Chapter 58

CHAPTER 58

ZAYN

S omehow, I fucked it up again.

I was mentally kicking myself. Just when things were starting to feel like they might shape into something real, I went and put my foot so deep into my mouth, I was choking on it.

How did I not see that accusing Marigold's dad of spilling the beans was a bad idea? I mean, yeah, someone close to us had let the truth slip. But it was like I kept tripping over my own dick when it came to Marigold.

In general, I tended to be blunt and to the point. My world was business. High-stake acquisitions and deals didn't leave room for sugarcoating. I was rough during regular conversations, and I had been downright reckless when speaking with the woman I loved.

Relationships were so foreign to me. I didn't know how to hold a woman's heart with soft hands. I wasn't accustomed to being gentle with my words. A thought popped into my head, and it came out of my mouth a second later.

I had been told more than once I lacked a filter. Normally, that was a great thing. With Marigold, it always ended in disaster.

The magazine article flashed through my mind again, the words gold-digger and fraud ran on a loop through my head. It didn't take a genius to figure out that someone had sold us out. The engagement was supposed to be a private affair—a business arrangement, sure, but private nonetheless. The only people who knew the full story were the ones closest to us. But who would stab us in the back like that?

Why would anyone reveal the truth? Money was an obvious motive, but that ruled out my family. Someone could have done it out of spite, but I had no enemies I could think of, and neither did Marigold.

I rubbed my hand over my face. The longer I thought about it, the more confused I got. Everyone we'd told was loyal—or so I thought. My family wouldn't have done it. They hated the press more than I did, and they'd never stoop that low for attention. So, who was left?

As much as I tried to riddle it out, I kept coming up blank. And after the argument with Marigold, I wasn't exactly in the best mental state to play detective. The damage was done anyway. To repeat a phrase I had heard in Wyoming, there was no un-fucking this pig.

I checked my phone, hoping for something to take my mind off the shitstorm I'd created. I saw a message from Carlos. He was in town with Elaine before heading back to Green River for Christmas. He'd texted, Meet me for a drink. You probably need one or seven .

I chuckled despite myself and quickly texted him back. We agreed to meet at a quiet bar called Oasis. It was one of the few that didn't have blaring music and half-naked women roaming about. Somewhere I could avoid photographers. Those piranha could smell blood in the water from miles away.

An hour later, I walked into the low-key bar with a desert theme, spotting Carlos right away. He was leaning back in his bamboo chair, looking as relaxed as ever. The guy had a way of making everything seem like no big deal.

I dropped into the chair across from him, trying not to let him see how miserable I felt. "I was told there would be drinks."

"Well, well, well. If it isn't the world's most eligible bachelor," Carlos teased. Grinning, he took a sip of his drink.

"You're hilarious," I muttered, flagging down the waitress. "I need scotch and lots of it."

She gave me a sympathetic smile—God, was it that obvious?—and headed off to the bar. I should have told her to bring the bottle.

"So," Carlos said, leaning forward with his arms on the table. There was a look about him. He was almost glowing.

"You're too in love for me to hang out with you right now," I growled.

My friend laughed. "Being a newlywed is awesome. I'm not trying to rub it in your face or anything, but that woman has filled my life with joy."

"I'm happy for you two," I said, nodding. "I also hate your stupid smiling face."

He laughed again. "Judging from your sour mood, I assume you're all caught up on the news."

"News." I snorted. "What a world we live in where my love life is news."

"Real news is depressing," he said with a shrug. "People want to know about weird billionaires and who they're smooching."

I frowned. "I'm not weird."

He laughed and looked me in the eye. "I'm your friend and I don't hold it against you, but that is not a normal business transaction. Paying a woman to get engaged is weird billionaire shit."

The waitress returned with my drink. I downed half of it in one go. Carlos nodded and asked the girl for another round. She headed off and he leaned back again, crossing his arms.

"So, what's the deal? I saw the article. You guys get hacked or something?"

I shook my head. "I think someone close to us let it slip. That's the only explanation. But I don't know who. None of the people we told would do this. Not intentionally or maliciously, I don't think."

"I hope you're not thinking it was me or Elaine."

"Hell no. I know you couldn't give a shit about my love life."

"Elaine certainly does," he said with a hint of warning in his voice.

"Trust me, I know I'm on everyone's shit list right now. I don't know who would do this. It's fucked up."

Carlos shrugged. "Money makes people do crazy things, man. If someone saw a path to profit, they probably jumped on it."

"I get that," I said, pushing my glass aside.

"Maybe it was just a rumor that ran wild."

"I suggested her father," I said.

He sucked in a breath and shook his head. "Whoa, not smart, dude."

"No shit." I sighed, burying my face in my hands. "It's all a mess, and worse, it's hurting Marigold."

"You care about her, don't you?"

"I love her. I told her. She loves me back." I shook my head. "Then this blew up and drove a wedge between us."

"Nothing that can't be fixed," he said. "This will all blow over in the news. The next weird billionaire will say something stupid on social media, and no one will remember this nonsense."

"She's leaving," I said. "And now she's pissed at me for suggesting her father might have revealed our secret."

I downed the rest of my drink.

"I doubt it would be her father," he said. "I don't think he would want his daughter to be raked over the coals like she is right now."

"I don't think he would reveal it on purpose," I said. "None of my friends or family would. But things can slip inadvertently. That's how you found out, after all."

"What if they didn't even know it was true?" Carlos said, tilting his head in thought. "What if they said it because it was a dramatic scoop that just happened to be true? Like some mean girl trying to start shit. It was just unfortunate they were just a little too on the nose."

