Page 86 of Filthy Rich Ex's Brothers

A beat passes. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Alex has not fulfilled the requirements for the trust his father left behind.” Bianca speaks low and fast, staring at the dash like she’s in a trance. “And Priscilla spent everything that was left to her. Every penny, apparently.”

It takes a moment for it to fully hit me. I replay conversations with Graham and Travis, think about the total sum of money that would have been left behind to Stephen’s widow. A staggering amount, not just of cash, but in equity. Buildings and properties, companies and organizations.

“But… that’s not possible,” I breathe, shaking my head a little hysterically. How could Priscilla have liquidized everything? “It was like, hundreds of millions of dollars.”

Bianca shrugs, looking miserable. “She spent it. Priscilla grew up with unlimited money, and she never really had to pay attention to how she spent it. So when it all fell into her lap, she just… blew it apart. Took out loan after loan, listed the holdings as collateral, just so she could have money for her jet and her clothes.”

I don’t know much about the ultra-wealthy, but it seems impossible. “But… didn’t Stephen have accountants? Lawyers? Like, an advisory team who would protect the wealth?”

“He did.” Bianca scrubs her hands over her face again. “But it was within Priscilla’s power to fire them. And she did. Didn’t like the way they treated her.”

“Shit,” I breathe. It’s strange—I’ve never had that kind of money, and have, like every other poor kid in the world, spent time dreaming about what it would be like to be rich. I’d never thought to imagine what it would feel like toloseit. To be the kid of a rich person blowing through every dollar, not caring about the people standing to inherit after them.

“Shit is right.” Bianca clears her throat, turns to me, still dabbing at her cheeks with her scarf.

“But what does this have to do with the guys?” I ask, finally. “They have their own money. Travis never even took the trust from Stephen.”

“It affects them,” Bianca rasps, “because Alex needs money. He’s going to blackmail Travis with more photos. Of you.”

I blink at her. “Ofme?”

Miserably, she nods, “Alex seems to think that the only way he’s going to get to his brothers is through you. If Travis doesn’t pay Alex off, Alex will post the photos personally, on his own accounts. He’ll blast your identity and let the world know about your… arrangement with them.”

“Fuck you.” I spit, still remembering the sting of her judgment in her bedroom.

Bianca raises her hands, palms out. “Alex isn’t just going to make it about you, though. He’s going to claim that Travis and Ryan, Ryan and Graham… that they’ve all been…together.”

“They haven’t.” I cross my arms, glaring at her. “Not that it would matter if they did, but they don’t.”

She gives me a sad smile—a girl who knows far more about this world than I do, witnessing my naivete in real-time. “You’re right. It wouldn’t matter, except to the stakeholders. To Travis’s investors, Ryan’s show-runners, Graham’s donors. People suck.No matter what Alex says, they’re going to want to distance themselves from anything that doesn’t make sense to them.”

My heart twists, and I’m breathless. The guys could stand to lose everything they’ve been fighting for.

“…Alex is going to give Travis one week,” Bianca chokes, before blowing her nose daintily. “And if he doesn’t pay up, Alex is planning to do a big reveal at Graham’s big park gala.”

My body goes into shock. All that time I spent with Alex, and I really didn’t see what he was capable of? All that time he talked about not being close with his family, and I really assumed it was through no fault of his own?

Numb and a little zoned out, I reach for the door handle again. I need to figure out what the hell I’m going to do.

“Serena…” Once again, Bianca grabs my arm. This time, when I turn to her, it’s like looking at a stranger. Swallowing, brow bouncing hopefully, she says, “I was hoping... that someday, maybe, we could be friends again.”

That, at least, makes me laugh. I pull out of her grasp and close the car door. “Not a fucking chance in hell.”

Chapter 47

Graham

Isit quietly in an armchair and watch Travis pace the length of his office.

Ryan is already two cocktails deep, and Serena sits across the room, a tight ball of nerves. She hasn’t stopped twisting her hair around her finger, chewing her nails, or kicking her heels against the counter she sits on since she got here. Since she told us about Alex’s blackmail plan.

Mostly, I feel sorry for Ryan. Poor guy, through no fault of his own, has been sucked into the Oakley family drama. It’s not like he comes from generations of backstabbing and scheming. For him, Nebraska must seem pretty fucking appealing right about now.

Travis stops, looks up like he might say something, then shakes his head and continues his pacing.

“Serena,” I say when she twists her hands together again, “come here.”