Page 92 of Misdeeds of a Billionaire
I blinked, then shook my head. “I’m keeping my name.”
Winston just shrugged. Very much like his older brother, his presence had a way of stirring the air around him. Except, Winston didn’t impact me like Byron did. My heart never missed a beat around this man.
“You’ll have to battle that out with your husband.” Telling him it was non-negotiable was futile.Husband.The word hadn’t sunk in. Not yet. I wasn’t sure if it ever would. “What is it with you Swan girls and keeping your name?” he muttered.
I cocked an eyebrow, my gaze zeroing in on him. I had no idea what he meant by that comment. There were only two Swan girls—Billie and me. Only one of us was now married.
“Are you upset because Billie knocked you out?” I asked, hesitantly bringing up the incident in New Orleans.
He scoffed. “It wasn’t the first time.” Huh? “But then, you probably knew that.”
It was clear he wouldn’t discuss anything with me. Not yet. He clearly didn’t trust me. It didn’t really matter. I didn’t trust him either. And I wanted him out of here before Ares woke up. I wanted to ease him into all this. The shotgun ceremony left him slightly confused. He kept asking if we’d be going back to the hotel. There was no need for him to hear Winston’s odd conversations.
“Can I have my—” I stopped myself from sayinghusband. It was terrifying how easy it came. And we’d just gotten married. A marriage of convenience. Or maybe it was a forced marriage, though that didn’t sound right, either. I shook my head. None of it mattered now anyhow. “Can I have Byron’s cell number?”
“It’s already in your phone,” he said as he turned around to leave. “See ya.”
“Wait!” I called out. “What about… the diamond smuggler?”
He stopped at the door. “Already handled.”
And just like that, all my problems disappeared, but brand-new ones made an appearance.
The dining room was too big—too formal—for my taste.
My sister, Ares, and I stood in the doorway, feeling way out of place. Winston was already in the midst of his breakfast, drinking his coffee and reading a paper. Yes, the actual paper.
The big French window covered the entire south wall of the room, letting natural light pour in. The scent of eggs and sausage drifted through the air, making Ares’s stomach rumble.
“Hungry?” I smiled at him.
He nodded. “Oui.”
Darting a glance my sister’s way, I noted her clenched jaw, her usual soft brown eyes flashing with anger. Loathing. Bitterness.
Winston lowered his paper onto the table, his eyes traveling over us. They paused on Ares and I swore for two heartbeats, his gaze softened. There was something resembling longing there. It had been almost two weeks since our incident in New Orleans, but my sister’s words only now registered.
Winston Ashford had thought Ares was his son. I wondered how he’d felt when he discovered he was mine, and not Billie’s. My eyes found my sister. Her lips pressed in a thin line.
“Are you going to linger at the door or come in?” Winston grumbled, reminding me of the day I met Byron.
“Billie, are you okay?” I asked quietly, ignoring my brother-in-law.
She gave me a terse nod before the three of us made our way to the table. Just like me, Billie wasn’t chatty about what happened between her and Winston. Somehow, I had a feeling there was a lot more to their story than what my sister told me.
The three of us made it to the table, and the moment we sat ourselves, the servers came around. It was like being at a restaurant. Ares’s wide eyes tracked their movements, mesmerized by their efficiency.
A plate full of egg casserole and bacon was placed in front of us. My stomach tightened. I hadn’t eaten much last night—or yesterday in general—but I was starving now.
Ares’s big blue eyes met mine, watching me as if he could sense my tension. I smiled, stroking his head. Clearing my throat, I fed my son some of the casserole. He made a softmmmsound, and I couldn’t resist pecking him on top of his head.
“That good, huh?” I teased. “I better try it before you eat it all.”
He grinned and Billie gave me an amused look. “Since when do you eat breakfast?”
“It seems neither of the Swan sisters eat breakfast,” Winston commented, confirming my suspicion. “It’s a good thing we boys know how important breakfast is. Right, Ares?”
Two sets of blue eyes met. Ares gave a quick nod, then reached for his own fork and took a forkful into his mouth. He chewed and swallowed, then went for another.