I blinked. That was a new angle. "You think someone just took a wild guess and got lucky?"

Carlos shrugged again. "Journalists and gossip columnists throw darts at the board all the time. Maybe someone was shooting in the dark and hit the bullseye."

It seemed unlikely. Too coincidental. But then again, stranger things had happened. "Maybe," I muttered. "But I still think someone knew exactly what they were doing."

Carlos rubbed his chin, nodding slowly. "Alright, so if someone deliberately leaked the truth, what's their angle? What's the motive?"

I stared into my drink, trying to come up with an answer. "It could be money," I admitted. "But if that's the case, they didn't go all the way. They didn't get their hands on the legal document. That would've been front-page news. And they never came to me with an ask. If they're trying to blackmail me, they're doing it wrong."

Carlos whistled low. "Yeah, that would've been a whole new level of bad. Lucky for you, it stayed under the radar."

"For now," I said. "But it's only a matter of time before someone digs deeper. And if they find out the real story?"

Carlos gave me a look. "You're screwed."

"Yeah."

The waitress returned with our second round. I nursed the new drink, my brain going in circles. Every time I thought I had a lead, it fizzled out. The article wasn't some random hit job—it felt deliberate, calculated. But who would've known enough to take that shot?

"You know what's also weird?" Carlos said, breaking the silence. "If someone wanted to hurt you, why didn't they go for the jugular? Like you said, they didn't mention the contract. They didn't completely blow up your deal."

I frowned. "What are you getting at?"

"Maybe it's not about destroying you," Carlos mused. "Maybe it's about something else. Some kind of leverage. Or a warning."

I stared at him, trying to make sense of that. "A warning for what?"

He shrugged again, looking thoughtful. "Hell if I know. But think about it. Whoever leaked this could've gone nuclear. They didn't. Why hold back?"

I sat back, considering his words. It made a twisted kind of sense. Whoever did this didn't want to blow everything wide open. Maybe they wanted me to know they could —but didn't, for whatever reason. They planted the seeds but chose not to reveal everything.

Before I could spiral any further into paranoia, my phone buzzed. I pulled it out and checked the notification, feeling my stomach drop. It was a text from Hayes. The board pulled out of the nonprofit. We're back at square one.

I slumped in my chair, letting my head fall back. Great. Just fucking great.

Carlos raised an eyebrow. "Bad news?"

I waved my phone at him. "The board pulled out of the nonprofit. Probably thanks to this damn article. Now we've got nothing."

Carlos whistled. "Damn, man. That's rough. When you fuck up your life, you don't mess around."

"Tell me about it." I shook my head, feeling the weight of everything crashing down at once. "This whole thing's a joke. I never should've spun the lie. I never should've dragged Marigold into this."

Carlos frowned, leaning forward again. "Hey, don't go blaming yourself. You were trying to help her, right? Things just got messy."

"Messy?" I let out a humorless laugh. "Carlos, it's a fucking disaster."

"Well, yeah," he said. "No one is arguing with that."

I snorted a laugh. "Thanks."

"The real question is, what's next? What are you gonna do about it?"

I sighed, rubbing my temples. "I don't know. I need to talk to Marigold. But after the way I left things with her, I don't know."

"Ah, the classic Bancroft exit," Carlos said, smirking. "Let me guess—you said something stupid?"

"Basically."

He shook his head, chuckling. "You've got a real talent for screwing things up with women, man. It's almost impressive."

"At least I'm consistent," I muttered.

"Look, just talk to her," Carlos said, his tone more serious now. "You guys need to be on the same page if you're going to get through this. And trust me, she's probably just as confused as you are. You guys need to put your heads together."

I nodded, knowing he was right. "Yeah. I'll talk to her. Or I'll try to. I'm not sure she wants to hear anything from me. And every time I open my mouth, I dig myself a deeper hole."

"I'm sorry. For what it's worth, I thought you guys looked good together."

"Thanks. How are things with you and Elaine? I thought you were heading back to Spain."

"We are," he said. "Wyoming first. Then to Spain to give my parents the news."

"News?"

The man's face lit up. "We're pregnant."

"Congratulations!" I smiled. "No wonder you're all glowing. I thought you had just gotten laid. I didn't realize you had that new daddy shine on you."

"Thanks, man. It's still early days, but we're really excited."

"I'm happy for you both. Despite the chaos in my own world, you all deserve this."

"Yeah." He grinned. "We're looking forward to starting our family."

We talked a bit more with him telling me all about their plans to fix up a nursery.

Then Carlos finished his drink, standing up and clapping me on the shoulder. "Good luck, man. You'll figure it out. You always do. Maybe write down what you're going to say first."

I forced a smile. "Thanks. Merry Christmas and we'll catch up when you get back to New York."

He gave me a nod and walked out, leaving me alone at the table with my half-empty glass and a head full of regrets.

I pulled out my phone again, against my better judgment, and checked the latest headlines. Of course, there were more stories. More speculation. More people weighing in on my supposed deviance.

I scrolled through the comments, most of them dragging me. Women I dated in the past were offering their two cents. Typical.

I was used to being the bad guy. But what really stung were the comments about Marigold. People called her a fraud, a gold-digger, a con artist. None of it was true. And now she was caught in the crossfire of a lie I'd started.

What the hell have I done?

I put my phone away, leaning back in my chair and closing my eyes. For the first time in a long time, I didn't have an answer. I didn't know how to fix things.

And worse, I wasn't sure I even could.