Page 62 of Valentine’s Billionaire Auction

I saw the looks of fear. Tim looked resigned to the lecture. Marilyn looked irritated, but she held her tongue.

“I need to apologize,” I said, my voice cutting through the tense silence. “To all of you.”

Marilyn straightened, her expression unreadable. The others froze before exchanging glances with one another. Their reactions were telling. I was such a dick, they couldn’t believe I was apologizing.

“My house guest—Kaira—she’s made me realize some things.” I took a sip of coffee and considered my next words. “I’ve been a shitty employer.”

A couple of the younger staff members exchanged wide-eyed looks, clearly startled by my bluntness.

“I’m sorry,” I continued. “This house hasn’t been a welcoming place to work for a long time, and that’s on me. I want to change that. I want to make it better. Like it used to be.”

Marilyn’s eyes softened. She stepped forward, her hands clasped in front of her. “The bones of this house still have all the memories of your parents and the life they built here, Roman. It was a house full of love and laughter once. It’s about time we all breathed some of that back into it.”

Her words hit me hard. She was right. This house had been a home once. A real home. And somewhere along the way, I’d let it become something cold and impersonal. Marilyn had been with the family for my entire life.

Marta walked into the kitchen with a bright smile, but the moment she saw me, it fell away.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured.

“Stay,” I said. “I was just telling the rest of the staff things are going to change around here.”

“He was just saying he wants this cold mausoleum to be a home again,” Marilyn said with a smile.

Marta grinned. “Really? That’s wonderful. We’ve missed the old days.”

“From now on, I want you all to feel free to use the common areas after your shifts. Read in the library, watch TV in the lounge, make yourselves a meal—this is your home too while you’re here.”

There was a collective exhale throughout the room, as if a pressure valve had been released. Tim’s shoulders dropped slightly from their usual tense position.

“Kaira is a bright, beautiful woman on the inside and outside,” Marilyn said.

I glanced back toward the library, where Kaira was still sleeping. “Having her here—it’s been different. But good. She’s not afraid to stand up for what she thinks is right, even when it scares her. And she speaks her mind.” I shook my head, a small smile tugging at my lips. “I didn’t expect that from her.”

Marilyn smiled knowingly. “She’s something, isn’t she?”

I nodded, sipping my coffee. “Yeah, she is.”

The other women in the kitchen exchanged sly smiles, and I felt the atmosphere shift, becoming lighter.

“She told us she loves to write,” Marta said. “She and her friend had a good time in the ballroom. They thought it was like stepping into a fairytale.”

“I think it might be time we used that ballroom for more than just storing old furniture,” I mused, the idea forming as I spoke. “Maybe we could host some events here—charity galas, art shows. Bring some life back into this place.”

The staff nodded enthusiastically at the idea.

“Your parents used to love throwing parties.” Marta sighed. “I will never forget the first time I was tasked with serving. I dropped a whole tray of appetizers. Your mother was very kind. I had just started working for the family. I expected to be fired. Instead, she helped me clean up, laughing and telling me stories of her own mishaps when she was younger. She made me feel like I belonged here, not just as an employee, but as part of the family.”

I smiled at Marta’s memory and felt a pang of longing for my parents. “I want to bring that feeling back,” I declared. “I don’t just want this house to be a place where you work; I want it to be a place where you feel at home, too.”

“I remember the time I was vacuuming and tripped over the cord,” Marilyn said with a shake of her head. “Your father didn’t even flinch. He just came over, turned off the vacuum, and made sure I was okay before he got it untangled. He always had a way of making the small disasters feel like nothing more than tiny bumps in the road.”

The room filled with gentle laughter as others began sharing their anecdotes as well. It seemed that each memory unearthed another. The staff were part of my life. I realized I had been treating them like furniture or art on the wall instead of the extended family they really were. They were the closest thing to family I had beyond my aunt.

“You know, Valentine’s Day is coming up,” Marilyn said, her tone casual, but I was picking up on a hint. “Maybe you should think about doing something nice for Kaira. It seems like she’s brought joy into your life. You could do something to show her how special she is.”

Her suggestion caught me off guard. And not in a good way. I couldn’t explain why, but something triggered me. I straightened, my usual defenses going back up. “This isn’t real. You know that.”

Marilyn shrugged. “Maybe not. But the media doesn’t know that. And a good fiancé plans something special for his bride-to-be.”