Chapter 20

TWENTY

ROWE

I’d worried that having Bash’s friends come to the Hamptons would pop the iridescent bubble we’d been floating in, but it hadn’t. Not at all. The brotherhood were nothing but kind, and Silas had even pulled me aside to apologize for being slow to trust me.

“It wasn’t personal. I’d side-eye anybody these guys got serious about,” he’d admitted, gesturing to the men laughing in the living area. “Wouldn’t matter if you came with a PhD and a recommendation from Lin-Manuel Miranda. Besides,” he added with a grin, “Bash always said he’d end up married to Sterling Chase. Now maybe he will.”

I laughed at the time—a kind of frantic laugh, though Silas didn’t know me well enough to recognize it. “ Serious about ”? “ Married to ”? I couldn’t pretend that I didn’t realize Bash had feelings for me, not after he’d done something as heart-shatteringly, mind-bendingly wonderful as telling me the true story of the founding of Sterling Chase, but I still couldn’t comprehend what anything beyond this week with him would look like. Me, showing up at his penthouse apartment with my delivery sombrero after a shift? Him, coming over to chill on Joey’s futon after a long day of buying and selling small countries? What about my parents? What about the Tech Barn?

So I simply didn’t think about it. I focused on preparing for Monday, on the future of Daisy Chain, on making sure the bubble didn’t pop.

But when we arrived back in the city on Saturday afternoon and the elevator doors opened into the palatial entrance hall of Bash’s Park Avenue apartment, I felt the bubble pop anyway, trampled beneath the feet of commitment and lost in the shuffle of reality.

A reality that included ten-foot ceilings and a private elevator.

“Hey!” Kenji said, materializing out of nowhere. “You guys made good time.”

“This… what… is…?” I didn’t even know where to begin in my quest for answers about Bash’s living space. If his Hamptons house had screamed wealth to me, this pretty much deafened me. The furnishings alone were probably worth millions, and that was before I even began asking about the art on the walls.

“Rowe, you’re set up in the guest room. Third door down the far corridor on the left,” Kenji said, waving in the general direction of an honest-to-god gilt-framed mirror hung over an antique mahogany console table in a hallway carpeted by a luxurious Persian runner.

“Set up?” I repeated, still gawking like a tourist at Versailles. “I have my suitcase here.”

“Keep moving,” Kenji said, barely holding back a knowing smirk. “You can gawk after we see how well the tuxedo fits.”

“Joey sent over his tux?” I asked a split second before I entered the guest room and saw an Alexander McQueen garment bag hanging from a small rolling clothes rack.

“Not exactly,” Kenji called down the hallway after me. The laugh in his voice wasn’t funny.

“Fuck,” I whispered, reaching into the garment bag like it held a venomous snake but instead pulling out the most gorgeous tuxedo I’d ever seen. “We aren’t in Kansas anymore.”

“Please don’t tell me this is the thing that finally makes it all too weird for you.” Bash walked into the room behind me and gave me an uncertain smile. “It’s off-the-rack.”

“An off-the-rack Alexander McQueen ,” I squeaked, running my hand over the ultra-smooth wool. “This had to cost… five thousand dollars?” That was enough to buy a used car. To pay my parents’ mortgage for months. “I… I…”

Bash’s smile fell. “You don’t have to wear it,” he said quickly. “I’ll be proud to have you on my arm wearing the bunny tux. Or those pajamas with the goldfish that you wore at the beach. I just know you like beautiful things, and I thought… But it doesn’t matter. My date’s going to be the most gorgeous, quirky man at the banquet. And I care about the man inside the tux, not whose name is on the jacket.”

I squeezed my eyes shut for a second. Rowe Prince, what the fuck are you doing? Daisy’s voice was clear in my head. Hadn’t I been the person, two weeks ago, telling Miranda Baxter-Hicks that she needed to wear dresses she liked and not to worry about whether they were good enough for anyone else?

And here I had the man of my dreams, a guy whose only goal was to make me happy, handing me a tuxedo beyond anything I could have imagined for myself. And instead of thanking him for being so thoughtful, instead of rejoicing that I got to wear something I loved on the arm of the man I’d fallen head over heels for… I was worrying that I wasn’t good enough for the fucking tuxedo.

I touched the tattoo on my hip. For years, I’d worked hard, focused exclusively on Daisy Chain, and told myself I was doing it for my sister. But that tiny, lightless existence was never what Daisy would have wanted for herself. It wasn’t what she’d want for me.

