Chapter 13
13
KAIRA
T he weight of the week hit me all at once, like a dam breaking. Roman stood before me in the most beautiful room I had ever seen, asking if it would do for the next six months—as though I were somehow making a compromise by staying here.
Did he have any idea what my tiny bedroom back home looked like? How often Carla and I ate ramen noodles dressed up because we paid rent and bills and had little money left for food? But no, he didn’t have any idea.
He had grown up rich and he’d made a solid fortune of his own in the past decade. He’d never had to check his account balance before buying groceries, not that he did any of his own shopping. It was such a different life than the one I knew.
We lived in the same world, the same country, the same city, but he was a god while I was an ant just trying not to get stepped on.
I nodded mutely, unable to force words past the tightness in my throat. I wouldn’t cry in front of him. I couldn’t. Not in front of a man who would never understand going to bed hungry. No, I was going to keep myself composed, though my head swam with the opulence around me.
He must have sensed my mood shift because he took a step closer, frowning slightly. “What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice softer than I’d expected. “Did I say the wrong thing?”
I shook my head quickly, my jaw clenched against the emotion threatening to spill over.
His frown deepened. “Can I get you something? Sparkling water?”
I shook my head again, looking away. I was going to turn into a blubbering mess at any second.
Then, suddenly, his hand was on my shoulder. The contact immediately had my attention. I was no longer thinking about crying. It was like getting zapped by electricity. His thumb tipped my chin up gently, forcing me to meet his gaze. His hazel eyes locked onto mine, disarming me completely.
“Tell me what you need, Kaira,” he said, his voice low and intimate.
That was all it took for a tear to escape. I cursed myself silently, but before I could pull away, he caught it with his thumb, brushing it away with a tenderness I didn’t think he possessed.
I turned my face, trying to put distance between us, but his hand remained steady. Instead of letting me retreat, he stepped closer, and before I realized what was happening, his arms wrapped around me in a steadying embrace.
At first, I was too shocked to react. But then the exhaustion, frustration, and relief of the past few days broke through my defenses. I sank into his arms, resting my head against his chest. His cologne was warm and woodsy, comforting in a way I hadn’t expected. I felt the tension in my body start to unravel, even as tears soaked his expensive shirt.
“I’m sorry,” I muttered, my voice muffled. “I’m being such a baby. I just, well, I guess I really needed life to give me a break, and it finally did.”
He held me. “Sounds like we found each other at the right time.”
“Thank you,” I said softly.
His hand moved up my back, a slow, soothing motion that sent a rush of heat through me. My breath hitched and I tilted my head back to look at him. His eyes searched mine, something softer and more vulnerable than I’d ever seen flickering there. I had to look at him to make sure it was really him offering such comfort. The man I was convinced was nothing but solid ice under the hard body was acting human.
Maybe he had some chocolate chips in him after all.
My heart pounded. My body felt too warm, too aware of the man standing so close. His gaze flicked to my lips.
What was he doing?
“Roman…” I whispered, unsure if it was a warning or a plea.
And then he kissed me.
His lips were warm and firm, his touch commanding yet careful. I melted into him, my body responding instinctively as his arms tightened around me, pulling me closer. A part of me screamed that this was a terrible idea, but I couldn’t stop. His kiss ignited something deep and primal inside me, something I hadn’t felt in years.
This can’t be happening.
I let myself fall into the sensation for a moment longer before reality crashed back down. What was I doing? I couldn’t let myself get carried away by him of all people.
I pulled back abruptly, pressing my fingers to my tingling lips. “I… I have to go,” I stammered.
“Kaira—”
“I have to go,” I repeated, stepping away before he could stop me.
I turned and fled. My footsteps echoed through the massive house as I passed the library without sparing it a second glance. My heart raced for an entirely different reason now.
Roman’s driver was waiting by the sleek black car and he opened the door for me without a word. I climbed in, slamming the door harder than I meant to.
As we pulled away from the estate, I leaned back against the seat and let out a shaky breath. My lips still tingled from the kiss, and my chest felt tight with a mix of anger, confusion, and something I didn’t want to name.
“You’re quiet,” the driver said, glancing at me in the rearview mirror.
I crossed my arms. “Just processing.”
“Are you okay?”
I heard the concern. This guy worked for Roman and was probably used to women running out of his boss’s house in tears.
“I’m fine. I just… I don’t know.”
“Did you accept the offer?” he asked.
“I accepted,” I said. Saying it to someone else made it real.
He chuckled softly. “It’ll be nice to have someone new around for the next six months. Driving Mr. Kelly around can get… interesting.”
I snorted. “Interesting? Or infuriating?”
The driver’s eyes twinkled with amusement in the mirror. “A little of both.”
“Yeah, he can be a total asshat,” I said before I could stop myself.
The driver burst out laughing. “On some days.”
I smiled faintly despite myself. “How do you put up with him?”
He shrugged. “I understand him, I guess. He’s lost a lot.”
That made me pause. “Lost? He has more than anyone I’ve ever met.”
“From the outside looking in, sure,” he said, meeting my gaze briefly in the mirror.
I frowned, filing that away for later. There was clearly more to Roman Kelly than met the eye, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to unravel that particular mystery. This was a temporary business arrangement. No sense in getting my feelings tangled up in it. Better for Roman to remain a locked puzzle box.
