Christmas with the Silver Fox Billionaires: Chapter 1

“No fucking way.”

“Is that…” Jamie’s voice trails off as he stands beside me, two glasses of champagne in hand.

“That’s him alright,” I manage.

“I thought he said he wasn’t coming,” Jamie mutters.

“That is what he said.”

I leave Jamie behind and walk over to my fiancé, Terrence Madison. He’s wearing one of his best suits, a dark grey ensemble meant to bring out the rust in his hair and the blue in his eyes. His mother, Sheila, is beside him, talking and laughing with a vaporous blonde, both of them draped in an elegant emerald green, like they’re besties, in matching outfits.

My problem is that the blonde clings to my fiancé’s arm with too much ease.

And as soon as they see me coming, their humor fades.

They’re not surprised, though. Terrence knew I had an invite to this event. The Future Artists of America Foundation, chaired by William James Morgan, Terrence’s stepfather, sent me a personalized invitation after a team-building weekend I organized for one of Mr. Morgan’s finance firms. I’d invited Terrence to join me, and he’d turned me down.

“Hey, Terrence,” I say with as much calm as I can muster.

This place is packed with some of New York’s richest and most influential people. Potential clients not just for the wedding planning side of my business, but also for all the other corporate packages Jamie and I put together over the past year. I can’t afford to make a scene.

“Hey, Willow,” Terrence replies with a casual smile, but I still catch the strain in his voice. He knows what’s coming. “Glad to see you here.”

I gawk at him, my jaw almost dropping before my gaze shifts to Sheila, his gorgeous and equally redheaded mother. The blonde beside her raises an eyebrow at me, as if asking whose idea it was to let the cockroach into the room.

“Glad to see me here? Are you kidding me, Terrence? I asked you to come with me, and you said you were unavailable. Clearly, you’re very much available,” I hiss. “What the hell is this?”

“Willow, take the hint already,” Sheila cuts in.

I give her a hard look, the kind of look I never imagined I had in me. This woman usually intimidates me. She’s mean, intense, and judgmental. She’s been a nightmare since Terrence proposed.

“I’m not following,” I say, choosing to focus on Terrence. “You need to explain it to me like I’m five.”

“Willow, I said I was unavailable to join you at this charity event,” he says. “Not that I was unavailable to come to this charity event.”

“Seriously?”

I should’ve broken it off weeks ago. I knew I’d made the wrong choice when I said yes. But my whole life, I’d been told I needed to settle for less because no high-value man would want a girl like me: a curvy, middle-class New Yorker without a family pedigree, and that I had to lower my standards.

Then Terrence Madison came along with his Hamptons family and Manhattan connections, and he seemed to be nuts about me. I fell hard for the guy, only to soon realize that most of his fortune was built upon his association with his stepfather and stepbrothers, not from his own hard work.

“It’s the truth,” Terrence says with a shrug. The more he speaks, the more I wonder what I found attractive about him to begin with. “We might as well face it, Willow. This isn’t going to work, and we both know it.”

“You proposed to me, remember?” I flash him my ring, as if to remind him.

“It was a lapse in judgment,” he replies and nods at the blonde on his arm. “Katrina is a much more suitable choice for me.”

“A more suitable choice? What the hell does that mean?”

“It means you’re too fat for him,” Katrina cuts in. “It might sting a bit, but we might as well be honest about this.”

“I’m too fat!” I gasp, staring at her in sheer disbelief before I look at Terrence again. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“It is what it is,” he says and shrugs again.

I notice heads turning, eyes widening, brows furrowing, as the unexpected drama unfolds. I’m being humiliated in public, and every instinct I have screams at me to just punch this bastard’s lights out and call it a day.

“Terrence is a Morgan,” Sheila adds. “He’s New York royalty by my marriage to his stepfather. He needs a woman who can represent him in public, not some downtown girl who has absolutely nothing to her name.”

“I run my own business, which I built from the ground up,” I snap. “Forgive me if I wasn’t born with a silver spoon in my mouth like the rest of you. Ironically enough, it’s what Terrence said he liked most about me.”

“For a hot minute, yeah.” He chuckles dryly. “Then I snapped back to reality. It just wasn’t meant to be, Willow. You should just move on.”

“I would’ve gladly avoided this entire nonsense, if you’d been man enough to break it off with me, instead of proposing.” I raise my voice.

“You’re making a scene,” Sheila comes closer.

I take a step back, my heart racing with rage, shame, indignation, and pure, red-hot fury. It feels like a nightmare I cannot wake up from.