It was about time I did the brave, exciting thing .

I turned to Bash and kissed him fiercely, with all the love in my bruised and hopeful heart. “Thank you. For the tuxedo. For putting up with my nerves. For being so much more than I ever expected.” I kissed him again. “I can’t wait to wear it, Sebastian. I can’t wait to be on your arm.”

That might have been overstating the case somewhat—I was still a jangly mass of nerves about the party—but Bash was too kind to call me on it. Or maybe I’d simply exploded his brain with the force of my kisses. “But I’m putting Joey’s magic scarves in the breast pocket,” I added breathlessly.

“Uh, yeah,” he said, eyes glassy. “Yeah.”

Kenji barked from somewhere out in the hall. “Sebastian Dayne. Focus.”

Bash almost ran into the doorframe on his way out of the room, and it was enough to help me let go of some of my nerves. If the world’s hottest billionaire was a regular guy who could be knocked senseless by a hot kiss, then maybe we weren’t so different after all.

Maybe, just maybe, we could find a way to work things out.

I ran my hand over the buttery wool and satin of the jacket once again, then closed my eyes and prayed to my imaginary fairy godmother.

Let tonight go smoothly. No pumpkins.

But a few hours later, it became clear that my fairy godmother was a deceitful troll—or she was adhering hard to that one-wish-per-customer rule—because there were no happy endings in sight.

* * *

“Darling, who are you wearing?” a familiar voice asked from somewhere behind me.

I hadn’t expected an industry awards banquet to be quite so crowded or quite so filled with random socialites. I’d spotted at least two A-list actors and a politician just in the short time that Bash had stepped away to greet a colleague he recognized, and my nerves were back in full effect.

The throng of people had closed around me so thickly I didn’t realize the words were meant for me until a hand touched my arm.

I spun around and saw Constance Baxter-Hicks wearing a strapless black satin bombshell gown that made her look like she’d stepped out of an old Hollywood film. She was pure understated elegance, and it suited her to perfection.

“You’re outshining us all tonight, darling,” she said, air-kissing my cheek.

“Who, me?” I shook my head. “Look at you .”

She poked me with a jewel-encrusted clutch purse that matched the beading along the bust line of her gown. “This old thing?” She preened. “Don’t be silly. That tuxedo is to die for.”

Constance wasn’t wrong. As soon as I’d seen myself in the mirror, I’d vowed never to be caught dead in Joey’s bunny tux again. The look on Bash’s face when he’d first seen me in it had made me consider turning tricks if that’s what it took to keep dressing so fine. Second Chance Savers castoffs were great, but they couldn’t hold a candle to this.

“It’s McQueen,” I said with a sniff, feeling the familiar armor of my Sterling Chase persona fall over me. If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em.

“ Really ? I would have imagined you in something a little more… quirky ,” she said with a sparkle of understanding in her eye. “A Siriano tux gown perhaps… or at least a vintage Alberta Ferretti. Something with flair.”

I held out my arm to her. “Butter is better than flair. Feel this.”

Her grin widened when she ran her manicured fingers down my sleeve. “ Grain de poudre … and surely it’s made from virgin wool. How… appropriate.”

My face heated. I’d been so intimidated by the woman at our first meeting I’d taken her at face value. Considering my own circumstances at the time, I should have known better than to assume that anyone at these parties was truly who they appeared to be. After the incident at the polo field, I’d started to wonder whether Constance was more aware than I’d given her credit for—which was both interesting and off-putting. Now I was pretty sure she’d confirmed it.

“I’ll have you know this is no longer virgin wool,” I said, my gaze searching the crowd for a particularly tall and handsome head… or, in a pinch, any of the other members of the brotherhood who were supposed to be attending. “It’s thoroughly debauched wool. The debauchiest.”

“What is going on over here?” Bash’s murmur made my skin prickle. He handed me a glass of wine and slid an arm around my waist. “Constance. How are you this evening? Exciting developments with your topiaries?”

Constance laughed delightedly. “So thoughtful of you to ask, Sebastian. I’m doing much better now that I’ve run into Sterling here. The man brings life to a party.”

Bash’s hand tightened on my waist. “I couldn’t agree more.”

She pursed her lips, and her eyes danced. “He was just bragging about his… wool. It seems the man… excuse me, his tuxedo … has been through some things since we last met.”

