Page 108 of Billionaire Bad Boy Auction

“I don’t know if you can say you’re giving up everything. I mean, you do have a family and business here.”

“I know, but you don’t get it.” I sighed.

“Then let me ask you this—what scares you more? Staying or going?”

My breath hitched. New York had nearly broken me. The long hours, the ruthless competition, the way I’d lost myself in that glittering skyline. Coming home had felt like surrender. Starting over here had been safety.

Dad saw the realization dawn in my eyes. “San Francisco’s shiny and new,” he said gently. “No one knows your past there. You could reinvent yourself.”

“Yes!” The word burst out of me. “That’s exactly⁠—”

“But guess what else goes with you?” He tapped my temple. “You. Same brilliant, stubborn girl who built a business from scratch in less than a month.”

I opened my mouth, then closed it.

“New York wasn’t a failure, sweetheart. It was a reroute.” His eyes crinkled at the corners. “Now here’s another fork in the road. Another opportunity presenting itself because you earned it. Because someone else sees your potential and your value. What do you want to do about it?”

I chewed my lip, the answer hovering just out of reach.

Dad leaned forward, his voice dropping. “Let me pitch it one more way. Imagine Dean could go with you. No limitations. Where would you choose to be?”

I closed my eyes. Five years from now. The life I wanted.

The images came.

Early mornings in my office overlooking Main Street, sunlight streaming through the windows as I pored over listings.

Dean’s laughter rumbling against my back as we drifted on the lake at sunset.

The bakery next door knowing my coffee order by heart.

Clients becoming friends, friends becoming family.

And then I saw San Francisco.

The bustling streets, the towering buildings, the endless opportunities. Dean beside me, walking through the city, his motorcycle parked outside some trendy café. Living in an old townhouse with a view of the bridge.

The trolleys.

Museums.

The anguish faded.

When I opened my eyes, Dad was smiling.

“Well?”

I reached for my phone with shaking hands. “I think I need to make a call.”