A Billionaire's Love

Chapter 13

Jared stood rigid, fists clenched at his sides, glaring at Dylan. The walls of Dylan's office were adorned with accolades and framed covers of past issues—reminders of the success they had both built from the ground up. The company had grown exponentially under Dylan’s leadership, but now, it felt like everything they had worked for was in jeopardy.

Dylan, sitting behind his massive oak desk, his usually composed demeanor shattered, had just delivered news that Jared found impossible to accept.

“Really, Dylan? After everything we’ve done. After everything we’ve been through!?” Jared’s voice trembled with anger as he spoke. “We planned this all along, Dylan. We spent time and effort, we spent our resources just to make sure this project wouldn’t fail, and now, all of a sudden, you’re going to abort it? What’s wrong with you?”

Jared’s frustration was palpable. This project was more than just another publication—it was the culmination of months of work, meetings, and negotiations. The Hotel de Montemayor, a historic hotel whose restoration was a landmark in the industry, was meant to be the feature story of their upcoming issue. It wasn’t just a business decision. It was personal.

Dylan, leaning back in his chair, sighed deeply but didn’t respond immediately. His piercing blue eyes stared blankly at the glass window behind Jared. From the top floor, the city’s skyline loomed large, but in Dylan’s mind, nothing seemed as significant as the conflict brewing within him.

Jared’s patience was wearing thin. His anger flared as he leaned forward on the desk, his voice rising. “It was your fiancée’s dream, Dylan! What would she think if you abort this!?”

The name—Kaye—hit Dylan like a punch to the gut. His breath caught in his throat. His mind, which had been trying so hard to remain composed, unraveled in an instant, and memories flooded back.

The accident.

Kaye, lying motionless in the hospital.

Dylan’s hands curled into tight fists under the desk. He stood abruptly, his chair scraping the floor with a loud screech as he rose to his feet. His gaze locked onto Jared’s with an intensity that froze the other man in place.

“What do you know about my fiancée, Jared!?” Dylan’s voice was low, but it seethed with a raw, dangerous edge. “What do you know about us? You know nothing, and I owe you nothing. Not even a single explanation!”

Jared blinked, stunned by the sudden venom in Dylan’s words. This wasn’t the calm, measured leader he’d worked with for years. This was someone else—someone haunted, someone wounded.

But Jared wasn’t backing down. Not now. Not when everything was on the line. “No… Dylan. No,” Jared shook his head, his tone softening, though his frustration remained. “I need an acceptable reason, Dylan! We need an acceptable reason. This isn’t you. You built this company with your wisdom and expertise. This isn’t you.”

Dylan took a step closer, his eyes dark and filled with something Jared couldn’t quite place—fear? Anger? Desperation?

“You know nothing about me, Jared,” Dylan hissed, his voice barely above a whisper. He walked around the desk, closing the distance between them. His eyes, once filled with cold indifference, were now locked onto Jared, unwavering, calculating. “Speaking of which… I built this company. I built this place, and I have all the reason and power to do whatever I want.”

He stopped a foot away from Jared, the tension between them thick enough to cut with a knife.

“I don’t need to explain anything, Jared. Not to you. Not to anyone.”

The silence that followed felt heavy, suffocating. Jared could hear his own heartbeat pounding in his ears as he struggled to comprehend what had just happened. Dylan’s transformation—the way his demeanor had shifted, the coldness in his voice—was unnerving. The man standing before him wasn’t the friend he’d come to trust over the years. This was someone else entirely.

Jared, taking a step back, swallowed hard. He wanted to shout, to demand answers, but something in Dylan’s eyes stopped him. There was a darkness there, something that hinted at a deeper pain, a deeper truth that Dylan wasn’t willing to share.

But Jared couldn’t walk away. Not like this.

“Dylan, this isn’t about just you,” Jared finally said, his voice quieter now but filled with urgency. “This is about all of us—everyone who’s worked on this project, everyone who’s invested their time and energy into making it happen. You can’t just pull the plug without giving us a reason. We deserve that much.”

Dylan clenched his jaw, his eyes flickering with a storm of emotions he was trying desperately to keep in check. He wanted to yell, to push Jared out of his office, to make him leave and never come back. But instead, he turned away, walking toward the large window that overlooked the city.

For a long moment, he stood there, staring out at the skyline, his back to Jared. The weight of the decision pressed heavily on his shoulders. Memories of Kaye haunted him, of her laughter, her dreams, her passion for life. She had loved the idea of the Hotel de Montemayor project. It had been her dream to see the hotel restored to its former glory and featured in the magazine. But now… everything was different.

Dylan closed his eyes, a wave of guilt washing over him. The accident. Kaye in that hospital bed, motionless, her future uncertain. And then there was Aki—the woman who had caused it all, the woman Dylan had made sure was paying for what she had done. The guilt twisted inside him like a knife.

“You don’t understand, Jared,” Dylan finally said, his voice low and distant. “You don’t know what’s really going on.”

“Then tell me,” Jared pleaded, his frustration giving way to a mix of confusion and concern. “Help me understand. We can’t just… drop this, Dylan. Not without a reason.”

Dylan remained silent for a moment longer, still facing the window. When he finally spoke, his voice was strained, as though he was struggling with the words.

“No... no... no... Jared. You don’t need to know anything,” Dylan said, his tone eerily calm, though there was an undeniable edge to it. His voice held a darkness, like a warning whispered in the dead of night. He had always been good at masking his true feelings, but there was something different this time, something unsettling.

Jared, standing a few feet behind him, furrowed his brow, sensing the shift in Dylan’s demeanor. “But—” Jared began, but Dylan cut him off, his voice firm, absolute.

“My decision is final. I will abort the publication of the Hotel de Montemayor to the mass media. I will breach the contract and disappoint the investors. Tell them to do whatever they want. They can file a legal case, or whatever it is. They can't change my mind.” Dylan spoke with conviction, making sure his words landed like stone. There was no room for negotiation, no space for second-guessing. He wanted Jared to understand, once and for all, who held the reins.

Jared swallowed, his throat dry. He had worked alongside Dylan long enough to recognize when something was wrong, when there was more to the story than what was being said. He could sense the weight behind Dylan’s words, the unspoken reasons hovering just out of reach. But Dylan wasn’t going to let him in. Not today. Maybe not ever.

“Are you sure about this?” Jared asked, a final attempt to break through. His voice sounded smaller than he intended, almost drowned by the vastness of the room.

Dylan didn’t turn to face him. His gaze remained locked on the skyline, as if the world beyond the glass could somehow offer the answers he sought. The silence hung between them, thick and suffocating, before Dylan finally spoke again, his voice lower this time, more measured.

“Tell them whatever you need to, Jared. But my mind is made up.” He paused, then added with a hint of finality, “And don’t ask me again.”

Jared stood there for a moment, a mixture of frustration and concern brewing in his chest. He wanted to press, to demand answers, but he knew better. Dylan had drawn the line, and crossing it would only lead to a dead end. Shaking his head, Jared turned away, defeated.

“Alright,” Jared said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. He moved toward the door, each step heavier than the last. As he opened it, he glanced back one final time, hoping to catch some flicker of explanation in Dylan’s expression. But there was nothing. Just the same cold, calculating mask.

As the door clicked shut behind him, Dylan remained motionless, staring out at the skyline.

Whatever he was hiding, it wasn’t just about the hotel or the investors. There was something much deeper, something that made him willing to risk everything. But for now, only Dylan knew the truth, and he had no intention of sharing it with anyone—not even Jared.