I tried not to choke on my wine. “Yes, well. You know McQueen.” I waved a hand in the air, trying at the last minute not to slosh out my wine. “He likes to make a statement.”

“Indeed.” Constance looked around the room. “Bash, please tell me there’s going to be entertainment tonight. I can hardly stand these awards banquets. The least they can do is roll out a dance floor and strike up an orchestra. Or maybe have Zee Barlo sing. I swear I saw him around here somewhere.”

“There’ll be dancing after dinner,” Bash said with a knowing smirk. “Why do you think I brought a date?”

I elbowed him while secretly bouncing with excitement over the idea of dancing with Bash after the awards ceremony. I’d never been to a party like this—not as an invited guest, anyway—and I’d certainly never danced with another man in public before.

Constance waved to someone across the crowd. “Pearson, darling!” Then she leaned in to whisper, “Insufferable ass but serves the most delightful Coquille Saint-Jacques at his Memorial Day fête every year, so I can’t help but maintain the connection, you understand. Until later, mon cher! Save a dance for me, will you?” She floated away into the crowd with a heavy waft of Chanel No. 5.

“Force of nature,” I murmured.

“We should have told her your real name,” Bash said. “She’s a good connection to maintain.”

“Pretty sure she somehow knows it,” I admitted softly. “The woman seemed to see right through me.” I gave him a look. “Not easy to keep a secret in this crowd.”

Bash threaded his fingers through mine and tugged me in the direction of the banquet tables. Rows and rows of tables sparkled with silver and glassware, rich floral centerpieces, and lit votive candles. My eyes took in every inch of the exquisite surroundings from the elegant clothes to the pristine table displays. Near the side of the room, he found the tables with Sterling Chase’s logo on a card in the center and led me to them.

Landry was already seated at the first Sterling Chase table, slumped in his seat with a glass of wine in his hand. His date, a model-gorgeous man, sat beside him, talking to his phone like he was making an Instagram reel and ignoring everyone else around him. When we approached, Landry winked and raised his glass to us.

Silas waved from another table and elbowed Dev, who was hunched awkwardly over a tumbler of whisky like he was attempting to appear invisible. Dev up-nodded us.

“Thank you for bringing me,” I said impulsively, pulling Bash to face me before we took our seats at Landry’s table. “I’m glad I’m getting the chance to experience something like this.” Not just being at the glittering party but the chance to be part of his brotherhood, even temporarily.

“First of many, I hope,” he said, giving me a half-smile that made my knees go weak.

“Huh?”

“I mean… I hope this is the first of many boring awards banquets you experience with me.” He leaned in close to my ear and whispered, “Ducking behind a potted plant alone seems like such a waste now.”

My heart beat fast, and my stomach dropped. “Are you… are you saying…” I licked my lips. “Do you mean while I’m living in New York? Or, like, you’d want me to maybe come back to the city sometime? O-or…” I trailed off, unable to think of a third option.

“No.” Bash set his hand on my waist. “I’m saying I’d like you to consider—”

“Bash.” Austin Purcell stood behind one of the empty chairs. “Hey, hey. Sorry to interrupt, but there was a mix-up with my ticket tonight. The people at the entrance said— oh. ” He noticed Bash’s arm around me and broke off with a frown.

Bash stiffened and turned, blocking Austin’s view. “Austin. I thought you were in Sierra Leone until tomorrow.”

“Well, I was, but I changed my flight. I assumed it was an oversight on Kenji’s part since I was meant to be here .” He peered around Bash, his attention fully on me. “Are you…?” His eyes widened in recognition. “Your picture was up on Bash’s wall screen.” He looked to Bash for confirmation.

Bash ignored him, instead smiling broadly at someone near the entrance. “Oh, look, Clarissa’s arrived. We should take our seats.” With a hand on my shoulder, he finally took his own seat.

Austin plopped down into the chair on the other side of me. “What’s your name again?”

My stomach gave a sickening swoop. I didn’t want to give him my name and possibly start something. Would Austin remember the name of the man whose project he’d stolen? Possibly not, but I couldn’t take the chance of tipping off Austin before the board meeting on Monday, when Bash and the others would confront Austin with the legal team present.

My best option was to lie low.

“I’m Bash’s date.” I managed a tight smile. “Nice to meet you.” I turned to Bash. “What were you saying again? Something about polo, I think?”

