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“Please.” There’s something almost like a plea in his eyes. “It would give me peace of mind to know you have it.”

I stare down at the card that probably has more spending power than I’ll see in my entire lifetime. “Okay, fine. If you insist.”

“I do.” He winks and strides away, leaving me standing there clutching what might as well be a winning lottery ticket.

I slide the card into my pocket with trembling fingers. I’ve heard these cards have no preset spending limit. I could probably buy a small yacht with this thing. The level of trust Gabriel just showed me is staggering and terrifying in equal measure.

I’m still processing this surreal turn of events when Hayden materializes beside me like a grumpy storm cloud.

“Do you realize that you being in debt like this makes all of Meridian look bad?” he grumbles, fishing something out of his pocket. Another Black Amex. Sweet Jesus. “We need to be able to say we take care of our people. How the hell do we maintain credibility about our success if our personal assistant—the person who works directly under us—can’t pay her bills?”

“Hayden, oh my god, no.” I hold up my hands like I’m trying to stop an avalanche. “I cannot accept another⁠—”

He thrusts the card at me with the determination of a man who’s used to getting his way. “Take it.”

“I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself, thank you very much. I don’t need charity.”

“And yet you’re going to accept it anyway.” His voice drops into that commanding tone that probably makes CEOs tremble. “Consider it a direct order from your boss.”

“Hayden—”

He presses the card into my palm and stalks away before I can mount any further protest, leaving me holding two credit cards that belong to literal billionaires and feeling like I’ve fallen down some kind of financial rabbit hole.

I pocket the second card next to the first, where they feel impossibly heavy for such small pieces of plastic. Maybe I am dreaming. Maybe I had too much wine and I’m actually passed out somewhere, having stress-induced hallucinations.

I’m still trying to process this bizarre turn of events when Ford approaches. When I notice his hand is buried in his suit pocket, a sudden suspicion dawns on me.

“Let me guess,” I say, only half-joking. “You’re here to give me your credit card too.”

His eyebrows shoot up as he pulls out—surprise—a Black Amex. “Yes, actually. How did you know?”

I stare at the third card in disbelief. “This is insane. All three of you? What’s gotten into you guys?”

Something flashes in his eyes, and he presses the card into my hand. “You’re going to take mine too.”

“Seriously, this is too much⁠—”

“You’re my fiancée.” The possessive edge in his voice makes my pulse stutter. “It would be unacceptable for me not to take care of you.”

I can see in his expression that he’s not backing down, and I’ve learned to pick my battles with these three impossibly stubborn men. Just because I have the cards doesn’t mean I have to use them. “Fine. You win.”

Ford gives a single, satisfied nod before he steps away to chat with Lydia about her semester.

I slip the third card into my pocket with the others, and they feel like they weigh a thousand pounds. I have to admit, though—it’s been a long time since anyone tried to take care of me. Liam certainly never offered, even when he knew I was struggling. I know this probably doesn’t mean much to any of them given their wealth, but it means everything to me.

The group settles into comfortable conversation clusters, and I make my way over to sit beside Ford since that’s what’s expected of the devoted fiancée. I nod and smile and try to follow the chatter, but honestly, I can feel my energy draining away like water from a cracked bucket. The flight, the constant performance of being someone I’m not, the social navigation, the stress of my dinner table confession, the emotional whiplash of seeing Liam again—it’s all catching up with me at once.

Ford slips an arm around my shoulders and leans close enough that his breath tickles my ear. “Are you about done for the night?”

I’m tempted to lie, to prove I can handle whatever this fake relationship throws at me, but the concern in his voice undoes me. “Yeah. I’m wiped.”

Across the room, I catch Liam watching us with an expression I can’t quite read. Whatever he’s thinking, I don’t like the attention. I just want to disappear.

I turn to whisper in Ford’s ear, close enough that my lips almost brush his skin. “Say something fiancé-ish. Make it convincing.”

Ford’s grin turns wicked, and his arm slides from my shoulders down to my waist, pulling me closer until I can feel his body heat through our clothes. His other hand comes up to trace his thumb across my bottom lip with devastating slowness.

“You know I’m never going to pass up the chance to take you to bed,” he growls, loud enough for everyone to hear but quiet enough to seem like an intimate moment.