Valentine’s Billionaire Auction

Chapter 12

12

ROMAN

V ictory tasted as sweet as the bourbon I swirled in my glass. She agreed. I knew she would, of course—I always won. Still, watching Kaira wrestle with her decision and finally come to the inevitable conclusion had been entertaining. I leaned back in my chair, letting her simmer in the quiet for a moment.

“Excellent,” I said smoothly. “You’ve made the right choice.”

“That is yet to be determined,” she muttered.

“Here’s what happens next. You’ll meet my board on Monday morning. They’ll want to put a face to the arrangement and finalize the terms. We’ll have a contract drawn up, which we’ll both sign. You’ll receive your payment when the contract is fulfilled.”

She nodded cautiously, like she was bracing for impact.

“In the meantime, I’ll cover all your expenses. Rent, bills, living costs—anything you need. Just send me an invoice.”

Her brows shot up. “An invoice? For my rent and bills? My… living expenses?”

“Everything,” I confirmed. “Down to your birth control costs.”

Her cheeks flushed so deeply I thought she might combust. It was hard to tell if she was embarrassed, offended, or both. She opened her mouth, probably to yell at me, but shut it again. Instead, she crossed her arms and looked at me like I was an alien.

“I have a roommate,” she said. “I can’t leave her high and dry.”

“I said I will pay your expenses. I’ll cover your half of the rent and bills and what not.”

Kaira gave me a long, measured look. “Why are you doing this? Why go to such lengths?”

I swirled the bourbon in my glass again, watching the liquid catch the light. Honesty wasn’t always my first choice, but perhaps with Kaira, it would be a different kind of weapon.

“There’s more at stake than just my reputation,” I confessed. “Business deals, potential partnerships—my future—it’s all on the line. You being by my side, convincing the board and investors that I’m a stable, committed man changes the narrative.”

Kaira’s eyes narrowed slightly. “You’re using me to secure your empire.”

“I prefer to think of it as mutual assistance,” I countered smoothly. “You help me stabilize my image; I pull you out of financial quicksand. We both emerge stronger.”

She studied her hands for a long moment. Then, looking up, she said, “And what happens when this contract ends? When these six months are over?”

“You go your way, and I go mine. Period.”

“Why me?” she asked again. “Why not one of the women that fawn all over you?”

I smirked slightly at the question, setting the glass down with a soft clink. “Fawning women are too easy to read, too predictable. They enter the room, and everyone knows what they’re after. But you? You challenge me. You keep them guessing, and that’s exactly what I need right now. My board will not approve of a woman that’s been out there and is known. Not that they need to approve, but they would have an issue with someone that would not be taken seriously by the public.”

“And I will?”

“Yes. We’ll make sure they do.”

She sighed. “So, I’m just a strategy to you?”

“Isn’t that what I am to you?” I shot back gently. “This is nothing more than a business deal.”

Kaira bit her lip, clearly contemplating her next move. “And if I decide, at any point, that this isn’t what I want—what then? Can I just walk away?”

I leaned forward, elbows on the table, fixing her with a steady gaze. “There will be stipulations in the contract for both of our protections. But yes, you can walk away. However,” I paused, letting the weight of my next words sink in, “breaking a contract comes with penalties. They’re designed to discourage either party from backing out prematurely.”

She was silent, her mind clearly racing through the implications. Finally, she looked up and met my eyes, her expression resolute but wary.

“Okay,” Kaira said slowly. “I’ll do it. But I want something in writing that details every aspect of this arrangement—what you’ll cover, the penalties, everything. And I want my lawyer to look over it before I sign anything.”

“Of course,” I replied. “You’ll have your contract by tomorrow morning. Your lawyer can go through it with a fine-tooth comb.”

We both knew she didn’t have a lawyer, nor could she afford one. But I would let her pretend she did. She downed her bourbon, surprising me just a little. She didn’t even flinch.

“Can I leave now?” she asked flatly.

I smirked. “I was going to give you a tour first. You’ll be moving in Monday night.”

“Monday?” she yelped, her eyes wide. “That’s only three days away! I can’t do that! I have… I have…”

I waited for her to finish her sentence. “Yes?”

“Well, I have nothing scheduled but why so soon?”

“This has to move quickly,” I explained. “Monday is final—so long as the board approves, of course.” I rose to my feet and gestured for her to follow. “Come on. Walk with me.”

The solarium transitioned seamlessly into the indoor pool area. Warm light glimmered off the water’s surface. I pressed a button on the wall, and a partition slid open, revealing the outdoor pool beyond.

“You can swim inside or outside, depending on your mood,” I said casually. “The outdoor section is heated year-round and big enough for laps. And I have rafts and stuff if you just want to float around.”

She took it all in, her arms wrapped tightly around herself like she was trying to keep from reaching out and touching the ridiculous luxury. My place was a lot. I knew that. But what was the point of being filthy rich if you didn’t treat yourself?

