Page 27 of Billion Dollar Revenge

I nod. That's the problem, hers is too similar to mine. The only difference is she wasn’t engaged to be married to Bobby.

My teeth grind together. Why does that thought anger me?

“Yes, and mine isn’t so different.”

I can’t believe this is seriously leaving my mouth right now. I blame the way her firm dark eyes bore into mine, and I can’t help but blurt everything to her.

I want to help her heal.

But how can I tell her how to heal if I’m still not quite there yet? And it’s been almost eight fucking years.

When I’m around Chelsea, I act differently, and it’s something I can’t ignore. The honesty in my admission catches me off guard because I haven’t felt this way in a long time…if ever. It leaves me feeling conflicted. On one hand, she challenges me to open up, but on the other, I worry that it could mean I’m losing control. What makes Chelsea special is how unafraid she is to be herself; it makes me want to push past my fears and see where this connection could lead. So, I take a deep breath and share my humiliating past.

“My fiancée cheated on me, and I found out the day we were getting married.”

She heaves an audible breath, and her eyes widen at the same time her hand flies up to cover her open mouth.

“I had naked photos sent to me as I was getting into my suit.”

Chapter 9

Evan

Reaching across the table,she lays her hand on top of mine. “I am so sorry.”

I nod, remove my hand, pick up my drink, and take a sip.

The alcohol warms me, but whether it’s the alcohol or just Chelsea’s presence, I can’t quite tell, though I find myself relaxing more than I thought. I’m shocked I confided something only my brothers know to her. I usually keep that part of my past to myself, as it’s too humiliating to speak about. I don’t want anyone feeling sorry for me, but that’s not what’s happening here. Chelsea’s reaction isn’t pity; she’s genuinely shocked.

I fall silent, not wanting to delve deeper into that topic. There’s nothing more to say. We separated, and I haven't seen or spoken to her since.

“Let’s not talk about it tonight,” Chelsea suggests, grabbing a piece of bread and taking a bite.

I’m glad she doesn’t push for more. I appreciate how she respects my need for space; she has no idea how much thatsimple little gesture affects me. I feel like I’ve known her all my life…We share the same values, want for complete honesty, and the way we appreciate genuine communication.

Chelsea looks beautiful under the dim lights, as she reclines in her chair. I shift my gaze to the bread, contemplating what to say next.

What do I really want to know?

“Are you close with your family?” I ask, grabbing a piece of bread and chewing it slowly. Her face lights up.

I ease back, relieved we left the ex conversation behind.

“I’m extremely close with my family. They are everything to me.”

I nod, my heart pounding. Another commonality we share.

“My parents actually gave me the money for the studio.”

“Where are they?”

“They don’t live here. I left my hometown in Connecticut to come to New York two years ago. I knew there were more opportunities for me as a Pilates instructor here.”

I nod once more, agreeing. The wellness scene here is thriving, so her studio has great potential to be successful.

“Why did you wait this long to start a studio?”

She seems intelligent and capable enough to have already purchased and be in business already.

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