Page 191 of Morally Black Betrothal
It was bad. Really bad.
Headline after headline about our fake engagement. The fact that I had paid her to pose as my fiancée. Nothing about the Huntingtons or the events of last night, thank God, but Jesus. How did these leeches get their hands on this story?
I shoved on my pants and undershirt before locating my own phone. Sure enough, there were too many texts to count, including several from Ruth bearing the same headlines.
Only two others caught my eye.
One was a Bloomberg link from Ruth that made my heart feel like it had stopped completely:
Black Prince Out, Bas Huntington In on the Blackguard Board
What the fuck was going on? BasHuntingtonwas taking my place instead of his dead son?
How?
With that in mind, the second text from my father was more expected.
Dad
Get into the office. Now.
“Brendan?”
I looked at where Simone had sat up in the bed, clutching her crinkled white sheets to her chest.
I crossed the room and kissed her, if only because I was having a hard time breathing, and she had become just as essential as oxygen.
When I was finished, we were both clutching each other’s faces, eyes closed, doing our best to survive.
“It will be okay,” I told her. “Everything will be okay.”
“Will it?”
She was afraid, but somehow…I wasn’t.
Everything was out in the open now. Whatever was waiting for me in that boardroom, I’d deal with it all.
So long as I had my real home to come home to in her.
The boardroom was packedwhen I arrived at the Blackguard offices late that afternoon. The usual board members were there, along with several executive officers and some faces I hadn’t anticipated.
Mainly one older gentleman with an immaculate fade and an expression hewn from steel.
Bas Huntington.
My father had resumed his place at the head of his table, and by the look of him, you’d never know he’d had a heart attack just a few months earlier. His thick silver hair was combed and gelled back, his charcoal suit perfectly pressed, and his black-ice eyes as sharp as ever.
Beside him sat Owen, looking every inch the heir apparent. Next to him, Liam and Shea rounded out the younger contingent. Ronan was the only one missing, as he was in Vegas yet again.
“Is this the Spanish Inquisition?” I asked as I closed the door behind me. “Or the welcoming committee?”
“Take a seat.” Dad pointed at the lone empty seat at the far end of the table. At least two seats removed from the rest of them.
Shea almost looked sorry for me.
On the other side of the table, a flash of sympathy crossed Liza’s face.
“I trust you’ve seen this?” Dad asked.