Under the table, Bash grasped my hand tight enough to cut off my circulation. Thankfully, someone stopped by the table to greet Austin, and he stopped talking to me. But as the uniformed servers began delivering dinner and an older man in a sweet navy tux stood up at the podium to make his opening remarks, I felt Austin’s attention on me again, like he was trying to figure out a way to ask my name without being overtly rude.

I straightened my posture, ignored the keynote speech I couldn’t care less about, and tried to look like I belonged.

“Bash, darling.” Constance Baxter-Hicks appeared next to Bash. “They’ve seated us at the Loringtons’ table, and that just won’t do. I’ve asked them to switch us here. You don’t mind, do you?” Without waiting for Bash’s confirmation, Constance took the seat beside him. Her daughter, Miranda, took the chair next to hers, and a nice-looking guy around my age took the next seat down—after holding out Miranda’s chair for her.

I shot Miranda a covert thumbs-up, gesturing to her elegant, understated green dress, and she blushed and smiled hugely.

“Always happy to have you with us,” Bash said with a genuine smile. “Miranda, Hank. Nice to see you both.”

The man nodded, then leaned toward Miranda like he was continuing a conversation while Miranda cheerfully munched her dinner roll.

Another pair of women arrived and took the remaining seats at the table. They both appeared to be in their forties. One had a pale complexion with a short platinum pixie cut, and the other was dark-skinned with long mahogany hair that tumbled in shiny waves against the red satin tux she wore.

Bash stood and went around the table to help the ladies with their seats, then returned and put a hand on my shoulder. He gestured toward the blonde woman first. “This is our CEO, Clarissa, and her wife, Kamaria. Ladies, I’d love to introduce you to my date. He’s—”

“The Burrito Bandito!” Austin blurted triumphantly, like he’d finally come up with the answer that had been eluding him. “You’re the one who does the dance!”

Bash’s fingers tightened on my shoulder, and I knew my face had to be fire-hot.

What was I supposed to do now? Would it cause more of a scene to confirm or deny?

“See, I know him as the brilliant inventor of—” Bash began in a low growl, but I set my hand on top of his to stop him.

“Don’t,” I said softly. “Don’t.”

“And you are?” Constance leaned forward to look down her nose at Austin like he was a lower life form she’d only just deigned to notice.

But Austin wouldn’t be distracted. I could see the scales falling from his eyes like dominos, plink plink plink .

“Rowe!” he accused, pointing at me. “That was the name on the wall screen. I knew I’d remember it eventually. I told you I never forget a face. Bash investigated you! You’re the funny little man who delivered the food the other day, but you refused to tell me your name then. You’re Rowe Pr— uh .”

Austin hesitated and swallowed hard, like he hadn’t made the connection between the picture he’d seen in Bash’s office and the letters where he’d first seen the name Rowe Prince until the words had been in his mouth. Then he darted a glance at Bash’s hand on my shoulder, recognizing what it might mean that the real inventor of Daisy Chain was attending this function on Bash’s arm.

I saw the moment he decided to go on the offensive in an effort to save himself.

“Bash, your date is a security risk!” Austin flushed as red as my own face had to be. “He was at our office the other day in a disguise, a-a-acting extremely suspicious. He refused to identify himself, then he ran off into the building, and our security team couldn’t find him. I wouldn’t be surprised if he… if he stole intellectual property ! We need to have him removed right now and investigated thoroughly . I’ll take on the task myself. This man is a danger. A thief. A liar .” He looked around the dining room frantically. “Somebody find security!”

Bash’s voice was low and full of command, the kind of voice that might have melted the clothes right off me if we hadn’t been surrounded by a couple of hundred businesspeople in formalwear. “Keep your voice down, Austin. I know exactly who this man is. And I’m crystal clear on who at this table is a thief.”

Austin’s chest expanded and contracted rapidly. In the face of Bash’s uncompromising refusal to act, he turned toward his CEO. “Clarissa, Bash’s judgment is clearly compromised. You have to believe me.”

Clarissa was already aware of the situation. And while she might not have known who the true owners of the company were, she knew that Bash, as the person who acted as a liaison from the board of directors, was very much in charge.

Fortunately, she had also been well coached on the need to act clueless about Austin’s treachery until the official board meeting on Monday morning.

“My goodness, Austin,” she said, managing to sound shocked. “Have you had too much wine? We have no proof anything’s been stolen, and this man is Sebastian’s friend.”

“But—”

“Let’s table this until Monday,” she said firmly. “They’re getting ready to begin the awards.”

