Page 132 of Dial B for Billionaire

She pulls back just enough to meet my eyes, and what I see there makes my chest cave in. Want. Love. Confusion. Pain. Everything I've put her through warring with everything we are together.

“This doesn't solve anything,” she says, but her body contradicts her words, still molded to mine.

“It's a start.” I frame her face with my hands, thumbs tracing her cheekbones. “I love you, Layla. I should have said it before, but I'm saying it now.”

Her eyes widen, filling with tears she refuses to let fall. “Bennett.”

“I know you love me too. You said it that night.”

“Yes,” she admits, the word barely audible. “As if I could stop. But love isn't enough if we want completely different things. I can't just pretend the last week didn't happen. That Phase Two doesn't exist. That you weren't planning to take it all away while I was falling for you.”

The words hit like physical blows, but I don't flinch. Can't. Not when she's finally talking to me.

“You're right,” I say, my hands sliding down to her waist because letting go isn't an option. “I was. But I'm not anymore.”

“What does that mean?”

Before I can answer, the music changes to something faster, more upbeat. Couples around us shift into different formations, but we remain frozen in our bubble of tension and need.

“It means I scrapped Phase Two,” I tell her. “Completely. Started over.”

Her eyes widen. “You what?”

“The board meeting is Thursday. I'm presenting a new plan. One that keeps your father's position. Maintains the campus. Preserves the majority of current jobs instead of eliminating them.”

She stares at me like I've grown a second head. “That's... that's impossible. The numbers don't work.”

“They do if I bring in a partner. Someone who understands what Carmichael Innovations could be.”

“A partner?” Her brow furrows. “What kind of partner?”

This isn't how I planned to tell her. I'd imagined a private conversation, somewhere we could talk without prying eyes watching our every move. But looking at her now—beautiful, vulnerable, teetering on the edge of walking away forever—I can't wait.

“James Tech.” I gesture to where Landon and Willa stand near the bar, watching us with barely concealed interest. “Landon wants to expand their medical outreach programs. NeuraTech could revolutionize treatment for thousands of kids who can't access care now.”

“That's why they invited me? To discuss a partnership?”

“I reached out to Landon. Explained what we're trying to do, what your technology could become in the right hands.” I struggle to keep my voice steady. “Turns out, he's been following your father’s work for years. Calledyoubrilliant. Said NeuraTech's applications for cognitive development could change lives.”

She's quiet for so long I start to panic. We've stopped dancing entirely now, just standing in the middle of the floor while couples move around us like water around a stone.

“You did all this... for me?” Her voice is barely a whisper.

“For us,” I correct. “For the future I want with you. For the company you love. For the people who matter to you.” I take a shaky breath. “I can't promise it'll be perfect. The board might still fight me. Some positions will have to change. But it's better, Layla. So much better than what I originally planned.”

Tears spill over now, tracking down her cheeks in silver streams. “Why didn't you tell me sooner? Why did you let me think?—”

“Because I'm a coward,” I admit, the words scraping my throat raw. “Because I've never had to consider anyone else's feelings before. Because I didn't know how to be the man you needed me to be.”

Her hands come up to rest on my chest, and I can feel her trembling. “And now?”

“Now I'm learning. Slowly. Badly. But I'm trying.” I cover her hands with mine. “I want to be better for you, Layla. I want to be someone who sees beyond profit margins and market share. Someone who understands that companies are made of people with dreams and families and hopes.” I search her eyes. “I'd rather be a man you can love than a billionaire you can't.”

Tears finally spill over, tracking down her cheeks. “Bennett...”

“I'm not asking you to take me at my word,” I say, brushing the tears from her cheeks with my thumbs. “But if you’ll let me, I can show you.”

Her breath catches. “You can show me? Here?”

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