Billionaire Boss's Unexpected Child

“Susan said she delivered your things to your apartment,” he says, and I force myself to look calm.

“Tell her thank you for me,” I say, and he nods.

“She said you told her to

take everything,” he says.

“Well, it’s better than having her have to do it later and waste her time.”

“So you’re not staying tonight, then?”

I study him. His tone doesn’t give anything away, and his face is expressionless.

“Our agreement ends at midnight,” I say softly.

After a moment, he nods. “So it does. Your fee has been released, so it should be in your account now.”

“Thank you.”

He nods. We’ve covered business. If he has anything to say to me, anything outside the realm of the agreement we’ve made, any sign that this means more to him than a business transaction, this would be the time to say it.

I’ve stopped breathing.

“Well. We should get going then,” he says, setting his glass down. It’s like a punch to the stomach, a twist of the knife to my heart, how calmly, how casually he says it. It takes every bit of my acting skill not to let on how much he just hurt me.

He starts moving toward the door, and I follow, keeping my eyes straight ahead, my chin up.

Stupid little girl, thinking he saw you as something more than a hired escort and a convenient fuck, an insidious voice in my mind sneers. I knew better. But I wanted to believe so much more.

The ride in the limousine to the venue for the gala is mostly silent. After a while, Dante glances up at me.

“We’re almost there,” he says, and I nod.

“This gala…it’s in honor of me,” he says, and I raise my eyebrows. “I’m getting an award for my charity work. I’ve won several awards over the last few years, but this one means the most. It’s a first step toward what I want to do with my life.”

“Congratulations, Dante.”

He meets my eyes. “My father is pleased with the PR this will give the company. I know you know what this means to me. It’ll be nice having someone there who gets it.”

There’s a tightness in my chest, and I force myself not to cry. Lonely rich boy, unable to tell anyone other than his hired escort what really matters to him. I feel sorry for him, but I’m angry with him, too.

He could have someone by his side, understanding what matters to him. But as far as I can tell, he hasn’t even considered that we could have that.

“Well. Maybe you should let other people in. Let them know how deeply you care about this.”

He shakes his head. “That would require getting any of them to stop and listen.”

I don’t have an answer to that, so I go back to looking out the window.

When we arrive at the venue, the driver helps me out of the car, and Dante is by my side in an instant. There are photographers, reporters, and they start snapping photos of us immediately. Dante smiles and waves, and I manage a few smiles of my own. When we step inside, the ballroom is full of men in tuxes, women in evening gowns. A string quartet plays, and tuxedoed waiters snake between chatting groups of people, offering canapés or flutes of champagne.

***

Dante

Samantha is by my side, and I’m being honored for doing work that matters to me. This is something I’ve dreamed of, and yet none of it feels right.

I want to tell her so badly. I want to tell her I need her, that I want her to stay in my life. I want to beg her to move in with me, but I haven’t been able to say the words to her. She’s so distant tonight. When I got the call from Susan that she’d had Samantha’s things moved back into her apartment, it was like being sucker-punched in the balls. I can’t lose her.