Chapter 61
AUSTIN
It felt like the walls were closing in. And I could honestly say this was not my fault.
I fucked up a lot. I got myself into some pretty shitty situations, but this one was not my doing.
Yeah, I might have thrown a minor wrench in the initial plan, but clearly, it was never going to go the way Cash thought it was going to go.
My father walked into his study where Cash and I had been waiting and sat behind it like a king on a throne, his jaw tight, his eyes cold with fury.
Cash had been cursing and pacing the room while I sat in one of the comfortable chairs.
I wasn’t happy to see my brother in trouble, but I did want to ask him how it felt.
I had been in trouble pretty much my whole life.
He was always the golden boy. That little asshole inside me wanted to jump up and point my finger at him while dancing around and laughing.
But he was in trouble because he was trying to help me.
Even if I didn’t want his kind of help. I supposed it was the thought that counted. Even if it was a shitty thought to begin with.
I had seen my father angry before—plenty of times, usually at me—but this was different. This rage was directed at Cash. I wasn’t going to come out of this unscathed, but for now, his anger was aimed directly at my big brother.
“How did you not background check this woman thoroughly enough?” Dad asked in a voice that I knew meant he was struggling to keep from exploding.
“I did do a background check,” Cash said, his usual confidence wavering slightly. “She came back clean. Good references, no criminal record.”
“No criminal record?” Dad slid a folder across the desk. “Then explain this.”
Cash opened it, and I watched his face pale as he read. I leaned over to see what had him so rattled. Police reports. Employment records. A documented history that painted Summer Auburn as anything but the polished woman she’d presented herself as.
“She was fired from three different companies in the past five years,” Armand said, ticking items off on his fingers.
“One for time theft—falsifying her hours. Another for actual theft—she was caught on camera stealing from petty cash. The third didn’t press charges, but she was escorted out by security. ”
“I didn’t know any of this—” Cash started.
“There’s more.” Armand’s voice was like ice. “A police report filed by her neighbor two years ago for harassment. Apparently she became obsessed with the woman’s husband, started showing up uninvited, leaving notes, calling at all hours. The husband had to get a restraining order.”
Cash set the folder down, looking genuinely shaken. “She made a great impression. Her references checked out. I don’t understand how I missed this.”
“Because she’s a con artist,” Dad said flatly. “A good one. She knew exactly what you were looking for and presented herself accordingly. She probably gave you fake references. Did you actually call them, or did you have an assistant do it?”
Cash’s silence was answer enough.
I should have felt bad for him. It was serious, and Cash was clearly beating himself up over it.
But I couldn’t help the small surge of satisfaction watching him squirm.
How many times had he swooped in to clean up my messes while making me feel like an incompetent child?
How many times had he looked at me with that disappointed older brother expression?
Now he was the one who had fucked up. Mr. Perfect had hired a con artist to babysit me, and it was blowing up in all our faces.
“I messed up,” Cash said quietly. “This could be bad.”
“Bad?” Dad stood, his hands planted on the desk. “This is a catastrophe waiting to happen. We have a documented con artist threatening to go public with information about our family and she has just enough truth mixed in with her lies to make it seem credible. The media will have a field day.”
“We can contain it,” Cash said. “Our legal team will fix this.”
“They’re already working on it. I had them start digging into Summer Auburn the moment you told me about the blackmail.” Dad’s gaze could have cut steel. “They’re the ones who found all of this. In less than four hours. What does that say about your vetting process?”
Cash’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t argue. Couldn’t argue. “I’ll consult with them the next time I need to vet someone.”
Dad moved from behind his desk, pacing like a caged predator.
“We need to walk this back as much as possible. Minimize the damage. Cash, you’re going to contact Summer directly and offer her a settlement.
A generous one. Enough to make her think twice about going public.
And make sure there is a damn NDA that is so ironclad she won’t think about breaking it again. ”
“And if she doesn’t take it?” Cash asked.
“Then we enforce the original NDA, suing her for damages, and we’ll bury her with the truth. We release everything we found. We make her so radioactive that no media outlet will touch her story without questioning her credibility.”
It was a smart strategy. Ruthless but smart. Classic Armand Bancroft.
“What about me?” I asked.
He looked at me with annoyance. “You stay off social media for the next eight weeks at least. Complete radio silence. No posts, no comments, nothing that could be twisted or used against us.”
I could do that. I wasn’t a big social media guy anyway.
“And you stop seeing that influencer wannabe,” Dad said.
The words hit me like a physical blow. I stared at him because there was no way I heard him correctly.
“What did you just say?” My voice came out dangerously quiet.
“The girl. The one you’ve been parading around with. You need to end it. Immediately.”
My whole body tensed and I couldn’t breathe. “Her name is Melody. And she’s not a wannabe. She’s very successful.”
“Austin, it’s over. She’s probably involved in this.” Dad shook his head. “All these clout chasers are the same.”
“She’s a successful entrepreneur who built her entire brand from nothing. She’s passionate about what she does, and she helps people. Real people.”
Dad waved his hand dismissively. “She tries on clothes for a living. Who is she really helping?”
My temper ignited. This was everything I had always hated about my father, the casual dismissal of anything he didn’t understand.
