The Broken One (Corisi Billionaires, #1)(42)

“But you’re okay if I am?” Mauricio challenged.

“Stop, Mauricio,” Christof said firmly. “That’s not what he’s saying.”

I turned and slammed a hand on the wall behind me. “Dad had one store, and he was happy. We dominate in the region, have more money than we could spend in our lifetimes, and I’m fucking miserable.”

Mauricio looked from me to Christof and back. “I’m pretty happy with how things are going, but I hear you. You haven’t taken a vacation in years. It’s time.”

Christof put a hand on my shoulder. “Mauricio’s right, Sebastian. You’ve made the Romano name your first priority for too long. That’s all this is—burnout. You may feel like our welfare falls on your shoulders alone, but we’re all in this together.”

I laid my hand on his. “You both covered for me when I couldn’t . . . when . . . when I . . .”

“You would have done the same for us. This is different. This is you wanting to find something that brings joy back into your life. It’s a good sign—and well past time.” He nodded and dropped his hand.

“Into your life . . . into your bed . . . whatever.” Mauricio winked. “Remember, I’m always here with advice if you need it.”

“Don’t joke about her that way.” I tensed. “Besides, I told you—this isn’t about Heather. I haven’t even spoken to her since our lunch.”

“A week ago?” Mauricio shuddered. “You’re playing it too cool—like cold, even.”

Cold. I ran my hand through my hair. I’d had every intention of calling her. Even though she’d said she couldn’t see me over the weekend that had just passed, I had put some serious thought into how to woo a yes out of her.

Flowers.

Cards.

Phone calls that lasted into the night.

I’d changed my mind, though, after I’d met with Rakesh. He’d laid out his situation and his torment for me, humbling himself for the sake of his family, and it had left me cold at first.

Cold—that was what I had become.

His anger hadn’t surprised me. Everyone is angry when they discover they can’t stop us from taking over. Every ugly thing he said to me had been said a hundred times before.

At the end of our conversation, he’d looked like a man who had sacrificed himself for what he considered the greater good—and still lost. Angry. Confused. Desperate.

Disgusted.

For a moment I saw myself through his eyes, and I didn’t like the view. What kind of man could listen to a story like the one he’d told and be completely unmoved by it?

And what business did such a man have courting a woman like Heather? What did I think she was going to do—wave a wand and transform me into the person I’d once been?

He was dead and gone.

In his place was a man who enjoyed nothing, cared about no one beyond his immediate family, and destroyed the lives of others without remorse.

Was this shell of a man really what Heather and her child needed?

There was a good chance that rather than her buoying me up, I might drag her down. What if, while I was testing if I could feel anything for her, she fell for me?

And I felt no more sympathy for her than I’d felt for Rakesh.

It was an unacceptable possibility.

One that had kept me awake several nights in a row. She deserved better than that.

The financial empire I’d built for my family felt like the only thing I’d done right. And now I was jeopardizing that because . . . why? Did I think pulling out of one deal would redefine who I was?

I’d been partially honest with my brothers about why I didn’t want to move forward with the Bhatt Market takeover. They believed it meant I didn’t want to feel guilty, but the truth was I was more afraid of feeling nothing.

And of what that would say about me.

None of this was anything I could share with my brothers without causing them to worry about me. So I said, “I am tired. A vacation sounds like exactly what I need.” A glance at the clock said this topic had dragged on long enough. “On that note, I’m going to answer some emails and plan my escape.”

After reassuring me that they were capable of moving forward without me, we headed toward the door. Behind me, Christof said, “Cough up another twenty, Mauricio. He admitted to nothing.”

“Fine,” Mauricio said, “but a hundred bucks says he marries her.”

I walked away as if I hadn’t heard them.

My only hope was that Mauricio’s business instincts were better than his choice of bets. There was no reason for me to see Heather again.





CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO



* * *



HEATHER

I was soaking up some sun on a bench in our neighborhood’s playground, watching Ava go down the slide for the hundredth or so time. Her face lit up when Charlotte and her brothers bounded onto the sandy area.

Erica sat down beside me. “So did you hear from him?”

I sighed. “Could you stop asking that every time you see me? If he called me, you’d be the first one I’d tell.”

“Sorry. After the way you described your date, I thought for sure he was interested.”

“Me too. Maybe I was too aggressive. I mean, I sent him sex dice and told him I was going commando on our date.”