Billionaire Beast

He smiled. “You need a chance. Everyone deserves a shot at making their dreams a reality, and I want to give you that shot. Please, Nalia, let me help you grow your talent and spread it all across the country and beyond. I just want this chance to help you make your dream come true.”

I stared at him, unable to believe what was happening. He wanted to help me become famous? That in and of itself was a dream come true. “I-I don’t understand.”

“What’s not to understand? I want to help you, Nalia,” he stated. “And all I ask for in return is that you come back on tour and help me finish it. Come to Florida with me and see this thing through. I swear, I won’t ask for anything else, and then when we're done, we can start on your album. I'll cover all the costs, of course, and give you a very handsome signing sum if you'll allow me to have the honor of adding you to the list of artists signed to my label.”

My heart hammered wildly in my chest, and I thought about the possibilities he was offering me: a recording contract, a chance to do what I loved best in the world, and a chance to live out my dreams. It was too much.

“I will even offer my vocals, if you think any tracks would benefit from them,” Owen continued, the tone in his voice becoming eager. Like he felt he needed to do or say more to convince me.

That’s when it all clicked—the roses, the candles, the bonus. This was about more than Owen offering to sign me to his record label. I knew that I should stop him, that I should tell him I was excited about the opportunity, but knowing he had done all of this just to get to talk to me, for him to need me so badly was a feeling I couldn’t describe, so I drew it out a little longer. Just the thought of what could happen had my head spinning.

“Please say yes, Nalia,” he said softly.

I walked slowly across the room, closing the gap between us and trying hard not to cry. This man was giving me a chance to live my dreams, something that, just a few minutes earlier, I had thought would never happen in my lifetime. And he was looking at me like I meant something to him. More than just a recording contract. More than just an assistant on his tour.

He was looking at me with something in his eyes I recognized. Desire. How could I say anything but yes? So, I did.

“Yes,” I said, sticking out my hand. He grabbed it and pulled me close to him, our bodies suddenly pressed against each other, unleashing a whirlwind of emotions as a result. It was going to be a difficult time on the road, I just knew it, but at that second, all I could do was lose myself in the moment.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Six Weeks Later

Owen

I faked air guitar as Jeremiah strummed the last bit of the song, the crowd going insane. After months on the road, I was kind of glad to see the tour draw to a close. We’d had a fantastic run, and now it was time to

go home.

No more touring, no more late nights, and no more of the hassles and frustration that being on the road brought with it. We were going to take a break after tonight, perhaps a long break.

It had definitely been a wild ride, and I was beyond happy that we'd done it and pulled it off so smoothly. We were back on top, and we were all over the press and the internet. To top it off, album sales had shot up as a result. People really loved our new music, too, it seemed, even though it was a bit different from the old stuff they were used to.

For our final song, it was time for something really different.

“Thank you, Chicago!” I shouted out. “We have one more song for you tonight, and it’s a special one. But first, I need a very special person to sing it to.”

The crowd went wild with women and girls alike jumping up and down for me to pick them. Not that their enthusiasm mattered. I already had a woman in mind, the one woman who had toughed it out and gone back on the road with us.

True to my word, I had allowed her to do her job, sitting back and watching her work her magic for the last two months. During our downtime on the bus and free hours in the hotels, she and I had worked closely together on writing some new material for her album.

Despite the fact that over the past two months we had stuck to our agreement to keep things strictly professional between us, I had never felt so strongly about any woman as I had about her. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that I wanted her in my life. Nalia was my other half. She just didn’t know it yet. She had turned out to be the kind of woman who I thought couldn't exist outside of the realm of dreams—except she did exist. She was real.

In spite of what was probably expected of me, I hadn’t fallen for some wild child, rock groupie. I had fallen in love with the girl next door, the girl that had me thinking about settling down, getting married, and raising a family. I had come to understand why rockers left the music scene to have another life outside of the craziness. While the fame was kickass, and the excitement and adrenaline were addictive, I had grown to prefer spending a quiet night with Nalia, going over scales for one of her beautiful songs, instead of partying or making appearances to maintain my rocker persona.

“I know I’ve kept you all waiting,” I finally said to the crowd, looking over at the wings of the stage, knowing she was standing there, “but I won’t make you wait any longer. Nalia, will you join me on stage? Everyone, welcome Ms. Nalia Dean!”

She shook her head as I motioned to her, a smile on her beautiful face. “Come on. Don’t be shy. Nalia, Nalia!” I shouted into the mic, getting the crowd behind me to chant out her name.

Finally, she walked out, embarrassment written all over her face. It was adorable. I gave her a grin and pulled her close for a tight, reassuring hug. “This is Nalia everyone. Nalia, say hi.”

“Hi,” she said into the mic shyly. The crowd started waving and shouting, and I grinned, pulling the mic back toward me. “Tonight is a very special night. It’s our last night on tour, and I thought we would end the show just a little bit differently.”

I turned toward Nalia and looked into her eyes, hoping she could see the love that was reflected in mine. It had been the hardest two months of my life keeping my distance and respecting the fact that we both needed some space to see if this was real. At least, on my end, it felt damn real. More real than anything I’d ever known. I just hoped that she felt the same way.

I nodded over her shoulder, and the band struck up a song we had been working on, one that reminded me of her. “This is called ‘Beautiful Disaster,’” I said, keeping my gaze on her. She blushed under the attention, and I launched into the lyrics, singing them from my heart.

“There was a time I couldn’t tell which way was up