“I’m making a scene?” I repeat, my voice barely audible. “You have got to be kidding me.”

“Take the loss, Willow. You’re a smart, capable, independent woman. You said so yourself,” she replies. “You’ll find someone eventually. But my son is not your man, darling. He deserves so much better, and Katrina… why, she’s exactly whom he was born to be with.”

“Sheila, you’re too kind,” Katrina says with a giggle.

They’re besties already, while I spent an entire six months with an engagement ring on my finger, trying to win my future mother-in-law’s approval. Jamie was right. I never should’ve said yes.

“You’re not the kind of woman I can build a legacy with,” Terrence sneers.

“Then she’ll build one with us,” Cole’s growl cuts through the air like a sharp, stainless-steel blade.

Cole Morgan has entered the chat, flanked by his older brothers, Asher and Toby. All three stand tall and ridiculously handsome in their sleek, black tuxes, with their salt-and-pepper hair and blue and green eyes. Their frames are so large, they take up half my field of vision.

“Cole?” I manage, as if coming out of a haze.

I’ve only met them a few times during my relationship with Terrence, but I’ve never had a chance to get to know them, as my interactions with them were few and far between.

“What are you doing, Terrence?” Cole steps closer, his arm quick to snake around my waist. I’m surprised by the move, but I don’t move away.

I can’t.

The man has the kind of magnetic pull that keeps me firmly grounded, my curves soft against his hard body. There’s a palpable shift in the atmosphere, and my only choice is to go along with it. The Morgan brothers might actually save my honor tonight.

“It’s none of your business,” Terrence replies, holding his precious girlfriend closer, as well. One look at her, and I can tell she’s starting to wonder if she picked the wrong guy to get with.

“It is, if you’re so gleefully eager to besmirch my family honor,” Cole says. “It’s my understanding that you are still engaged to Willow. You’re not anymore?”

“No, and you’ve already met Katrina,” Terrence replies, raising his chin in defiance.

“I did, an hour ago,” Cole says. “And from what I’m hearing, you didn’t tell Willow about it.”

“My personal life is⁠—”

“Is my business. It’s our business, Terrence. Your mother might’ve married our father, but that doesn’t make you a Morgan. You have to earn the title,” Cole snaps. “And this stunt you just pulled is embarrassing for you and you alone.”

Asher steps in. “You know what, Terrence? You already know I never liked you, but I’ll admit, I do appreciate you for not ruining Willow’s life by marrying her.”

“She was always too good for you,” Toby adds with a wry smile.

Suddenly, I’m flanked by all three Morgan brothers. As I take a deep breath, mixed scents of tobacco, sea salt, and Moroccan rose oil fill my lungs. The Morgan genes run deep, and it only goes to prove how fundamentally different they are from Terrence.

“We’ll be more than happy to show Willow what it’s like to be with a real Morgan,” Cole says.

“What?” I ask, a little dumbfounded as I look up at him.

His gaze locks onto mine, and for a moment, my heart just… stops. I’ve never seen him so determined, so imposing, so intense. Cole Morgan and his brothers always take up space, they always draw focus, and they always stand out. But tonight, I feel like I’m the most precious creature in their presence.

I feel like they just saved me.

“Well, given that Terrence wasn’t man enough to appropriately end your engagement, how about you let us be your dates tonight?” Asher asks.

Unlike Cole and Toby, Asher’s eyes are a midnight blue, and the more I look into that night sky, the harder it is to walk away. The silver specks in his wavy hair and his carefully trimmed beard give him a particular kind of distinction that makes my fingertips tingle.

I’d heard about their polyamorous lifestyle but convinced myself they were just rumors.

“Why settle for this guy when you can get the real Morgan experience in triplicate?” Toby chuckles and tucks a lock of hair behind my ear.

His touch alone is enough to ignite tiny fires down my spine as I respond with a shy, soft smile.

“It’s not the worst idea I’ve heard tonight.”

I can’t believe I just said that.

And neither can Sheila, judging by the coarse gasp that just escaped her skinny, slightly wrinkling throat. “What are you doing, Willow?”

“I dare say it’s none of your business, Sheila,” I casually reply.

This is madness. Getting dumped by William Morgan’s stepson, only to let myself get carried away by his three biological sons feels like something out of a scandalous Reddit thread. But I’m doing it. I’m so angry, so humiliated… it’s the only exit that makes sense.

Because I’ll be damned if I’ll let Terrence or his mother make me feel like I’m not good enough.

“That is a wise choice,” Cole tells me. “Why don’t we stop by the bar first?”

