Page 27 of Valentine’s Billionaire Auction

“I can’t believe I did this,” I whispered. “It was finally happening, Carla. I felt like… like I found something real. And now it’s gone.”

She pulled me into a hug, stroking my back. “Listen to me. You wrote it once, and you’ll write it again. You’ve got this. Okay?”

I nodded, but the sting of losing something I’d poured my heart into was unbearable.

For the first time in a long time, I’d let myself dream. Now I had to figure out if I could find the courage to start over.

The story was gone. There was no way I could write it the way I did the first time.

10

ROMAN

The end of the week came fast, but not fast enough for my liking. The stupid video of me scolding the so-called reporter had blown up even more.

Of course.

People were posting pictures of my shoes, suits, my car, everything. They were splashing my private life all over the internet, picking apart every detail as if I were a character in a movie rather than a real person with real feelings.

I saw one video with dollar signs on everything I was wearing along with my Starbucks cup of coffee. It was supposed to be shaming me for being wealthy. I didn’t know why it mattered. Yes, I was rich. Big fucking deal. I liked nice things. I could afford it.

And Starbucks wasn’t even fancy.

I knew they were trying to prove a point. I didn’t need to get pissed the asshole stepped on my two-thousand-dollar shoes because I could buy more.

I sank into the leather chair in my office. I had another board meeting shortly. I wasn’t looking forward to what they had to say. I didn’t feel like I owed them an explanation about my personal life, but they sure as hell expected one. It wasn’t any of their damn business.

But that wasn’t going to stop them from giving me their two cents. With the way the ridiculous story blew up the last few days, I had a feeling they were going to have lots of opinions.

There was a knock on my door. I didn’t say anything.

The door opened. “Mr. Kelly?”

I sighed and looked toward the door. “Yes?”

My new temporary assistant was standing there. She started yesterday and I already knew she wasn’t going to last longer than a week.

She hesitated, fiddling with the edge of a file folder she held tightly against her chest. “The board members are starting to gather in the conference room. They’ve asked if you could join them a bit earlier today.”

“Did they bring doughnuts or something?”

Her eyes widened and she shook her head. “I don’t know, sir. I can ask.”

“No, that’s alright.” I leaned back in my chair and pinched the bridge of my nose. “Tell them I’ll be there in five minutes.”

“Sure thing, Mr. Kelly.” She nodded quickly and almost stumbled as she hurried out, closing the door quietly behind her.

It wasn’t that she was a bad assistant, but she was too timid. I knew it was only a matter of time before she declared I was impossible to work for. I would inevitably hurt her feelings with my gruff demeanor. It was the same thing every time.

By the time I walked into the boardroom, I was already irritated. I probably woke up that way if I was being honest. The sun blazed in through the massive windows, reflecting off the polished table where the board sat waiting, their stiff expressions a reminder of how much they loved playing the role of moral compass for Roman Kelly, the man they swore up and down was too much of an asshole for his own good.

“Let’s get this over with,” I said, taking my seat at the head of the table. The air felt too formal, too expectant. It made my skin crawl. My eyes drifted to the windows. I wanted to be out there, away from everyone’s opinions.

Charles, one of the senior members of the board and a guy who rarely spoke unless he had something important to say, leaned forward. “We’ve put together a few strategies for addressing your public image concerns.”

I gave him a flat look. “My public image concerns aren’t my top priority, Charles. The financials for three of our newer ventures are. But sure, let’s hear how you think I can stop the media from painting me as a villain. Maybe you are all in the wrong line of work. You should be working for a PR company. There are plenty of celebrities that could benefit from your expertise.”

Charles was unfazed by my sarcasm, arranging his glasses on the bridge of his nose and referring to his notes. “Well, Roman, whether you prioritize it or not, your image directly impacts our company’s reputation and, by extension, its financial health. It’s all interconnected.”