Page 4 of Big Billionaire

Her gaze locks on mine, the green depths shimmering with embarrassment and something else…a sadness so raw it catches me off guard, punching straight through the armor I’ve worn for years.

And beneath it…trust.

Pure. Unquestioning.

It does something to me. Something I don’t want to name.

She slips her small hand into mine, warm and trembling. My fingers close around hers, swallowing her hand whole. I pull her gently to her feet, then turn toward the crowd, my voice cutting through the silence like a blade.

“Tonight’s event is over.”

A ripple of gasps, scattered murmurs. I don’t wait for them to settle.

“And if you think I won’t find out who thought it was acceptable to shout obscenities at one of my dancers, you’re wrong. Blackwell Academy does not tolerate behavior like that. You will be found. And you will be gone.”

My gaze sweeps over the audience, daring them to test me. No one does.

I keep my grip on Lena’s hand as I lead her offstage. My stride is long, purposeful, and she matches me in silence, her steps quick to keep up.

We exit the theater, and the moment we step into an empty backstage hallway, she wobbles. My instinct kicks in and I catch her before she falls, wrapping my arms tightly around her slender frame. She folds into me without hesitation, her cheek pressing into my chest.

It takes a second to realize she’s crying. Silent tears, her shoulders trembling against me.

It’s not her tears that make my blood boil…it’s the reason for them. I make another silent promise to crush the bastard who ruined the night for her. But more than anything, I’m pissed at myself. She’s falling apart in my arms and I don’t know what the hell to say to her.

I’m not used to this kind of situation. I don’t do soft.

Logan’s mother was harsh, sharp, and too focused on business, like me. At the time, I thought that made us a good match, but after she left me I realized it just meant that we had no one to round us out. No one to encourage softness or any kind of true feeling.

But Lena, she’s gentleness and peace and beauty, in a way I’ve never seen in anyone else. Everything about her…what she makes me feel, what she pulls from me…it’s foreign territory.

Before I can put words together, she pulls back, wiping her face quickly, her cheeks flushed with heat. She mumbles something, part apology, part thank-you, before turning around and taking to her heels.

I watch her march rapidly down the hall, her small frame rapidly swallowed by the shadows. My hand is still warm where I held hers. And all I can think is,I can’t let her get away from me. Again.

My jaw tightens. I pull my phone from my pocket and hit a number. It takes only a beat before the Academy’s director answers, his voice careful, deferential.

“Mr. Blackwell?”

“I want the name of the bastard who shouted at the show tonight,” I say, my tone icy. “And when you find him, I want him gone. Expelled. Permanently.”

There’s a pause, followed by a nervous cough. “Sir, with respect…the young man in question is the son of Senator Vale. His family—”

“I don’t give a damn if he’s the son of the President himself,” I snap, cutting him off. “No one humiliates a dancer in my Academy and gets away it.” Especially not my firefly. My voice drops lower, lethal. “If you can’t handle it, I’ll handle it myself, and you won’t like the way I do.”

Silence. “Y-yes, sir,” he stammers, clearing his throat. “It’ll be taken care of immediately.”

“Good,” I growl, ending the call without another word.

I slide the phone back into my pocket and head in the direction Lena fled.

Chapter Three

Lena

Tears blur my vision. My legs burn and my chest feels like it’s bursting, but I keep running, pushing through the backstage corridors. I don’t care where I’m going. I just need to get away from the suffocating silence after Damien’s words, from the humiliation of falling, from the heat of his gaze that still lingers on my skin. Everything.

By the time I slam into the locker room, my breath is ragged, my hands shaking. I crumple against the wall, sliding down until I’m sitting on the cold tile floor.