“I’m sorry you’re dealing with harassment, but that’s a National Star issue,” I said calmly. “I didn’t leak those photos to them, nor did I have anything to do with their most recent publication.”
The one where they revealed that Isabella was an heiress to the Hiraya Hotels fortune.
I’d been so incandescent over the disgusting lies that I’d overlooked the bombshell. Now, the realization over Isabella’s identity sank in with diamond clarity.
Why had she kept it a secret? Did her friends know the truth, and I was the only one in the dark?
Unease formed a knot in my chest.
“Perhaps not, but she wouldn’t be in this situation if it weren’t for you,” Gabriel said. “We’ve never met, but I know your reputation. I thought you were above taking advantage of your employees.”
My jaw tightened. This was the third time my character had been called into question today, and I was getting damn sick of it.
“I didn’t take advantage of her,” I said coldly. “It was a consensual relationship. I have never coerced a woman into doing anything they didn’t want to.”
“Was or is?”
I paused. I didn’t know how Isabella wanted to handle things with her family, but my silence was answer enough.
Gabriel’s nostrils flared. “She’s dated men like you before,” he said. “Rich, charming, used to getting what they want. Happy to keep her a secret until shit hits the fan. Isabella seems tough, but she’s a romantic at heart, and as her brother, it’s my job to protect her, including from herself. She has a habit of making bad decisions.”
My hand closed around the edge of my armrest. Punching my girlfriend’s brother in the face probably wasn’t the best move, but I hated how he infantilized her. She might’ve kept secrets from me, but after meeting Gabriel, I could understand why. I wouldn’t want anyone to know I was related to him either.
“She’s an adult.” I strove for calm. “Her decisions, good or bad, are her own. You don’t have any right interfering in her life.”
“I didn’t before and look what happened. That mess with Easton. Getting fired from Valhalla.
Getting involved with you.” Gabriel drummed his fingers on his desk. “Do you want to explain to me why you—the Young heir—are running around New York City with my little sister when you could have any woman you want?”
Because she’s beautiful, smart and funny. Because seeing her smile is like watching the sun rise, and being with her is the only time I feel alive. No other woman compares.
“The fact you have to ask,” I said quietly, “proves how much you undervalue her.”
I caught the briefest glimpse of surprise before Gabriel’s expression shuttered again. “You might think you’re different from the other men, but you’re not,” he said. “Stay away from Isabella. She doesn’t need another opportunistic asshole ruining her life. This is your first and last warning.”
“And if I don’t?” I asked pleasantly.
His cool expression matched mine. “You’ll find out what happens soon enough.”
The threat barely touched me. Gabriel could try to browbeat me all he wanted, but I’d dealt with much worse than overprotective brothers. If Isabella wanted me gone, she’d tell me herself. She didn’t need other people fighting her personal battles for her.
However, one thing Gabriel said stuck with me through the rest of the afternoon and well into the night.
Who the hell is Easton?
CHAPTER 30
Isabella
I holed up in my apartment and ignored all my calls, texts, and emails for two whole days. They were relentless—my family, my friends, the media. Some meant well, others less so. Regardless, I couldn’t scrounge up the energy to face any of them.
The only time I interacted with the outside world was through my work with Alessandra, who thankfully kept our exchanges professional and didn’t ask about the National Star revelations. After the identity reveal, the tabloid continued publishing articles and rumors, most of which were blatant lies.
I went to rehab for a cocaine addiction （I’d volunteered there during college）。 I’d slept with previous employers to get hired （they fucking wished）。 I had an orgy with an entire MLB team after the World Series a few years back （I served them during their celebratory night out and had one round of drinks with them）。
The claims were so ridiculous I dismissed them out of hand. If someone was gullible enough to think I had a secret orgy-induced love child stowed away in Canada, that was their problem.
However, the truths were much harder to swallow.
Other than a string of short-lived bartending stints and even shorter-lived odd jobs, she has embarrassingly few accomplishments to her name…
Heiress or not, she’s far from his usual Ivy League-educated type.
Nausea curdled my stomach.
I tucked one hand beneath my thigh and bounced my knee as Kai returned from his kitchen with two mugs of tea.
Dark circles shadowed his eyes, and his normally neat hair was tousled, like he’d run his fingers through it one too many times. Tension bracketed his mouth and lined the broad planes of his shoulders.
My heart wrung itself at his obvious exhaustion.
He’d returned to New York that afternoon and texted me asking to meet. It was the first time we’d spoken since the latest round of National Star hits, which didn’t bode well for us.
I accepted the tea in silence.
Kai sat next to me on the couch, his brows furrowed.
“How are you doing?” he asked.
An embarrassing wave of emotion crested at the sound of his voice. He’d been gone for less than a week, but it felt like a lifetime.
“I’m okay.” I let out a weak laugh. “I became famous while you were gone. Celebrity takes its toll.”
He didn’t smile at my lame attempt at a joke. “I’m dealing with Black. The Star will retract its stories.”
My forced humor slipped. “But not the one about my family,” I said quietly. “That one’s true.”
A muscle flexed in his jaw. “No. Not that one.” He set his drink on the coffee table and rubbed a hand over his face. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I…” I faltered. “I don’t know. I’ve kept it a secret for so long that it didn’t even cross my mind to say anything. I know it seems like a silly thing to hide, but my family is extremely private.
The past week must be killing them.”
Guilt and shame bubbled in an unsettling stew in my stomach. “When I first moved to New York, I was pretty wild, and I didn’t want my actions to reflect poorly on them. If people knew who I was, I would’ve been all over the gossip sites. I also swore I wouldn’t rely on my family’s name and money to make my way, and I haven’t. Some people might think I’m stupid for not taking advantage of what I had, but I didn’t want to be one of those rich kids who lived off their parents’ wealth without doing anything.”
My mother had kept our personal lives out of the press for decades. Even Felix, my most high-profile brother, focused on his work in interviews. I wanted to explore the city and just live without worrying about sullying the family name, and I didn’t want people to treat me differently because I was an heiress.