Page 128 of Billionaire Romance

She grabs my arm halfway out the door. Her hands settles on the bag. “I can’t believe this. Are you really buying an engagement ring for her?” She practically shouts the latter half of the sentence, and the moment I stick my head out the door, I can see why. The street is crammed with people. Some of them no doubt recognized Lily from her YouTube channel and stopped to watch her. More still, unfortunately, seem to recognize me, once they catch a glimpse. More camera phones appear in every direction.

Fuck.

“Lily, this is none of your business.” I try to walk away but find myself walled in by the crowd.

“None of my business?” She storms after me. “How is it none of my business that you cheated on me with some hooker in Hawaii?”

“She’s not a hooker!” I turn on her, face red, fists balled. It takes effort to reign myself in. I can’t do this. I can’t break down and fight in public. It’s not a good look, no matter who Lily is, no matter what she’s done to me. “Don’t talk about her like you know her. You don’t know either of us, Lily, especially not me.”

“I loved you. And this is how you treat me?” She’s good. She even has fake tears glittering in her eyes.

I have to resist the urge to roll mine. I wonder if she’s been taking acting classes. “You never loved me, Lily, you loved the attention. Even now.” I fling my arms out and turn in a slow circle, gesturing at everyone in attendance. “The Lily show is on air. That’s all I ever was to you, Lil. A prop. A means to an end. You wanted more fame than you had before, more money, more attention. Well, now you have it. I hope you and your fame are very, very happy together. But I’m done being used. I’ve found something real.”

“Good. I’m glad for you.” Her words stop me dead in my tracks.

I frown. “Thank you,” I say, after a long, uncertain pause.

“And you’re right. I’m sorry for how I’ve treated you.”

Now I’m outright staring. Who is this, and what has she done with my ex-girlfriend? The cameras are still rolling. Is she just apologizing for them? I glance around in confusion, then shrug. “It’s in the past,” I say.

“But I want to make up for it,” she says.

Oh no. Here we go. The catch.

She smiles at me, sweet as rotten honey. “Maybe I can give Sinclair a makeover. After all, if she’s going to date you, she’s going to need to learn how to put on a good face for the cameras; god knows she needs all the help she can get.”

That does it. Any patience I had remaining frays and snaps. “Sinclair is more beautiful, inside and out, than you will ever be,” I snarl. With that, I shove my way through the crowd, ignoring the flash of cameras, the pointed videos stuck right in my face.

“Mr. Helmtree! Mr. Helmtree!” I hear voices on all sides, people shouting, asking for comments. Reporters. Paparazzi. Fuck. They must have gotten wind of the argument, or maybe just seen somebody posting about this on Twitter. Hell, they could have just looked at Lily’s social media.

It takes longer than I’d like to extricate myself from the mob. In the end, I have to call Jonathan, who speeds up to the curb so fast he nearly hits a few guys standing in the middle of the street filming. They leap out of the way, cursing, and that, at least, makes me smile, if a little grimly.

I climb into the backseat, fending off more cameras as I go, and finally slam the door against the outside world and all its bullshit. “The office,” I tell him with a groan. “I’m supposed to meet Sinclair near there for dinner in an hour. But we’re going to have to think of some way to keep Sinclair off social media for the next few days.”

The last thing I want is a terrible person like Lily spoiling this proposal with an ill-timed video. Sinclair can’t find out what really just happened here today. Not until I give her this ring and find out her answer.

The nerves churn in my gut. I love her. And I know she loves me. But is she going to want to deal with this kind of shit her entire life? People like Lily getting overly attached or dramatic just to attract followers and attention and money? I wouldn’t blame her if she wanted to opt out. I tell myself that if Sinclair says no, I have to respect that.

Even if it makes me crazy just imagining it. I need her.

But if she doesn’t want this, I won’t be like her ex. I won’t hurt her or use her. If she doesn’t want to be with me, I’ll let her go.