Page 15 of A Billionaire's Second Shot

“Thank you, Damon,” I say, keeping my voice steady. “It’s been a lovely evening.”

Damon smirks, clearly entertained by the tension. “Well, congratulations to you both. I’ll leave you to enjoy the rest of theevening.” He lingers just long enough to make it clear he’s still in the game before disappearing into the crowd.

By the timethe evening winds down, I feel like I’ve aged ten years. My cheeks ache from forcing smiles, my feet are sore from heels I should’ve known better than to wear, and my nerves are frayed to the point of snapping.

“Good job tonight,” Levi says as we step into the car waiting for us outside the venue. He loosens his tie, his earlier confidence now tempered with a hint of exhaustion.

“Good job?” I repeat, my voice rising. “I thought we agreed to keep things subtle. That”—I gesture back toward the gala—“was the opposite of subtle.”

Levi sighs, leaning back against the seat. “It was necessary, Tania. The investors needed to see us together, to see that this engagement is real.”

I shake my head, frustration bubbling over. “You don’t get it, do you? I’m not some pawn in your chess game, Levi. I’m a person. And springing something like that on me—it’s not fair.”

He’s silent for a moment, his expression unreadable. “You’re right,” he says finally, his voice quiet. “I should’ve warned you.”

The admission catches me off guard, and for a moment, I don’t know how to respond. Levi Nichols doesn’t apologize—not to anyone. But here he is, looking at me with something close to remorse.

“You don’t get to just apologize and make it okay,” I say, my voice softer now but still firm. “This is my life too, Levi. And if you want me to keep playing this role, you need to start treating me like an equal.”

His gaze holds mine, and for the first time tonight, I see a crack in his carefully constructed armor. “You’re more than equal, Tania,” he says quietly. “You always have been.”

The sincerity in his voice takes me by surprise, and for a brief moment, I let myself believe him. But then I remember the kiss backstage, the announcement, the way he always seems to take control without asking.

I turn away, staring out the window as the car weaves through the city streets. “Just… don’t do that again,” I say, my tone clipped. “No more surprises.”

“Understood,” he replies, his voice steady.

But as the silence stretches between us, I can’t help but wonder if I’m in over my head—because despite everything, part of me can’t seem to let go of the way he looked at me tonight, like I was the only person in the room who mattered.

Chapter Eleven

Levi

The rhythmic hum of the car engine does nothing to calm the storm raging in my mind. Tania sits beside me, staring out the window, her profile illuminated by the glow of passing streetlights. She hasn’t said a word since telling me not to spring surprises on her again, and the silence is suffocating.

I loosen my tie and lean back in my seat, my thoughts drifting to the kiss backstage. It wasn’t supposed to happen—not like that, not then. But the moment we were alone, all the tension between us boiled over, and for once, I let instinct take over.

The feel of her lips on mine, the way she melted into me for just a moment—it’s been replaying in my head ever since. And it’s driving me insane.

“You’re awfully quiet,” I say finally, breaking the silence.

She glances at me, her expression unreadable. “What’s there to say?”

“Anything, really,” I reply, forcing a light tone. “I thought you’d be grilling me about my ‘performance’ tonight.”

Her lips twitch, almost like she wants to smile, but she shakes her head. “No point. You clearly do whatever you want anyway.”

The sting of her words is sharper than I expect, and I have to bite back my retort. She’s not wrong—I’ve been taking the reins on this arrangement, assuming she’d follow along. But after tonight, it’s clear I can’t keep doing that.

“Fair enough,” I say instead, my voice quieter now. “But for what it’s worth, I’m sorry if I put you in an uncomfortable position.”

She blinks, her surprise evident before she quickly schools her features. “Apology accepted,” she says finally, though her tone is cautious. “Just don’t let it happen again.”

I nod, even though I know deep down it’s a promise I might not be able to keep. When it comes to Tania, keeping my distance is proving harder than I thought.

Back at my penthouse,I pour myself a glass of whiskey, hoping it’ll quiet the thoughts swirling in my head. The city skyline stretches out before me, glittering and endless, but tonight, it feels like a hollow backdrop.

I down the drink in one go, the burn doing little to distract me from the memory of Tania’s lips on mine. It wasn’t just the kiss itself—it was the way it felt so familiar, so right, like no time had passed since the last time we were together.

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