Page 73 of Stuck with the Billionaire Celebrity

And I believed him. I fell for him.”

The tension in her voice tells me there’s more to the story, something darker. I don’t push her, though. I know what it’s like to dredge up the past, to let someone see the wounds you’ve tried so hard to hide.

“It started small,” she continues, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Little things—controlling where I went, who I talked to.

I thought it was because he cared, that he just wanted to protect me.

But then it escalated.

Verbal abuse, manipulation...

He had this way of making me feel like everything was my fault.”

My chest tightens at the rawness in her voice, the vulnerability she’s showing for the first time since I’ve known her. It’s jarring, seeing her like this, after all the barbs we’ve exchanged, all the walls we’ve put up between us.

“I stayed for too long,” she admits. “I thought I could fix him, that if I just tried harder, everything would get better. But it didn’t. It only got worse.”

She swallows hard, her gaze distant, lost in the memories.

“I finally left when it became physical.

I don’t know why it took me so long, but when I walked out, I promised myself I’d never let anyone have that kind of power over me again.

He used to cheat on me, and so... when Alexia said those things about you, I was so triggered and…”

The room falls into silence, both of us processing the other's story. I hadn’t expected this, hadn’t anticipated that beneath her tough exterior, she was carrying around her own share of scars.

And now, knowing that we both have our pasts, our own versions of hell, something shifts between us.

“I didn’t mean to pry,” I say, my voice low, unsure of what else to say. “I…”

“It’s fine,” she interrupts, meeting my gaze. “I guess we’ve both been through some shit.”

For the first time since she walked into my life, I understand why she was initially the thorn in my side, a constant aggravation. I see her as someone who’s been broken, just like I have, and who’s still trying to piece herself back together.

“I guess we’re more alike than we realized. Probably why we couldn’t stay away from each other,” she laughs.

It’s beena month of peace and tranquility.

The red carpet stretches before us like a glowing river of flashing lights and cameras, the buzz of the crowd humming in the air as we step out of the sleek black town car.

Grace is beside me, radiant in a floor-length, shimmering emerald gown that catches the light and seems to sparkle like the stars. I catch my breath for a moment, taking in how effortlessly stunning she looks.

Her hair is swept to one side, her skin glowing under the paparazzi’s bright flashes, and I feel an overwhelming surge of pride and something deeper, more protective.

This world, the one full of cameras and headlines, hasn’t always been kind to me. But tonight, with Grace by my side, I feel like I can take on anything.

Every whisper about us being some kind of twisted fairy tale, a "Beauty and the Beast" story because of my past, fades into nothing when she glances up at me with those warm, trusting eyes.

“You ready for this?” I murmur, leaning close so only she can hear.

She smiles, her lips parting slightly, and the tension in my shoulders eases at the sight of it. “I’m always ready with you.”

I take her hand, lacing my fingers through hers, and as we step forward onto the carpet, I hear the familiar buzz of voices calling out our names.

Flashes explode around us, the shouts from the photographers growing louder, but all I can focus on is Grace’s hand in mine, her presence beside me.

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