“Jamie’s got champagne for me,” I reply.

“He’s your business partner, right?” Asher asks, then curiously looks around. “Ah, he’s over by the buffet, discovering the Beluga caviar tarts. He seems happy.”

“Come on, let’s ditch these losers,” Toby says and nods away from Terrence, Katrina, and Sheila.

I can’t help but laugh as I join them.

I might regret it later, but for now, my heart’s fluttering, my stomach’s as tight as a marble, and my ego is bruised enough to warrant a little bit of the Morgan brothers’ comfort.

“You’d better not be stupid enough to think you can weasel your way into the Morgan family again,” Sheila calls out.

I glance over my shoulder. Terrence doesn’t seem too happy with this conclusion. Katrina looks awkward, as if she really did get stuck with the wrong guy. Sheila’s eyes throw daggers at my face.

Toby laughs. “Projecting a little too much there, Sheila.”

She doesn’t get a chance to reply because we’re already too far away.

Once the tension and awkwardness wear off, I find myself sitting at one of the tables on the terrace overlooking Manhattan. The charity event takes place every year on the top floor of the Marriott, which opens up to a gorgeous, glass-covered garden with fairy lights and plenty of seating, which is perfect even for a cool, late November night like this.

Inside, the music and the liquor flow as New York’s richest sign checks and rub elbows while making a difference for hundreds of aspiring designers supported by the William James Morgan Foundation. And I catch glimpses of Jamie meeting and greeting some of them, clinking glasses and handing out business cards.

My three unexpected companions have my full, undivided attention.

“You’re nervous,” Cole remarks, leaning back into his seat.

We’re sharing a bottle of champagne, and we’re almost finished with it. The fizzy potion works its way through my body, taking the edge off. It’s not enough to wash away tonight’s troubles, though.

“I’m feeling a little bit of many things right now,” I tell him and smile weakly. “I can’t thank you enough for getting me away from Terrence.”

“It was our pleasure,” Toby says. A devilish grin slits across his handsome, bearded face, and I notice black tattoos peeking out from under his sleeves. They reach over his large, strong hands with intricate, fine-line details. “I love pissing Sheila off every chance I get.”

“I take it that you have a contentious relationship with your stepmother.”

The brothers exchange glances, and I observe the details I hadn’t noticed before. Asher and Toby are the eldest, in their mid-forties. Born at the same time, yet fascinatingly different. Asher is the clean-cut, automotive business-mogul type, while Toby chose rebelliousness and makes custom motorcycles for high-end clients. Cole is the youngest, in his early forties, and heir apparent to the William J. Morgan financial empire—a role I know, for sure, Terrence desperately wants.

“She’s not our mother,” Cole says. “Step or otherwise. She’s been trying to cut us out of the family and the business ever since she married our father.”

“Oh. Terrence never mentioned⁠—”

“Of course, he didn’t,” Cole replies, shaking his head. “Why would he? Sheila got it into his head that he should be included in our father’s will.”

“Love makes people do foolish things,” Asher adds, equally dismayed. “Our father is no exception.”

“Either way, you guys didn’t have to do that,” I say.

“Do what?” Toby gives me a confused look. I like the way the shadows deepen around his greenish-blue eyes when his brow furrows.

“Intervene,” I say. “It’s greatly appreciated.”

“We meant it,” Cole says.

And as soon as his gaze meets mine again, I feel the words coiling in the pit of my stomach as heat spreads through my limbs—the intensity of his attention is enough to make my skin tingle all over. It’s just that my brain needs to do a little catch-up.

“Meant what?” I foolishly ask.

“Terrence doesn’t even deserve to breathe the same air as you, Miss Willow Bennett,” Cole says.

I laugh lightly, if only to divert attention from my reddening cheeks. “You don’t even know me all that well.”

“I know everything there is to know about you,” he says. “Which only serves to reinforce my statement. You were always too good for him.”

My mind bounces back to Terrence and Sheila’s words, my gaze dropping as I look at myself. Full-figured, with thick thighs and full hips, wrapped in a floral-patterned evening gown, pink and yellow orchids stretching over my shoulders. I feel big.

“Our family is complicated,” Asher says, pouring himself another drink after he refills my glass. “When our mother died almost twenty years ago, we were sure Dad wouldn’t marry again. Plenty of women tried, most of them from within our Hamptons and Manhattan circles.”

Toby scoffs, shaking his head. “But Sheila Madison got her claws into him, eventually. The Hoboken pretender.”

“Hoboken?” I ask, somewhat confused. “She’s a Madison.”

