Page 125 of Valentine’s Billionaire Auction

She wore a sparkling gown that shimmered with every step. Long gloves covered her arms and her red lips curved into a confident smile. Her dark hair was swept to the side, exposing the graceful curve of her neck, her collarbone, the perfect silhouette of someone who had walked straight out of my dreams.

Our eyes met, and my breath caught. She didn’t look away, didn’t falter. Instead, she smiled, bold and sure.

“One hundred and ten thousand,” she said, her voice clear and strong, cutting through the murmurs.

The room went silent.

The number hung in the air, the same bid she’d made last year. The irony wasn’t lost on me—or anyone else, judging by the collective intake of breath. Then the whispers began.

“Is that her?” someone murmured.

“I think that’s her,” another replied.

“His ex-fiancée,” a woman nearby said.

“Fake fiancée,” someone corrected, quieter.

“No, no, she’s that romance writer now.”

The auctioneer, to his credit, kept his composure. “Do I hear one-fifteen?”

No one dared to counter her bid. The room was transfixed, as if we were the only two people in it. The auctioneer’s gavel came down with a sharp crack.

“Sold to the woman in the front row!”

Applause erupted, but I barely heard it. My gaze was locked on Kaira as I stepped down from the stage. People parted to let me through, the buzz of speculation surrounding us like static electricity. I barely heard them. Hell, I barely saw anyone else.

When I reached her, she looked up at me, her smile widening. “Before you ask, no, I didn’t just spend more of your money.”

I couldn’t help but grin. “Good, because I was about to call my accountant.”

Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “This time, I think we’re worth the investment.”

The words hit me hard—in the best way. She’d come back. After everything, she was here, standing in front of me, daring me to make a choice.

My grin turned into something softer, something real. “And what if I’m not willing to let this investment walk away again?”

The crowd, the noise, the past year—it all faded into the background. All that mattered was the look in her eyes, the hope and determination that mirrored my own.

“You’re not going anywhere,” I said, my voice low and steady. I closed the distance between us, cupping her face in my hands. Her gloves were cool against my skin, her lips warm and soft as I kissed her.

The room erupted in cheers, but I barely noticed. I was hung up on the way she melted into me like she’d been waiting for this moment as long as I had.

When we finally broke apart, she was smiling, her cheeks flushed. “So, what now?” she asked, her voice teasing but tinged with something deeper.

I took her hand, lacing my fingers through hers. “Now we leave,” I said, glancing around at the gawking crowd. “I’ve got more important things to focus on than entertaining a room full of strangers.”

She laughed, and it was the sweetest sound I’d heard in a year. Together, we walked out of the ballroom, leaving behind the noise, the past, and every doubt that had kept us apart.

This time, I wasn’t letting her go.

“We’re not sneaking out the back,” she said.

“You said you were good for the money,” I reminded her with a laugh.

“I am. Mostly.”

“Did you rob a bank?”