Page 77 of My Big, Fat, Accidental Billionaire Husband

“I’ve built my career on recognizing potential others miss,” I say, surprising myself with my candor. “With Tatiana... I saw someone who challenges me, who doesn’t accept the convenient version of things. There’s a clarity to her perspective that cuts through noise.” I pause, realizing how true this actually is. “In a world where most people tell me what they think I want to hear, she tells me what I need to know. Even when I don’t want to hear it. And that’s when... that’s when I knew she was the one I wanted to marry.”

The words hang in the air, more revealing than I intended. I think of our argument about the tabloid photos, how she stood her ground despite my anger. How right she absolutely was.

Ms. Sharma’s expression softens. “How romantic.”

Something uncomfortable shifts in my chest. The lie doesn’t feel entirely like a lie anymore, and that’s far more dangerous than any tabloid photo.

“Indeed,” Chung says, clearly not convinced. “And this relationship, it’s stable? Long-term? Our investment requires a steady hand at the helm.”

“Absolutely,” I assure him, ignoring the twist in my gut. “Nothing could be more solid.”

Just then, the private dining room door swings open. Jake moves immediately, but freezes when he sees who it is. The one person he has a standing order to let pass, no matter the circumstances.

My blood runs cold as my younger brother Nico strides in, his face a storm of emotion. The scarring on the left side of his face stands out starkly under the dining room lights.

“Don’t stop on my account,” Nico says condescendingly. “Please, continue discussing my brother’s stolen project.”

Fuck.

I rise slowly. “Nico. This is a private dinner.”

The investors stare in shock. I can practically see a billion dollars evaporating before my eyes.

“Private,” Nico laughs bitterly. “Like the conversations we had about Serenity Shores before the accident? When it wasmyconcept?Myvision?”

Mr. Chung’s eyebrows shoot up. Ms. Sharma leans forward slightly, suddenly very interested.

“Who is this?” Chung demands.

“Mybabybrother,” I say, working to keep my voice level. “Who should know better than to interrupt a business dinner.”

I turn to Jake, who’s already moving toward Nico. “Jake, please escort my brother to the bar. I’ll join him shortly.”

“No,” Nico says, his eyes wild. “I’m not going anywhere until we discuss what’s mine.”

The tension in the room is suffocating. I can see the investors exchanging glances, reassessing everything.

“Gentlemen, Ms. Sharma,” I say, turning to the investors. “Please excuse us for a moment. Family emergency. I’ll return shortly.”

Without waiting for their response, I grip Nico’s arm and steer him toward the door, Jake flanking us protectively.

“Fuck you, Dom,” Nico hisses, but allows himself to be guided out.

In the hallway, I spot a small private lounge. “There,” I tell Jake, nodding toward it.

Jake quickly checks the space and ushers us in, positioning himself near the entrance to ensure privacy.

The moment the door closes, I round on my brother. “What the fuck are you thinking? That’s a billion-dollar deal you just jeopardized.”

“Your billion-dollar deal,” Nico spits. “Built on my ideas.”

I run a hand through my hair, struggling to control my temper. “You’re drunk, Nico.”

“So what if I am?” He drops into a chair, his scarred face twisted in anger. “Doesn’t make what I’m saying any less true.”

Looking at him sends a familiar wave of guilt crashing through me. The scars. The pain in his eyes.

“What do you want from me?” I ask, my voice softer now.

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