The Irresistible Billionaire

Chapter 26

"You're so quiet," Stefano noticed, glancing at me as we got stuck in traffic. "Is there a problem?"

I shook my head and ditched the long-ass face I had. "I'm fine. Probably just tired, that's all," I replied, stretching a smile across my face.

I’ve got no idea why I’m acting this way. I mean, it was just Johnny being his unpredictable, dramatic-ass self—so why the hell am I feeling guilty?

First of all, he didn’t feel guilty letting random women into his office today. If he’s mad about "something" between us, he better just say it straight to my face. I’m not great at picking up hints.

The problem is, Johnny likes playing Scrabble with me. The game probably ended—he already won, and I still haven’t made a move.

He hates clingy women, yet he's clingy as hell. Worse than most girls, honestly.

He’s got his own darn vocabulary and loves being chased. Well, guess what? He’s fast and I’m not exactly sprinting-ready in heels.

"I'm sorry I dragged you with me," Stefano said, and I immediately waved a hand in the air.

"What? No, no. It was my call to come with you. Besides, I needed to get out of work and home. My life’s been boring as hell ever since. You actually saved me."

"We’re not that different from each other. Even my own family says I put them to sleep whenever we hang out," he shared, eyes focused on the road, tapping his thumb to the rhythm of some soft '80s song playing on the radio.

"Do you usually bring your work home?" I asked, tearing open the bag of chips we bought at the pharmacy.

He chuckled, clearly guilty.

Does that mean he hasn’t been getting laid? Is that why he’s targeting me? Is that even the right way to phrase it? He’s kind, sure—but men will always be men, right?

That reminds me—if he’s "really" interested in me, maybe I should start getting to know him better.

"I don’t mean to pry, but I remember you mentioned... you had a girl? Were you married before?" I asked, totally pretending I wasn’t sticking my nose into his business.

"Ah, yes, that’s right. I was," he answered without hesitation. "We were college sweethearts. But, uh... if a project has a deadline, some relationships do too. The feeling expired, and... she found someone else."

"Why would she do that?" I asked, not seeing anything wrong with him.

"Change of heart?" He shrugged.

"That’s cruel. I mean, you're not just handsome and physically attractive from every angle, but you're also friendly, sweet, kind. What else could she have been looking for?"

"Quality time?" he replied, and I got it instantly.

"Oh..." I muttered, spacing out for a second before stuffing chips into my mouth until my cheeks puffed like a chipmunk.

"When I first graduated, I got greedy with work—taking every project I could. I was excited to build a future for us. We planned everything. All we needed was money. So, I worked and worked. We got married... but work always got in the way, so..."

There wasn’t longing on his face, but I knew the emotions still played somewhere in his heart.

"But that’s in the past. It’s been four years since we divorced."

"Do you ever think maybe you both could... you know—" I pressed my index fingers together.

Stefano chuckled and shook his head. "She’s happily married now. They’ve got three kids. We’re friends and we’re happy for each other. I’m genuinely glad she found someone who could give her what I couldn’t."

"Wow..." I said. It was supposed to sound cheerful, but it came out flat. Why am I so bad at this?

"What about you? Ever been in a relationship before?"

I gave him a look and pointed at my face. "Do you really think someone would ask 'this' out on a date? People probably assume I’ll grow old alone with a thousand cats to groom."

"Why do you do that?"

"Do what?" I brushed crumbs off my lap.

"Put yourself down," he replied, glancing at me with a frown. "I like you. I literally just asked you out."

I nearly choked. Does this man know how to "ease" into things?

"It’s probably ‘cause you have poor eyesight. Or maybe your standards just dropped after your divorce," I teased, making him laugh—a deep, wholehearted one.

"I told you—I like you because you're you. No other explanation needed."

"Liar," I hummed, slouching into my seat.

Then my past came strolling through my brain like it owned the place. Why can't it just stay where it belongs?

"I used to get bullied when I was younger," I admitted, wrinkling my nose. "I promised myself that when I grew up, I’d reinvent myself... but I got stuck. I couldn’t let go of who I was."

"You don’t have to change."

"Yeah, but... I 'want' to," I said honestly. "I hate the way I dress. I hate that I’m still a loser. I hate that I don’t fit in. Sometimes I think maybe those bullies were right—maybe I’ll never be pretty."

There were a few seconds of silence before the car came to a halt.

When I looked at him, his eyes were soft.

"No, Cassidy. You’ve 'always' been beautiful—inside and out. You just don’t know how to embrace it," he said, smiling at me.

He took his glasses off and shoved his hair back. The move was so hot I actually frowned—my brain swore it felt like déjà vu. Like I’d seen that exact moment before.

"Look, I’m glad you’re opening up to me. I appreciate you letting me peek into your world. So, uh... I want to show you a bit of mine. I want you to know me better," he said, taking my hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. "And if you don’t like what you see, I swear I’ll accept it. No hard feelings."

Oh my kitty, why does he have to be so darn sweet?

"Just in case—would you still drive me home if I end up not liking what I see? Like, what if you’re a secret gangster? Or a high-profile criminal? Or a spy? No one would know!"

He laughed and dipped his head, ears turning red. "Funny. But no—none of those. And yeah, even if you hated my guts, I’d still drive you back to Manhattan."

"Good, because I’m broke," I said, licking crumbs off my thumb and fingers. "So, tell me, Mr. Architect, what’s the mystery you’ve got going on?"

He turned the engine off and unbuckled his seatbelt—I mirrored him.

"Why don’t we head inside and you can find out for yourself?"

I followed his gaze and turned to see a cute, wide one-story house with a beautiful garden out front.

"It was my grandparents’ house. My sister and I used to spend summers here. Now she owns it," he explained, hopping out and jogging around to open my door.

"Thank you," I mumbled, still clutching my bag and half-eaten chips.

"Let’s go," he said, leading the way through the gate.

Stefano called out for his sister as we stepped inside.

The second I walked in, it felt like a warm hug. Cozy, like fresh-baked cookies and a couch that begs for naps. Soft cream walls, mismatched family photos, a worn-out sofa with a blanket that’s seen it all.

"Wow," I mouthed, feeling like I want to move in.

"Gabby!" he called, probably toward the kitchen.

While I waited, I yelped when I felt a tiny hand "spank" my butt—followed by a giggle.

I turned and saw a little boy grinning up at me, missing both front teeth.

"Sup, baby? You free tonight?" he lisped, flashing a smolder and blowing me a kiss.

What in the world—where did this boy learn to flirt like that?!

"Theodore," Stefano said firmly, crouching down.

"Daddy!" the boy squealed and ran into his arms.

Daddy?

I stared at Stefano. He’s got a kid?

Okay?

I mean, I knew he was boyfriend material—had a wife, gave father figure vibes—but I didn’t think he was already a... Daddy.

"Hey, buddy!" Stefano picked him up and smothered him with kisses. "How are you? Where’s Auntie Gabby?"

"Batement," the boy lisp confidently.

"Go fetch Auntie Gabby and tell her Daddy and a friend are here," Stefano whispered.

Theodore looked at me. "Who's that friend pretty lady?"

"Get Auntie first, and then I’ll introduce you. Deal?"

The kid ran off, his tiny feet stomping to the basement.

Stefano looked at me, clearly nervous.

"My son. He’s six," he said, swallowing hard. "Disappointed?"

Johnny has a harem. Stefano has a kid. Is there any man in this city who just owns plants?