Terms and Conditions (Dreamland Billionaires, #2)(51)

I take another long sip of my drink. “Wife and girlfriend.”

He flicks my wedding rings. “This Alatorre crush is spiraling.”

“The man has his own charity. One that gives kids free prosthetics, for crying out loud. He is practically begging for the world to fall in love with him.”

“I’m aware.”

“You are?”

He shrugs. “I sponsor a few kids.”

I shoot him a look. “Donating to charity as a tax write-off doesn’t count as a sponsor.”

The tic in his jaw makes an appearance. “Good thing I don’t include it in the paperwork then. Wouldn’t want my donation to be null and void.” The bitterness in his voice makes me flinch.

Wait. Is he actually a willing sponsor? How is that possible? Declan has grumbled about every charity event we’ve attended over the years, and it took all my power to convince him to go every single time.

His hardened gaze switches from me to the stars above. A vein appears above his eye, and I’m hit with a wave of guilt so hard, breathing becomes difficult.

Shit. Here you are making assumptions about him when he is only trying to talk. I want to slap myself and go back in time if only to replace that look on his face.

“It was shitty of me to assume you were only doing it for a personal benefit.”

He sighs, not breaking contact with the sky. “I don’t give you a reason to think otherwise. It’s not like I’m out here winning any Noble Peace Prizes.”

That he is not. He sure didn’t earn his reputation as a heartless businessman for nothing. People think the CEO has all the power, but the man behind the spreadsheets calls the shots. Because if it doesn’t make the Kanes any money, then it doesn’t serve a purpose, which means it’s cut from the program.

Welcome to the Kane Company where employee wages are as dismal as company morale.

But still, my whole chest aches for him because obviously I have a thing for misunderstood billionaires. “It was stupid of me to say. I’m sorry.”

“You know how I feel about apologies.”

“Unless they’re blood sacrifices made in your honor, don’t bother.”

The corners of his lips lift. Got him. My smile widens, which only makes his disappear before it had a chance to form into something devastating.

“What made you want to become a sponsor?” My question is innocent.

An olive branch of sorts. It might be a selfish question, but I don’t want to stop the conversation. This is a side of Declan I know nothing about, and I won’t forgive myself if he closes back up again because of my stupid assumption.

His gaze slowly makes its way back to me. “I thought Santiago’s comeback story was admirable.”

I smile, grateful he offered more information. “See! Even you can’t resist him! Face it. That man can wrap anyone around his finger, including you.”

The corners of his lips rise. “He might have been the reason I donated in the first place, but I continued because of the kids.”

“Kids?”

He pulls out his phone and taps the screen a few times. “Here.”

I grab onto his phone like a national treasure. The first photo makes my jaw drop. It’s one of a red-headed child flipping off the person taking the photo with one metal finger. “Cute.”

“That’s Freddy.”

He knows them by name. My heart threatens to burst inside of my chest.

“May I?” I want to keep swiping through his photos and learn more about the man who hides himself away from the world.

I want to know everything.

He nods. I swipe through a set of photos featuring three other kids. Each of them have different prosthetics, with one child requiring four.

I recognize the location of one photo instantly.

“You all went to Dreamland?”

“They did.”

Huh. “Where were you?”

“Working.”

“You didn’t want to go?”

“Does it matter?”

Yes! I want to yell, but my throat dries up and I lose all capacity to speak.

The tightness in my chest intensifies, having everything to do with how he sent the kids to Dreamland together without him despite him wanting to be there.

I don’t know why it makes me sad but it does. Maybe it’s because Declan has his eyes set on a position he thinks will be the answer to everything, all while missing out on what life has to offer. And frankly, that’s no way to live.

For someone hell-bent on succeeding at everything, he truly fails at life. I want to help him realize that there is so much more to everything than merely existing. That if he spends any more years skipping out on what is truly important, he might regret it later. No. He will regret it. I can guarantee it because there will always be some new goal he thinks will fill that gaping hole in his chest. All of them will fall short. It’s a vicious cycle driven by one sad fact: he is looking for happiness in all the wrong places.

I spot all the signs I’ve become personally familiar with.

Then what are you going to do about it?





20





IRIS


H eavy rain splatters against the deck, obscuring our view of the bush.

Dark gray clouds block out any sunlight. My faith about going out on today’s safari dwindles with each drop of water splashing against the ground.