Austin straightened in his chair. “I will not sit here and be accused of stealing my own idea!”

Clarissa blinked at him. “Accused?” She gave Bash an incredulous look, like she wondered if he could shed light on Austin’s strange theories. “No one’s accused you of anything. And what idea could you have stolen?” She frowned, as though the idea had only just occurred to her. “Wait… you don’t mean the idea for MRO?”

The woman deserved an Academy Award. Or a promotion. Or… all the burritos she could eat for the rest of ever .

“I… I…” Austin seemed to realize that in his haste to shift blame onto me, he might have unwittingly revealed his crime. “Maybe, yes! I remember this man’s name. He sent letters to me. Months ago. H-he’s a rival inventor. He warned me he’d try to steal my plans. To claim that he came up with them himself.”

“This man?” Bash took his seat and grabbed my hand, holding it on top of the table in a gesture of support and connection that would have made me fall in love with him… if I hadn’t already been there. “The one you just claimed was a burrito delivery person? Now you’re saying he sent you letters warning you that he was going to commit a crime?”

“He is! He did!” Austin insisted. “He… I…”

Silas wandered over from the next table, a politely chastising look on his face that hardened when he looked at Bash. It was almost like he knew Bash was going to have a hard time holding his temper. “Is there a problem over here?”

“Not at all, Silas. Austin appears to be confused about some things. Maybe it’s jet lag.” Clarissa lifted a hand to Austin in a soothing gesture. “Your claims are easily proven, Austin. On Monday, you’ll provide us with copies of the letters you claim this man sent you, and the truth will come out. Now, please don’t make a scene.”

Around us, there was a scattering of applause as the first awards were presented.

“Well, I don’t have the letters. I-I-I threw them away! But still—”

“You threw away letters that threatened corporate espionage?” Landry wrinkled his perfect nose and took a deliberate sip of his drink. “Is that normal operating procedure?”

Austin glared at Landry angrily before turning his glare on me. “The situation was mine to handle as I saw fit. The patent applications have gone through in my name.”

“Have they?” Bash’s voice was deceptively mild. “Last we spoke, you needed to provide some documentation to Legal in order to pass our internal reviews.”

“A formality,” Austin whispered, like he could feel the net closing on him. “I have the documentation.”

“Of course you do,” Bash agreed. “That’s what you said. Which is why I asked IT to search all the files you’ve deleted in the last six months. Thank goodness for backups, right? Now, we will resolve all of this on Monday. But in the meantime, I will not tolerate another accusation against my date without proof. Understand?” Bash’s tone suggested there would be consequences if Austin did not.

“The MRO is my project. I’ve worked countless hours on it,” Austin gritted out, his eyes still on me. “I’ve developed it into the market-ready program it is today—”

He sounded like a petulant child whose toys had been taken from him. Part of me wanted to be sympathetic—there had to be something broken inside him to have done such a terrible thing with no apparent remorse, right?—but I couldn’t. Instead, I thought of how he’d stolen the story of Daisy’s death and given that to Bash as his own. How he’d lied to Bash and was potentially conspiring with Justin Hardy behind Bash’s back.

I didn’t want him to have the opportunity to hurt Bash again.

“That doesn’t sound like proof to me,” I said softly.

Bash huffed out a startled laugh but didn’t let go of my hand.

Constance Baxter-Hicks, who’d been watching the conversation like she was at a tennis match, pressed her lips together to hide a smirk. And Clarissa’s wife tilted her head, presumably to hear better since she was furthest away from me.

Silas leaned in between Bash and me and spoke in a warning whisper. “Sebastian, stop this immediately. We’re in public, for Christ’s sake. And you’ve known Austin for years. Every report the board of directors has received shows that Austin’s excelled in his role. Surely you’d take his word over… this person’s.” He tilted his head in my direction.

I glanced up at Silas in dismay. Had he been lying when he said he believed me?

“Thank you,” Austin breathed, sitting back in his seat in relief. “Finally, a voice of reason.”

Silas nodded. “But since I happen to know Landry’s date is an Instagram influencer and this whole thing will be on his stories in an hour—”

All eyes swung toward Landry’s date, who shrugged unapologetically over the top of his phone. “What? My followers want content.”

“—you might as well tell us how you came up with the idea for Daisy Chain in the first place.” Silas sounded bored and annoyed. “The last thing we need is rumors circulating that you were dishonest.”

