Page 32 of Priceless

“Yup. Stay like that for three days and you’ll be around where I am now.”

“You’ve known about this for three days?”

I rolled my eyes. “That’s what you’re going to give me shit about? I barely had time to think about it myself while getting everything ready for Ellie’s wedding.”

“Sorry.” Trinity winced. “Still wrapping my head around it.”

“You said you had no idea who last night,” Isolde said. “Do you know now?”

I glanced around to make sure we weren’t attracting attention. Last night I hadn’t asked if it was a secret. I assumed it wouldn’t be, but I also didn’t know if they wanted to make some kind of big announcement. So I leaned forward, and they came to meet me. “The DuPont Pack.”

Trinity’s eyes went so wide they could have popped out. “Excuse the fuck out of me?”

Looking back and forth between the two of us, Isolde frowned. “Should I know who that is?”

“Probably not. I didn’t,” I said. “I imagine Rin does from work.”

Isolde’s mouth formed into a little ‘o.’ Trinity was a reporter, and though she’d recently been promoted, she’d previously done profiles of celebrities and interesting people. Part gossip, part human interest, part sex appeal.

“Yeah,” she said. “They’re billionaires. Like literal billionaires. They own half the clothing industry, and if rumor is correct, they do a lot of designing themselves. You know Cheria?”

Isolde blushed. Her Alpha Hawk had taken her to the lingerie store and practically bought out the place before a naughty photoshoot he had planned for her.

“Yeah. I’d say I remember.” Her voice was hoarse, and she took a drink as I giggled.

“They’re the ones who own it,” Trinity said. “They also own Caesura, the bridal company, Cliff’s Edge, Starling Designs, and Extasis. More, but I can’t remember what else. They’re rich enough that they get attention but also not famous enough to attract paparazzi all the time, thankfully.” She looked at me.

That was a good thing. I hadn’t even considered it when I did more research last night.

Rin cleared her throat. “They also happened to be smoking hot. They’ve had a couple of photo leaks, but nothing mind-blowing. Mostly people trying to make something out of nothing. You, my friend, are a lucky girl.”

Was I?

I did feel lucky, because of all the Alphas in the world, these men seemed kind, and Rin was correct about how hot they were. “I’m mostly relieved about the trust,” I told them. “Frank signed papers. I’ve already made copies, put them in my safe, and,” I leaned down and grabbed the copies out of my bag. “Will you each hold on to one?”

Isolde frowned at the envelope, but she took it. “Sure, but why?”

“I don’t trust them not to ‘lose’ it when the time comes.”

“Wait—” I saw Trinity’s mind working. Then I saw her reach the conclusion I had. “If he can sign it over early… fucker.”

“Ocean,” Isolde said. “Why do I get the feeling you have a lot more to tell us than just about this marriage? Which I still have a lot of questions about, by the way. But this first.”

“Because I do. And before I do, I just want to say I’m sorry. There are a lot of things I should have told you before now, but I didn’t want to make you feel as helpless as I have. You’d want to help, and there’s no way you can, so it didn’t matter. But now I’m getting out.”

Trinity raised her hand, already wanting a refill on her mimosa. “Looong brunch. Got it. Start from the beginning.”

We all burst into laughter. Fuck, I loved my friends. They always made me feel better, and telling them this felt like lifting a weight off my chest.

So I started at the beginning.

Trinity looked at me and slurped the bottom of her third mimosa. “If I didn’t love you so much, I’d kill you for keeping all of that to yourself.”

Isolde snickered, but she felt the same. “I’m sorry you felt like you couldn’t tell us.”

“You know it’s not that. I just…” I sighed and shrugged. “There’s nothing I can do. It’s shitty, and I’ll never understand why my parents made that choice, or why Frank and Laura never changed it if they could all this time. But this is helping. I’ll finally be able to get away from them. And don’t get me wrong. They’re awful, but let’s not pretend I don’t have a lot of things going for me. I run my own business and I live in a mansion. Things could be worse.”

Grabbing one of the dessert menus the waitress left, Isolde handed it to me. “You live in a mansion where you’re verbally and financially abused, and physically, based on the fucking corset. Just because you’re better off than someone else doesn’t negate your pain, O.”