Page 45 of The Billionaires' Gamble
I look away. A bright red bird hops across the ground, disappearing beneath a bush.
Kingston’s right.
“You’ve been looking for a way to prove you’re right. That you’re so much smarter now. But I think you’ve had it backwards.” He slips his phone from his pocket and taps the screen a few times. “Henry was an all-caps bully. Lucinda’s not that much better. But Katherine? Has she ever bullied you? Lied to you? Treated you like shit beneath her Louboutins?”
My brain latches on to his second question. It’s an almost comicala-ha, gotchamoment. “She didn’t tell me about the inheritance stipulation.”
He huffs a laugh. Like literally laughs in my face.
“She didn’t tell me either.”
Fuck. He has a point.
“You act like she held a gun to your head and walked you into a courthouse.”
I sigh, then run my hands down my face. “I thought you’d be happy. Less competition now.”
When I look at him again, he’s holding his phone out to me. “You’d be so fucking lucky to be married to her.”
His barb hits its mark. Shame sizzles across my skin. I take the phone, scared and hopeful of what I’ll find.
It’s a stream of texts between him and Katherine, starting with her saying:remind me I don’t look good in orange.
It’s all there in black and white. Their conversation. I glance at the date. The night before the auction. He asks what Cruella did now. I’m assuming Cruella is her mother. Katherine answered that she was signed up for the auction against her will.
Had she really told her mother not to?
She had no reason to lie about that.
The next message is from King.Wear the green dress.
Then,you’ll look like a million bucks and your ass will be the envy of every woman in Manhattan.
Holy shit.
How prophetic.
It’s like the universe read his text and made it happen. Twice.
“You were right. She looked incredible.”
I still see her standing on that stage, beneath the spotlights, when I close my eyes. Fear, worry, and bravado all rolled into one green, satin-wrapped package.
“Why didn’t she tell you? About the changes to the trust.”
King is her best friend. They’re tight. Their texts are further proof.
“She said she’s been trying to decide what she wants to do and didn’t want us to feel like we had to step up for her.”
What? What the fuck kind of answer is that? The people closest to her should want to step up for her.
I hand his phone back, more confused than ever.
“What do you mean, she hasn’t decided?”
Kingston shrugs. “She doesn’t have to get married, Gabe.”
“But if she doesn’t, she doesn’t get her inheritance.”