He directed this comment toward Bash, who gripped my hand but kept his gaze on the tabletop.

“As I already explained to Bash, Daisy Chain came about because someone dear to me died of commotio cordis, and I recognized a need,” Austin said primly.

I sucked in a breath. Now I was the one squeezing Bash’s hand. I’d been afraid I’d be thrown out of the gala for lying. Now, just a couple of weeks later, I was getting ready to be thrown out of an awards banquet for assault.

“Did you hear that, Bash? He came up with Daisy Chain because he lost someone. Very noble.”

Austin nodded in satisfaction.

“Just one more question, Austin. When did you start calling Daisy Chain MRO?” Silas asked softly.

Silence descended on the table. I imagined only half of us understood the importance of what Silas had engineered—what Austin had admitted when he didn’t challenge my name for the project, the connection he’d drawn—but even if they hadn’t understood the words, there was no missing the expression of shocked guilt on Austin’s face.

The tide had turned.

Silas had turned it.

“I… it… I didn’t.” Austin flushed pink, and his eyes looked panicked again. “I was confused. I was repeating what you said. I…”

“Save it. That might not be enough admission for a court of law, but it’s plenty for me,” Bash hissed. “Your employment at Sterling Chase is over, and you will never get your name on the patent for this project.”

Austin’s breath came in shallow pants. Like a gazelle surrounded by lions, his gaze pinged around, from unfriendly face to unfriendly face, and then to the phone Landry’s date held. He inhaled sharply. “You know, Bash,” he said, lowering his voice at last, “I don’t believe you have the authority to fire me. You’re just a member of the board, right?” He conjured up a smile that was half sneer. “Unless you’re telling me you’re more than just a board member? Silas, Landry, care to weigh in? Just how much power do you have?”

Bash froze, and I heard Silas suck in a small breath as he straightened.

As last-ditch efforts went, Austin’s was devastating. For so long, Bash and his brotherhood had kept the truth of their relationship to the company hidden, not wanting to be publicly associated with ETC and the insane wealth it had brought them. But how well had they really guarded it if I’d figured it out in a matter of weeks? How many people, like Austin, had suspicions? Had Justin guessed when he was spending time with Silas? Had Constance, who seemed to know everything about everyone, ever wondered? How long could their lie stand if anyone had a reason to look?

Already, Clarissa’s eyebrows furrowed as she glanced back and forth from Austin to Silas, to Landry, to Bash, and I could tell by Silas’s angry stillness and Bash’s slackened grip on my hand that both of them realized it.

Suddenly, the award announcer’s voice caught everyone’s attention. “And the winner of the Innovation Award for Food and Beverage Project Development goes to… Austin Purcell on behalf of Sterling Chase, for their work on the CaffApp!”

The audience applauded, and Austin laughed lightly, holding Bash’s gaze as he stood, daring Bash to object, challenging him to make a scene that would end with Austin publicly questioning—in a room full of their peers—who owned Sterling Chase and had created ETC.

Bash and Silas exchanged a look with Landry. Being revealed as the owner of Sterling Chase and the inventor of ETC would change the course of his—and his friends’—future in ways I couldn’t even comprehend. What privacy they had would be gone; Zane’s music career would be overshadowed; shy Dev would be forced into a limelight I instinctively knew he’d hate; and Bash would be hounded by every fledgling entrepreneur, every charity, every greedy soul he’d ever encountered, who’d treat the man like he was nothing more than a walking checkbook.

It was a bell that could not be un-rung, and I could tell by the helpless fury on their faces none of them were prepared. Tension thrummed through Bash’s body, and he gave Austin a look that promised retribution, but he didn’t protest when Austin waved and grinned, then began the long walk to the stage.

Anger surged in my gut, pulsed all the way through to my fingertips.

That smarmy, self-serving asshole thought he could go up there and claim a prize after he’d threatened the man I loved—a man who’d accepted me, cared for me, protected me, and helped me from the first moment we’d met? No.

No.

I’d stood helplessly by while too many things went wrong in my life. While too many risks went untaken. Not this time.

I pushed to my feet also. And for once, I didn’t cower before the crowd of well-dressed socialites and industry executives. I did not babble, and I did not stammer.

Instead, I did what any self-respecting quirky billionaire would do when he had the honor of protecting the man he loved. I bent down, pressed a quick kiss to Bash’s unsuspecting lips…

And lied my ass off.