Page 49 of Billionaire's Second Chance

"Then, this victory is yours!" I raised my glass again and caught her eyes with mine. "Thank you."

"I wish it didn't have to be like that," she said, her eyes growing weary. "I don't see how any of this can be labeled as a win. It's still a huge mess. And people are still hurt."

Her words ripped through my soul. A part of me hoped she'd be more shallow and let go of all our problems. But with each passing second, I saw more of her genuine spirit.

"Ava, I beg you. Please stop worrying about everything. I'll take care of it, I promise," I tried to console her. "This is everyday life for me. These things happen all the time."

"Damon, I need to know once and for all," she bore her blue eyes into mine. "Did you lure Lily into sleeping with you by offering her a role?"

"That is the farthest from the truth," I explained, risking to sound arrogant. "Do you think I need to buy anyone's affection? She offered herself to me. Two consenting adults. That's all there is to it."

Ava didn't respond. She dug out a fresh piece of tomato and served it to her lips. "Why didn't you ever call me?"

Her question startled me, but I remained poised. I should have expected it sooner or later. I had thought about the answer many times since I met her again a few weeks ago.

"Because I never call anyone," I replied, looking down at my plate. "I had decided that long before I met you. You know how it goes, it takes is one good heartbreak, and you're never the same."

"And I was just collateral damage." She shrugged.

"You were, and are, amazing," I raised my voice. "Don't ever speak of yourself that way. I had nothing to offer you, Ava. I only wanted to make a name for myself back then."

"You were born with a name, Damon! Everyone knew you before you even knew yourself," she exclaimed.

"You have no idea what it's like to be Francis Alexander's son," I explained, feeling my blood boil. "I hated that label. I still do. I'm nothing like him, and I spend every waking moment trying to prove it to the world. Sometimes I even think my reluctance to have a relationship is only to prove that we're different. He was always the family man. And I'm the Playboy."

Ava's eyes grayed out as I spoke. "That's a sad way to live."

"Ah, don't you worry about me. This old chap can change." I smiled, trying to lighten up the mood. My own vulnerability surprised me, leaving a sour taste in my mouth.

She forced a smile, but I could see discomfort lingering in her gaze.

"About your heartbreak," she asked quietly. "Who was she?"

The thought of boring her with my sob stories made me queasy. "Can I offer you a dance instead of a sob story? Please?"

With that, I left my chair and stepped in front of hers. She took my hand, and I pulled her slender body in.

The gentle splashing of the sea waves against the yacht synchronized with Etta James's voice oozing from the sound system. Our hearts thumped in rhythm.

My hand traced her back, and we both looked at each other, smiling at the memory of our experience on set.

"I wanted to kill you when you did that on set," she whispered in my ear, sending chills down my spine.

"And I wanted to kill Derek," I joked.

Her hands wrapped around my waist. I lifted her chin with my fingers, our eyes locked, and our lips joined.

"I can't be trusted around you, Ava," I moaned.

"I'm afraid I can't either."

My hands slid under her flowing dress, up her thighs, and squeezed her soft cheeks. My dick hardened.

She felt it. Her hand made its way to my groins, and she traced her fingers over my bulge, feeling it stiffen under her touch.

Her head turned toward the deck, and her eyes roamed our surroundings as if to validate that no one was around.

"Are we alone?" She asked timidly.

---