“By marriage,” Toby says. “Sheila married into wealth.”

“Her husband died, right?”

“When Terrence was just a kid,” Asher replies. “She squandered the little fortune he left her. By the time she met our father, she was pretty much broke.”

“And now she thinks she’s better than the Queen of England,” Toby mutters.

“Personally, we didn’t have an issue with Sheila until she started pressuring our father into knocking Asher and Toby out of the will, particularly where the ownership of his financial companies is concerned,” Cole says with a heavy sigh. “My brothers may have businesses of their own, but they’re still Morgan men. The companies need to stay with us.”

“She wants Terrence in the will, I know,” I nod slowly. “He mentioned something about it more than once.”

“Let’s just say you dodged a bullet with that prick,” Cole says and leans in closer, taking me by surprise.

My body responds before my brain has a chance to process the sudden proximity. “To be perfectly honest, I was close to calling it all off,” I say. “I just kept hoping he’d change.”

“A man like Terrence doesn’t change,” Cole says.

“And a man like Terrence wouldn’t know how to make a woman like you happy,” Asher adds, leaning in from my left.

I find myself under the sizzling attention of three of New York’s most handsome and most successful men, and I don’t know what to do with it. Terrence and Sheila’s jabs still echo in the back of my mind, fueling insecurities I’ve struggled with since middle school. Insecurities I thought I’d gotten over.

“I’m too fat for Terrence.” I blurt it out, holding back tears under a strained smile.

“No, Terrence’s an idiot. And Sheila’s his mother, so don’t expect her to be any better,” Toby replies. “You’re a beautiful and successful woman, Willow. Don’t ever let those parasites make you feel like you deserve less.”

Cole’s gaze drops to my cleavage, hunger darkening his eyes. “You’re all woman, Willow, from top to bottom. Poets wrote about bodies like yours. Painters were inspired by your curves. And your character just makes you the total package.”

“I am flattered. Thank you…” I giggle softly.

“I’m not looking to flatter you,” he says, getting even closer.

I hold my breath. His lips are mere inches away. His eyes drill holes into my very soul. I should push away, I should move, I should do something, but… I don’t think I want to. I think I like this, perhaps more than I should. I’m a free woman now. And the heat spreading through my core feels natural. It’s filling a void that Terrence could never even touch.

“Like I said, we meant it,” he adds. “You’ll be seeing more of us, Willow, not less.”

“Wait, you really were serious,” I gasp.

Asher chuckles softly, then whispers into my ear. “As a heart attack.”

His lips brush over my earlobe, and a thousand tiny pinpricks spread across my skin. I can feel my nipples hardening, struggling against the fabric of my dress. All I can do is pray they don’t notice.

The Morgan brothers arrange for a ride back for Jamie, and I promise my best friend that I will see him first thing tomorrow at our office, over coffee and lox and cream cheese bagels—our “gossip” breakfast routine.

Cole, Asher, and Toby then escort me to their limo and have the driver take us to my apartment in Lower Manhattan before they head home. The conversation flows in the meantime, and I find myself growing more and more curious about them, about what they’re like, about where this might lead, because a quiet promise hangs in the crisp air between us as they get out of the limo to escort me to the building’s front door.

“It was a surprisingly lovely evening,” I tell the brothers as I turn around to face them at the base of the steps. “Thank you for that.”

“The only way you can thank us is if you let us take you out some time,” Cole declares, squaring his shoulders.

“Take me out…”

“On a date, Willow.”

“Okay,” I say and muster a shy smile.

“We’ll see you soon then,” he replies and kisses me right on the lips. I fail to react, his lips quick to silence me, to arouse me, to turn me inside out and to make my insides quicken with brimming desire. It’s short but intentional. It speaks volumes.

“Have a lovely evening,” Asher adds and takes over as Cole steps back with a hungry smile.

I’m about to say, “You too,” when Asher kisses me too.

Breathlessly, I welcome him, his tongue briefly playing with mine before he, too, pulls away to let Toby seal the deal.

I’m flustered and wet, my heart throbbing maniacally as I breathe in the deep notes of Toby’s cologne while his lips caress mine. I’m helpless.

“We’ll be in touch,” Toby says.

I manage to find my keys and get inside the building, my knees as soft as jelly, as I head for the elevator. Equal parts confused and aroused, I keep looking back, catching glimpses of them as they climb into the back of the limo. It’s not until I see the red taillights disappear down the street that I’m able to truly breathe again, realizing that I may have just traded a wanna-be Morgan for the real deal.

Times three.