Page 8 of Battle with a Billionaire

“No, I will not let it go, Julia,” he shouted after her as she hurried down the stairs into the foyer. “Not while you’re trapped in a loveless marriage.”

She reached the marble floor, her footsteps echoing in the massive space as she spun to face him. “That’s my choice. Now, please stop.”

He closed the gap between them with a shake of his head. “No, Julia. I love you. And I–”

He squeezed his lips together, his features pinching before he reached for her. With her cheeks cupped in his hands, he pulled her closer, his lips pressing against hers in an unexpected kiss that made her freeze.

As their lips met, a storm of conflicting emotions raged within her. Surprise, guilt, confusion, empathy–they all melded into a turbulent sea as she stood too stunned to move.

CHAPTER 3

GRANT

Grant drummed his fingers on the desk as the trees bent outside his window, blown by the strong wind that promised to bring a storm later today. Would there be more storms in his own life, too?

He dug into his pocket, wincing not just from the pain of his still-delicate surgical wounds but also from the ache of uncertainty. The fear of another rejection loomed large in his mind, contrasting sharply with the hope he had for his relationship with Julia.

His fingers wrapped around a velvet box, and he set it on the desk in front of him. He stared down at it, wanting to open it, but dreading to stare at that ring.

It meant too much to him, both his past and his future.

His fingers drummed out a nervous rhythm on the desk before he grabbed the box and snapped it open. The diamond inside sparkled under the ambient lighting of his office. Much smaller than the rock she wore on her finger now, he hoped Julia liked it.

He wanted to present it as a symbol of their new commitment, shedding away any contracts and replacing them with real commitment. His grandmother’s ring had more sentimental value to him than anything he could purchase in a jewelry store no matter how many carats it was.

The memory of his grandmother giving it to him flitted through his mind. “Give it to the woman who truly captures your heart,” she had said. And those words resonated for the first time now.

He smiled at it. As his eyes lingered on the ring, a symbol of the future he yearned for, his mind flashed to a series of memories of her. Tiny moments that had led to the largest revelation of his life: her laugh at their wedding, her entrance into the gala days after they’d wed, her still in the ballgown as she waited at the police station for him, the simple way she adjusted his tie. They’d all represented moments when the facade of their contractual marriage had slipped into something more real. Could he bridge the gap between contract and connection? Uncertainty gnawed at him.

He’d never given it to another woman. Not Lydia or the string of women who had followed her. His grandmother had told him to give it to the right woman. He’d finally found her. After half a century of living, he’d finally found the woman worthy of wearing this ring on her finger.

But the bigger question was…would she accept it? They’d spent a year surviving highs and lows, developing a connection, but would it hold up? He wasn’t certain she’d be interested.

With a sigh, he closed the box and tightened his fist around it. He’d make this work. He had to. She meant too much to him.

Maybe he’d let things settle for a week or two, allow her to adjust to her new role as CEO of Harrington Global. Once she had that control of her new domain, he’d sweep her off her feet.

A trip to Paris, or maybe Italy. A candlelit dinner, a string quartet playing soft music in the background. They’d drink champagne, they’d dance under the stars, and he’d present her with the ring.

“Julia, you mean more to me than a contract,” he’d tell her. “You mean everything to me. And I want to cancel our contract and have a real marriage.”

The corners of his lips turned up as he imagined her smile, her eyes sparkling as she threw her arms around his neck and accepted his offer. And then their lips would meet…

The image shattered into a million pieces as voices sounded outside his office. Through the slightly open doors, he recognized Julia, though he couldn’t make out her words. Her voice sounded strained, stressed.

A male voice answered her. His knuckles turned white around the ring box as he recognized his son’s voice.

Julia stumbled onto the marble floor, her features pinched with upset and her fingers combing through her hair, betraying her inner turmoil. She whipped around to face the stairs, throwing her hands out to her sides in frustration. “That’s my choice. Now, please stop.”

He pinched his eyebrows as Kyle closed the distance between them. “No, Julia. I love you. And I–”

Grant’s jaw unhinged at his son’s words, but it was what he witnessed next that shocked him. Kyle cupped her cheeks in his hands, pulled her closer, and kissed her.

For a moment, Grant sat stunned before anger burned through him. He leapt from his seat, shoving the ring box into his pocket as he stormed forward, driven by a surge of protectiveness.

His hands wrapped around his son’s shoulders as he yanked him away from Julia. “Get your hands off my wife.”

He tossed the man back a few steps, placing himself between Julia and Kyle. Julia stumbled back a step, her eyes still wide with shock. She pressed her fingers to her lips where his son’s had just been, her fingers slightly shaking.

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