“She’s helping women feel confident in their own skin,” I said, my voice rising. “She’s building a community. That matters.”
“We contribute millions upon millions a year to charity,” Dad shot back. “That’s real help. That makes actual change in people’s lives. Not teaching women how to take selfies in designer clothes.”
“You know what else would help?” I stepped forward, my pulse pounding in my ears. “If people like us didn’t hoard all the wealth. If you paid fair wages instead of hoarding profits. If you didn’t treat people like disposable resources. Maybe then they wouldn’t need your charity.”
“Austin,” Cash warned.
But I was done. Done with the condescension. Done with the out-of-touch bullshit. Done with my father’s inability to see value in anything that didn’t directly serve his bottom line.
“Melody matters,” I said. “What she does matters. And she’s not going anywhere.”
“She’s a liability,” Dad said coldly. “Summer will use her against you. Against us. The moment this story breaks, Melody becomes part of the narrative. Do you really want to drag her through that?”
“That’s not your decision to make.”
“It is when it affects the family reputation.”
“The family reputation?” I laughed, bitter and sharp. “That’s what this is about? Not my happiness, not what I actually want, just the precious Bancroft reputation? Newsflash, I’m the butt of every joke about the precious Bancroft family name. It won’t be anything new.”
“Don’t be naive,” Dad said. “Reputation is everything in our world. It’s what opens doors.”
“I don’t care about doors!” The words exploded out of me. “I don’t care about business deals or social standing or any of it. I care about Melody. I care about having something real for the first time in my life. And I’m not giving that up because you’re worried about optics.”
The study went silent. Cash looked between us, clearly trying to figure out how to de-escalate.
“You’re not thinking clearly,” Dad finally said.
“I’m thinking more clearly than I have in years.”
Cash stepped forward, his hand raised. “Okay. Let’s all take a breath here.”
“Stay out of this,” I snapped.
“No.” Cash’s voice was firm but not angry.
“Because you’re both about to say things you can’t take back.
” He looked at our father. “Dad, I understand your concerns. The timing is terrible, and Summer is going to try to use Melody against us. But if you can drop her—just temporarily—we mitigate the risk. Summer has less ammunition if you’re not actively involved with Melody when this breaks. ”
My pulse raced, thundering in my ears. “No.”
“Austin—”
“I said no.” I looked at Cash, then at my father. “I’m not using Melody like that. I’m not throwing her away to protect myself.”
“It’s not throwing her away,” Cash said carefully. “It’s protecting her. If you’re not together when Summer goes public, Melody doesn’t become part of the story. She stays out of the crossfire completely.”
The logic made sense. I could see what he was trying to do—frame it as protecting Melody rather than protecting the family name. But it didn’t feel like an option. Not after everything. Not after realizing I loved her.
“You don’t get it,” I said, my voice rough. “This isn’t some calculated PR move anymore. This is my life. She’s my life.”
Dad’s expression hardened. “Then you’re a fool. You’re willing to drag that girl through hell because you’re too selfish to let her go?”
“I’m not dragging her anywhere. I’m standing by her. There’s a difference.”
“There isn’t.” Dad moved back behind his desk. “Not in the real world. Summer will destroy her credibility, paint her as complicit in some scheme, make her the villain right alongside us. Is that what you want for her?”
The thought of Melody being dragged through the mud, facing another wave of online hatred and scrutiny because of me, made me sick. But the thought of walking away from her, of proving Summer’s narrative right by treating Melody like she was disposable, felt worse.
“I need to talk to her,” I said. “Let her decide.”
“No.” Dad’s voice was final. “You’ll end it. Today. Cleanly. That’s how we handle this.”
“You don’t get to tell me what to do with my personal life.”
“I do when your personal life threatens everything this family has built.”
The familiar rage bubbled up. Years of being controlled, dismissed, told I wasn’t good enough, smart enough, responsible enough to make my own choices. Every argument we’d ever had seemed to converge in this moment.
Before I could lose my shit, my dad looked at Cash, then me before strolling out of the study. We were officially dismissed.
Cash and I walked out together in tense silence.
“That went well,” I said sarcastically.
“Could have been worse.” Cash stopped by his car, turning to face me. “Austin, I need to ask you something, and I need you to be honest.”
“What?”
“You love her, don’t you?”
I could deflect, make a joke, keep my walls up like I always did. He deserved the truth, though.
“Yeah,” I said. “I really do.”
Cash let out a long breath, running his hand through his hair. “Then brace yourself. This is going to get really fucking messy.”
“I know.”
“No, I don’t think you do.” He looked at me seriously.
“Summer’s going to come at you with everything.
She’ll twist the truth, manipulate the narrative, make you look like a villain.
And Melody’s going to be caught in the crossfire.
The media will dig into her past, her family, her business.
They’ll analyze every photo, every post, every moment you’ve shared together. ”
“I can handle it.”
“Can Melody?”
That was the real question, wasn’t it? I could take the heat. I’d been dealing with negative press my entire life. But Melody? She’d just barely recovered from one scandal. Could she survive another?
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “But I have to give her the choice.”
Cash nodded slowly. “Okay. Good luck.”
He drove off, leaving me standing in the driveway of my father’s estate, my mind racing. Shit was about to get complicated.