For now, I needed someone to talk to. Carla was at work, so I asked the driver to take me there. I didn’t want to go home and spin out thinking about what I had just agreed to. I needed Carla to tell me I wasn’t crazy. Or that I was crazy and needed to tell him hell no, it was never going to happen.
“Of course,” the driver said.
He flipped the turn signal and maneuvered through the traffic. My mind was a whirl of emotions—frustration, longing, fear, excitement—all tangled together like a messy ball of yarn. Part of me was still thinking I was caught in some wild dream and I was going to wake up at any second. This was not the kind of thing that happened to people like me.
“I’m Anthony, by the way,” he said. “I’m sure we’ll be spending some time together.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Anthony. I hope you’ll call me Kaira.”
“Of course.”
When he pulled to a stop at the bar, I thanked him and hurried out, not giving him a chance to open the door for me this time. The bar’s familiar noise greeted me. It wasn’t exactly swanky. It was all very casual with blue-collar people hanging out. The music was just loud enough to drown out the noise, but not too loud that you couldn’t have a conversation.
I found Carla behind the bar chatting with a couple of other people. When she saw me, she looked at me with surprise. “What are you doing here?”
“I needed to talk to you.”
“Is everything okay?” she asked.
“I don’t know.”
“That sounds like a no. What happened?”
I slid onto a stool and slumped over the bar. “I’ll tell you if you get me a soda.”
She smiled. “Going right for the hard stuff?”
“I need caffeine but no booze. My brain is fried enough as it is.”
She poured me a Coke with extra ice and set it in front of me, leaning on the bar with an expectant expression. “Spill. What fried your brain? Not meth, right?”
I barked out a laugh. “No, Carla, I didn’t do meth for the first time today. I’m not breaking bad.”
I told her everything—about the ridiculous proposal, the stunning mansion, the library, the room that was too perfect to believe. I even told her about the kiss, though I skimmed over how much it had affected me.
Carla’s jaw dropped. “You kissed him?”
“He kissed me ,” I corrected, my cheeks burning. “And it was a mistake. A huge, stupid mistake. Talk about complicating our business arrangement.”
“But you’re doing it, right? The whole fake fiancée thing?”
I hesitated, taking a long sip of my soda. “I think I have to. It’s a lot of money.”
“Not just for the money, although that’s a huge perk,” Carla said. “You deserve six months of luxury, seeing how the one percent lives. And think of it as a writing retreat! You could finally finish that book you’ve been talking about.”
I laughed weakly. “I don’t know if I can write while dealing with Roman Kelly every day.”
“You can handle him,” she said confidently. “As long as you keep it in your pants. If you catch feelings for this guy, you’re setting yourself up for heartache.”
“I’m not going to fall for him,” I said.
“And yet, you two are already locking lips and you haven’t even moved in yet.”
I shook my head. “A momentary lapse in judgment. Don’t worry. His personality will keep me from falling for him. I can assure you of that.”
“Maybe he’s not as bad as he seems,” Carla said.
I raised an eyebrow.
“Okay, he’s probably worse,” she admitted, smirking. “But you’ll survive. And who knows? You might even enjoy it.”
I doubted that. But as I sipped my soda and listened to Carla ramble about all the ways I could take advantage of the situation, I couldn’t help but feel a glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, this would be the opportunity I needed to get my life on track.
“Think about the material you’ll gather for your book. All those eccentric rich folks? It’s gold!” She wiped down the bar, then leaned closer as if sharing a secret. “Plus, you’ll be living there. You can snoop around—legally. I bet he’s got a fancy toilet. The kind with buttons and a seat warmer.”
I chuckled, but her words stuck with me. It was true. Living in that mansion offered a rare window into a world I had never known and would never know again. It was a chance to observe the quirks and secrets of the wealthy. How they spoke, what they valued, their everyday dramas—it was a rare chance to experience it, and experience was what writers turn into stories.
“You’re right,” I conceded. “It’s an opportunity. I just have to keep my head clear.” My cheeks burned just thinking about that kiss. “He chose me because I’m disposable. When he tosses me to the curb in six months, his world won’t be affected since I’m not a part of it and I never will be.”
She shrugged. “Maybe so, but it’s not like you’re not getting something out of this.”
I sighed, playing with the condensation on my glass. “This is so weird, right? Like who hires a woman to pretend to be his fiancée? Especially when he could have any woman.”
Carla grinned. “The women who want him will also want to stick around after six months. With a business arrangement, things should be less complicated. In theory.”
I took another sip of my soda, the bubbles tickling my nose. “Still weird.”
“Hey, it’s not every day you get to play Cinderella.”
“Cinderella didn’t have to deal with paparazzi and social media, though,” I countered, feeling the weight of the public eye on my shoulders already.
Carla laughed. “True, but she did have to deal with a wicked stepmother and stepsisters. You just have to handle one wealthy businessman. How hard can it be?”
“I guess when you put it that way,” I said, trying to find the humor in the situation.
“So, when do you move in?” Carla asked, breaking me from my thoughts.
“Monday.”
She looked just as stunned as I felt. “Holy shit.”
“Yeah. Maybe pour me something stronger than soda.”