Page 58 of Starting Over with Her Billionaire Boss

Daegan leaned in to place a gentle kiss on her forehead. “Drive safe. And goodnight, baby.”

That word didn’t make her heart race anymore; instead, it felt strangely empty. As she drove home, the weight of her doubts settled heavily on her shoulders.Was this real? Or was I just fooling myself?

But as the road stretched before her, another thought crept in, soft but persistent:What if it is real? What if I’m just panicking over nothing?

Hope and fear battled within her, leaving her unsure of which would win. The only thing she knew for certain was that she had to find the answer. This wasn’t just about Daegan anymore. This was about what she wanted, what she was willing to fight for.

As Kinsley pulled into her driveway, a quiet determination settled over her. She wouldn’t let her doubts control her. If this was love—real love—she would fight for it. And if it wasn’t? She would walk away with her head held high.

14

The meeting should have endedan hour ago, but it was dragging on like an anchor in the sand. Daegan’s patience had worn thin, though his outward calm betrayed none of it. Every tick of the clock felt like a jab to his ribs, a reminder of all the other things demanding his attention—things far more pressing than another circular discussion.

“So,” Daegan interrupted, cutting through the room’s idle chatter, “are we finished with updates on new construction and potential properties?” He leaned forward, knuckles pressing into the polished wood of the table.

The room grew silent, with only a sea of nods.

“Nothing more about the properties along the coast in Florida? That would make a great resort area.” Daegan directed his question at Judy.

“They won’t budge off their initial amount. I’ve tried for weeks,” Judy responded.

“That’s too overpriced. They’re crazy. You can tell them Mr. Westerhouse said when they’re tired of sitting on it and want it sold, call me.”

“Yes, Mr. Westerhouse,” Judy replied, scribbling down a note.

“Mr. Westerhouse,” Thomas spoke up. “Any news on the property that Kinsley owns? Is she willing to sell?”

The room fell into a heavy silence, all eyes fixed on him.

Daegan paused, a warmth coming over him with a nervousness he rarely felt. How could he go back to talking about Kinsley’s house like it was just another piece of land? It was her family history, and here he was, discussing it as if it were a line item on a budget sheet.

“I’m working on it, Thomas. It’s a...delicate matter,” he said evenly, his words carefully measured. “Situations like this require time, understanding, and care.” Daegan’s voice was firm. He couldn’t let them know he was having doubts, especially after the weekend they had spent in each other’s arms.

“But it’s still a possibility?” Thomas asked.

“Absolutely,” he said, the word heavy on his tongue. “I’m working on it.”

The lie felt like a splinter lodged in his chest. He wasn’t working on it—not in the way they thought. What he was working on was convincing himself that losing the house might be worth it, if it meant he could keep Kinsley. And yet, his silence made him complicit in the game they all thought he was playing.

As the meeting adjourned and the room emptied, Daegan remained seated, staring at the folder in front of him. The sleek cover bore a list of properties, numbers, opportunities—all of it meaningless compared to that old mauve Victorian with the sagging white picket fence.

For the first time in his career, he questioned if success was worth the cost. Kinsley wasn’t a line item. She was the only thing that had ever made him wonder what life could be like beyond the cold, calculated world of his career.

Kinsley’s heart shattered.How could he forget that she was responsible for listening to all his meetings and taking notes? The words she had just typed into her file felt like a knife twisting in her gut.

But there it was.

Proof.

Undeniable.

All this time, while Kinsley had been falling deeper and deeper for Daegan, his motives had remained unchanged. It wasn’t about her; it was about the house. It hadalways beenabout the house. The very thought made her feel sick and ashamed. How was she going to even walk out of this building? She’d never been so utterly humiliated.

The hollow ache in her chest intensified, a cold and unmistakable void where warmth and hope had once blossomed. The joy and connection she had found was nothing more than an illusion. In its place, only the bitter truth remained: she was alone, and she always would be.

Granny had always been her rock, her guiding light. Without her wisdom and comfort, Kinsley found herself adrift, desperately searching for the strength to pick up the pieces of her broken heart and carry on. Her hands trembled, clammy with shock and disbelief. Her breath caught in her throat, and a chill raced down her spine, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

Just hours earlier, she had been gushing to Laurel about the incredible man she was falling for, her heart soaring with each word of praise. She had painted a picture of a future filled with love and happiness. Now, the very thought of facing her co-worker had acid burning the back of her throat.

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