles under the table as I watched her bare back saunter from me, keeping my expression blank all the while. One hint of weakness and Winston would be on me like a dog with a bone. Fucker!
“She seems like marriage material,” Winston remarked.
I shot him a glare. Someday I might really murder him. Marriage was never on my to-do list. Of course, our father had gotten it up his ass lately that one of his sons should get married. All eyes were now turned to me, since I was the oldest.
I’d rather cut my dick off with a butter knife than marry someone to appease my father.
He already had his sights set on who it should be too. As if. Nicki Popova was the last person on earth I’d marry. I’d rather shut my dick in a door than connect my family with theirs. The Popova family had a long history in politics and a list of connections even longer. Our family had only been in politics for two generations. My grandfather ventured into it, and his son—my father—followed. Grandfather had morals and standards; my father didn’t. He’d sell his soul to the devil in order to get what he wanted.
The presidency.
“Adorable, smart, young. If you don’t want her, I’ll take her.” Winston loved to get on my nerves. It was his specialty. “Unless you’d rather marry Nicki.”
“Would you shut up, Winston?” I downed my cognac in one go. Something about the shackles of marriage with Nicki had me breaking out in hives.
“What?” My brother raised his glass. “To love, marriage, and kids.”
I could see right through him. He pushed for me to get hitched so there was no danger of Father putting any kind of pressure on him. I wasn’t even sure why he worried. None of us ever listened to the crap Father said. Senator Ashford was not someone to look up to nor did any of us heed his advice. He had been more than content to spread his seed, abandon Alessio and Davina—two children he had out of wedlock—and he never lost any sleep over it. Even before Mother died, he was never around much, leaving my siblings in my care. I could have forgiven all that, but not what it cost us. Our baby brother, Kingston, and almost our baby sister.
Our father lost his head-of-the-family status when Kingston went missing, although it wasn’t until recently that we knew for certain it was due to his “dealings” with the mob. Our family was glued together only for appearances’ sake and to ensure our empire remained intact.
“So are we thinking about marriage?” River asked.
“I’m not,” Winston deadpanned. “Byron is. Nicki would have married him, but he kicked her off the boat before she tried to kill him with sleeping pills. So she’s out of the question.”
Breathe, Byron. Breathe.
“You already know my thoughts on that woman.”
Nicki wasn't marriage material. At. All. I suspected Father hoped for Popova support so it’d help his campaign for reelection. He just refused to give up his dream of becoming the next U.S. President. There was no chance in hell I’d ever allow any children or wife of mine to be put through that. Gold digger or not.
