Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 107639 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107639 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Cora and I scrambled around to read over her shoulder. As soon as Lydia realized what was going on, she pulled out her own phone to find out what was happening.
The headlines popped up one after the other in a series of real-time gut-punches.
’Til Scandal Do Us Part! Davencourt Marriage a Complete Fabrication?
Lords, Lies, and Lovers—Fellow Hostage Reveals Viscount Hawling’s Faux Marriage!
From ‘I Do’ to ‘I Duped You’—Viscount’s Fake Marriage Exposed!
Parliament Rocked by Wedding Hoax
I stared at the screen until the words swam on the page and my pulse pounded in my ears. How did they know? How had we given ourselves away? What was Landry going to—?
“Who’s Lindsey Graves?” Lydia asked.
It took a moment for the name to penetrate the blaring panic in my brain.
“Lindsey? She’s a—” Gossipy influencer, I thought before remembering she’d been held in San Cordova several days longer than I had. I tempered my response. “She’s a woman I met at the retreat in San Cordova. Another of the hostages. Why? What does she have to do with this?”
Lydia turned her phone toward us. In the video on-screen, a bare-faced Lindsey huddled in an overstuffed armchair, looking like the world’s bravest little toaster.
“It was awful,” she said meekly. “I was held for days with barely any food or water. We were only allowed to use the bathroom three times a day.” Her eyes welled up. “And I didn’t even have my phone. I kept wondering why some people got to leave, but the rest of us were just forgotten.” She sniffled. “For, like, days.”
A man’s voice off-camera prompted, “You’re referring to the hostages with health conditions, who were released as an act of good faith?”
“Not just them.” Lindsey’s eyes widened with innocent outrage. “Two men were rescued the second night. Kenji and Jamie.”
“You mean James Winthrop, an American ex-pat living in London, and Kenji Toma, husband of supermodel Landry Davis, who’s recently been revealed to be Viscount Hawling—” the off-camera voice clarified.
“Except they’re not married.” Lindsey’s eyes flashed, and her cheeks flushed. “Kenji was flirty and chatty with me from the very beginning. And he specifically told me he and Landry weren’t romantically involved at all—that he was just a personal assistant who helps with Landry’s public relations.” She helpfully provided air quotes. “In fact, he said he’d do anything for his employer, including crisis management!”
With an indignant lift of her chin, she went on. “Has anyone actually seen a marriage certificate? Because I wouldn’t be surprised if this whole marriage thing was a stunt to distract from the fact that Landry rescued his freaking PA while the rest of us suffered.” She sniffed delicately. “Not a good look for someone in his position, is it?”
No, I thought as Lydia stopped the video. No, it wasn’t.
The room was silent, but I felt the weight of every gaze on me.
I shut my eyes and swallowed hard against the nausea creeping up my throat. My whole body had gone ice-cold.
Last night, Landry and I had fixed everything. We’d laid our cards on the table so we could build a future together. One where Landry could openly claim his proud family legacy.
Now, my hasty words had put Landry’s reputation and political career in jeopardy.
“My fault,” I whispered. My voice sounded distant, hollow. “All of this is my fault.”
Somewhere in the house, a doorbell rang.
Nan turned to face me. “Don’t panic. We’re going to fix this.” Her words were a statement of confidence.
“How?” I blurted. “How, when her accusations are true?” If anyone scratched the surface or demanded details, they’d learn the truth. No crisis management team could spin it away.
Before I could process that thought further, Jamie Winthrop strolled into the kitchen carrying a stack of bakery boxes tied with twine.
“Good morning everyone. Thought I’d bring you all a treat to thank you for a lovely evening last—” He stopped short, reading the room. “What’s wrong?”
Shit.
I suddenly remembered there was another person from San Cordova who might be able to confirm Lindsey’s statement. Jamie had gone along with the marriage thing and didn’t seem the type to spill a secret maliciously, but if asked a direct question, what would he say?
Cora stood to help him with the boxes while I scrambled to figure out the most polite way to request someone not throw my fake husband under the bus.
“Oh, nothing.” I forced a smile. My voice couldn’t have sounded normal. “Just a regular day filled with ridiculous headlines. What did you bring? Croissants?”
Nan stood to refill her coffee. “Let’s move to my office, Kenji, and call in the team.”
I ran a hand through my hair. “I… I should get our attorneys on the line, figure out a way to make this woman stand down—”
“What woman?” Jamie looked between us. “Did I come at a bad time?”
Cora sighed. “Another of the hostages from the retreat, Lindsey Someone, is upset that you and Kenji were freed before she was. Now, she’s claiming Landry and Kenji aren’t married, which is—”