Crowned by Hate (Crowned 1)

“Really?” He arches a brow.

“Really,” I deadpan. “We were kids.”

Isaac gets up off the chair and shrugs. “Well, then I’ll bring the popcorn. I’ll put one hundred on Isa though, she’s feisty as fuck.”

I grin. My girl is rather feisty. Hayley was my high school friend slash girlfriend. We grew up together and then went separate ways when she went to Harvard law and I went into business. We didn’t see each other for years until she made partner at a major firm here in NYC. She’s in the big leagues, the woman is fierce in a courtroom—and in bed. But I haven’t cheated on Isa, and I won’t. This marriage may be more like a business arrangement, but Momma taught me better than that and anyway, I was fussy when I was single. What’s the point of going out to get laid by women who have to tick all my boxes when I have one at home that doesn’t just tick all my boxes but fucking shatters them open too, and the fact that she fucks like a pro is obviously also a bonus.

I put out my smoke and get up from my chair, walking out of my office. “Dahlia!”

My assistant comes out of the lunch room carrying a coffee. “Yes? Your next appointment isn’t until four p.m. with Samsung and everything you need has been printed and is waiting for you on your desk,” she yaps off effortlessly, and this is exactly why I have the best assistant in the country.

I nod. “Thank you. I’ll be back at four.”

Strolling into the penthouse, I toss my keys on the table and loosen my tie. “Isa!” I need to lose myself in her for a few hours.

When she doesn’t answer back, I make my way upstairs, grabbing a bottled water out of the fridge on my way. I know she’s home because Brian is home. He was my personal bodyguard, and probably one of the only men I trust, hence why he’s watching Isa. I push open our bedroom door and see her little body curled in the fetal position on the bed, facing the window.

“Were you going to tell me?” Her voice barely breaks above a whisper.

I narrow my eyes on her back. “Tell you what?”

“About Devon,” she answers, her tone dead, flat, and defeated. I don’t like this tone much, I prefer Isa alive and on fire. The hungry agro little spitfire I’m used to. I walk further into the room and come around the bed, taking a seat on the single Lazy Boy that sits beside the large window. I lean back and look at her face but she quickly swipes away the tears that had fallen down her cheeks.

Fuck. She’s crying.

“Yes,” I answer truthfully because I did plan to tell her, only that little piece of shit beat me to it. I lean forward. “I was going to tell you, babe, but honestly, it meant nothing to me at all. His existence is not why I married you or even why you were on my radar.”

“Did you both set this up?” she further asks, pushing herself up and then crawling up the bed to lean against the headboard.

“What?” I’m honest to God slightly confused at her question.

“Well, I’ve been thinking…” she laughs sarcastically, her voice shaky from her crying. “Did you and Devon set up him being best friends with me in attempt to wife me? Was my friendship with Devon all a lie? Because honestly how can he just walk away from me.”

I let out a soft growl, one that I’m sure she couldn’t hear and then get off my chair to take a seat beside her on the bed. “Baby, you insult my resources when you throw around accusations like that.”

“Oh, answer the fucking question, Bryant.”

I chuckle, reaching out for her. “No, baby, no. I had heard about you through Devon before we were married yes, but I had thoughts of ‘wife-ing’ you well before he got his claws stuck into you.” I end that sentence with my teeth clenched. Knowing Devon has had his dick inside of what’s mine makes me edgy.

She looks at me and I fucking hate when she does that. Like if I lie to her, she’ll know. I’m a businessman. I lie on a daily basis to some of the most powerful men in the world, but I can’t lie to her.

Again, fuck.

“Okay,” she answers softly and it throws me off. It throws me off because is that her trusting me? I’ve not given her any reason to trust me, in fact, I’ve probably done the opposite, but yet, she says ‘okay.’

“Okay?” I look at her skeptically. “That’s it?”

She nods. “Bryant, for this to work, I have to trust you, therefore, I will always ask you once and whatever you answer me with, I will always believe you. But the day that you lie to me will be the day that all trust is broken and I will never trust you again.”