“Next, the spa.” I led her through a side door, where sleek massage tables and treatment rooms awaited. “The staff is on speed dial. You can book any service you like while you’re here. There’s a sauna and a hot tub and literally the softest towels you’ll ever use.”

Her narrow-eyed expression didn’t change but I noticed her eyes linger on the cozy treatment chairs.

“And here’s the gym,” I said as we stepped into a state-of-the-art facility. “Top of the line equipment. Plus, I have access to trainers and nutritionists who the celebrities go to.” I grinned and gave her a playful smack on the ass. “Though I’d rather you not spend too much time in here, to be honest.”

She yelped, whirling around to swat my hand away. “How dare you!”

“What?” I held up my hands in mock innocence. “You’re my fiancée.”

Her eyes narrowed to slits. “That doesn’t give you the right to touch me. Just because there’s a contract doesn’t mean?—”

“I apologize,” I interrupted, still grinning. “You’re right. But for the record, your curves are something else. It’d be a shame to lose them. In fact, I might just lock this room. I don’t ever want you in here.”

Her lips parted like she wanted to argue, but she clamped them shut, her cheeks tinged pink. “I do exercise. Trust me, my curves are more stubborn than you are. They aren’t going anywhere.”

“Good.”

I took her through the kitchen, with its gleaming marble counters and a fridge that could feed a small army, then through the dining room and dining hall.

“This is absurd,” she muttered.

“Thank you,” I shot back. “That’s sort of the point.”

Smirking, I led her into the ballroom.

“Of course there’s a ballroom,” she said, throwing her hands up. “You throw a lot of balls, Roman? You a big ball man?”

I chuckled. “Not so much, but my parents used to throw lavish parties here,” I explained, glancing at the polished dance floor. “It’s mostly unused now, but who knows? Maybe we’ll host something while you’re living here.”

“Don’t hold any balls on my account,” she said with a glimmer of amusement in her eyes.

“Noted,” I said, wondering if she was warming up a little.

Finally, we reached the staircase that spiraled up to the second floor. Before we ascended, she stopped, her gaze locking onto a pair of double doors on the other side of the foyer.

“What’s in there?” she asked.

Curious . I liked that. “Some would call this the crown jewel of the entire estate.”

I pushed the doors open, revealing my library. The room was a masterpiece—floor-to-ceiling shelves lined with books of every kind, rolling ladders to reach the higher levels, and a massive window that overlooked the grounds. The window was covered with a protective film to keep from damaging the book covers. Some were hundreds of years old.

The library was filled with dark wood and leather furniture that looked soft as a cloud, a perfect spot to relax and get lost in the pages of a book. There was a fireplace in one corner, with more padded chairs surrounding it. The smell of old books was something I’d always appreciated. It was warm, inviting, and utterly breathtaking.

Kaira stepped inside like she was in a trance. “This is heaven.”

“Well, it’s yours to access anytime you like,” I said. “While you’re living here.”

She didn’t say anything, but the way her fingers brushed over the spines of the books spoke volumes. Finally, something had caught her interest. She pulled out a tattered copy of “Wuthering Heights” and traced the embossed title with her fingertip. “How did you get this many books?”

“Some were my father’s,” I explained, watching how the dim light played over her face, softening her initial displeasure into something more like wonder. “Others, I added over the years.”

Kaira turned to face me, her earlier defensiveness fading into the background. “You must love reading a lot.”

“I do.” I stepped closer, pointing to a section of the shelves painted in a slightly darker shade. “That’s my favorite area. It’s filled with first editions and rare manuscripts. Feel free to explore them, just handle with care. They’re irreplaceable.”

Her eyes widened as she stepped toward the section, gently pulling out a leather-bound volume. “I’ve never seen so many first editions in one place,” she whispered, almost to herself.

I chuckled softly. “I suppose it’s just one of those passions that’s easy to feed when you have the means.”

“I don’t even want to think about how much value is in this room,” she murmured.

“Shall we move on?” I said. “You’ll have plenty of time to explore the collection.”

She nodded and gave one last longing look at the room. I closed the doors and led her back to the staircase. We climbed up to the next floor and turned down the wide hall toward the room she would be occupying. Her suite was the last stop. It was one of the finest rooms in the house—a private retreat with massive windows, a fireplace surrounded by plush sofas, and a walk-in closet bigger than most apartments.

“You’ll have your own bathroom and a coffee bar,” I said as she stepped inside, her wide eyes taking it all in. “I’ll have the closet stocked with clothes. You’ll need to look the part of my fiancée.”

She turned to me, her arms crossed again. “And what exactly does that mean? You’re going to dress me up like a little doll?”

“It means elegant,” I said, leaning against the doorframe. “Classy. Confident.”

“Expensive,” she added, rolling her eyes.

“That too. But you’ll have plenty of options and you can tell me if you want anything in particular.”

She walked to the window, looking out at the grounds, then back at me.

“Will this do?” I asked, spreading my arms.

She hesitated for a moment, then nodded slowly. “It’ll do.”

Victory . Again.