Page 65 of The Billionaire's Accidental Legacy

“I think most people don’t know that. And it’s what causes a lot of the great strife in the world.”

“Humans are needlessly complicated,” she said.

“On that, we can agree.”

They ended up walking along the river and stopping at various market stalls.

He bought her lunch at a café, and then they continued to walk until they got to the Musée d’Orsay.

“I could take you to the Louvre, but I confess that I prefer this one.”

“Why is that?”

“It’s more than expected.”

“I just think you’re a hipster,” she said.

And much to her surprise, he laughed. “That’s a new one. I’ve never been accused of that before.”

“Have you ever known anyone well enough to have them accuse you of anything?”

He looked at her for a long moment. “No.”

Her delight in everything was infectious.

She was odd. And he hadn’t noticed how much that was true when she had been playing the part of the seductress the night she had won the poker game. When she was angry, her quirks were also not as apparent.

But he was peeling back the layers on her, and he could see that it was true. She didn’t have experience getting to know someone. Not outside of a con.

It was something they had in common. Because he wasn’t certain when he’d last gotten to know someone, either.

She had appreciated everything, but when they walked into the museum, everything was different. She looked around; her jaw dropped as they walked through the first wing, filled with statuary. Then they made their way through various art exhibits, and she took everything in, and he wondered what it would be like to remember every detail. Of such beauty.

There was a van Gogh display in a black room where your senses were cut off from everything but the gloriously detailed artwork.

And when Jessie stood in front ofStarry Night, her hands clasped tightly and pressed against her chest, he watched as tears formed at the corners of her eyes and slid down her cheeks.

“Are you all right?”

“Yes,” she said. “It’s just... I’ve seen this painting. It isn’t the same. It isn’t the same as seeing it in person. And I will remember every detail of this forever. And what a gift. To be given such a beautiful memory.”

Memories.

The most valuable gift that can ever be given to her, because they were indelible.

His chest felt like it had been split with a large ax. Because he had never given to anyone before.

Revenge was a selfish pursuit. He had been consumed in his own need to harm his father for so many years that he... He had not made connections.

He had lost touch with those friends from school as he had made himself into a crasser version of himself as the years went on and he’d perfected his facade.

But this was real. The joy on her face. The way that she looked at him.

There was no artifice here. No revenge, no con.

Just connection.

And it did something to him. Shifted something inside him. Changed him. Utterly. Absolutely.

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