Page 86 of The Billionaire Invitation

Before she left, Jaylyn surprised her with a hug. Honesty embraced her, touched by the sweetness of the gesture.

Jaylyn held Honesty at arm’s length. “We’re friends. No matter what happens. Promise?”

Honesty nodded. It was an easy promise to make.

Dante tossed his keys on the foyer table. Compared to the penthouse at the Crane, his home was less lush. More sparse. The decorator he’d hired had stuck with neutrals. He was surrounded by clean lines, dark woods, and iron sculptures he didn’t know if he liked or not.

He frowned at a particular piece in the corner. It was a lone arced shape on a pedestal. Stark and meaningless. Or maybe that was just him.

He’d lived in this house for the better part of two years and had never, until now, felt like a stranger here.

Odd.

What his mother and his brother had said flitted through his head again. Maybe he wasn’t the same man who left LA for Chicago. He sure as fuck didn’t feel the same. He hadn’t been an uncle when he left. Now he was. He had also given a best-man speech, stood up to his father instead of keeping his thoughts to himself, and he had fallen in love with his ex-girlfriend. None of which had been on the agenda when he’d⁠—

Wait. Back up.

Back. The fuck. Up.

He was frozen, one foot on the stairs, one hand on the banister.

“I didn’t fall in love,” he murmured to himself, but his heart thudded out a steady chant in his head. One that sounded a lot like Bull-shit! Bull-shit!

He slowly lowered to sit on the third step. He searched the shadowed room in front of him for any signs of himself. Spacious and stark, the room echoed when he cleared his throat. Everything from the soulless décor and meaningless art pieces screamed that he was in the wrong house.

In the wrong state.

The truth caught up with him all at once. He used to be a man with questionable direction in his professional life, but he’d known what he’d wanted in his personal life. He’d loved Honesty years ago. He’d planned on her being his future. Not a part of it—she had been it.

He’d loved her then. And he loved her now.

He hadn’t stopped loving her for eight years. He’d tucked that love away like a memory he’d hoped to forget. He’d hidden it from himself so well, that when faced with her again, he couldn’t call it up.

He had prioritized his mother, his grandfather, the foundation. He had put everything ahead of the one woman who mattered most to him.

Honesty Benitez.

That she’d given him a second chance was a miracle. He’d been so wrapped up in pleasing her, in being of service, that he’d missed the whole goddamn point. He hadn’t given her the one thing she’d wanted—the one thing that would have made the biggest difference.

His heart.

In his defense, it was hard to see the forest for the trees with his head up his own ass.

“Fuck.” He hated hindsight.

He’d spent years supporting everyone else, but when it came to him and Honesty, he dropped the ball. It was like there was too much good for him to accept. Instead, he’d denied it was ever there to begin with.

Worse, Honesty had been trying to tell him, but he hadn’t given her a safe space to share her feelings. He’d hidden behind duty.

God. He hated that his father had made such a valid point.

He had thought it was too late for him and Honesty. But was it? Was a late realization better than none at all? He’d never know unless he tried. But he’d have to prove to her that this was real—that she mattered most. And that required a drastic move.

He had to show her that she was more important than any reason he’d left for LA. Twice. Which left one obvious option.

He took his phone out of his pocket and pressed a button. Jennifer picked up on the second ring. “Are you back?”

“I am. I have news.” She didn’t interrupt. “I’m stepping down as head of the foundation immediately. I need you to look for someone else. Someone invested in growth.”