Love was a pale facsimile of money. Love begged.
Money demanded.
So when Darius had seen how badly New York society had treated Letty for all these years—these people who didn’t have a fraction of her kindness or her loyalty or her heart—ice had seized his soul.
Especially when he’d realized that he’d treated her even worse. After a decade of ignoring her, he’d taken revenge for her so-called sins through cold seduction, insults and threats.
His jaw tightened. He would pay that debt.
Darius didn’t love her. The part of his heart that had once craved love had been burned away. Love wasn’t something he ever wanted to feel for anyone.
But there were other qualities Darius did believe in.
Honor.
Loyalty.
Protecting his woman.
So he’d settled the matter, once and for all.
Now Letty would be the most popular girl in the city. Every person who’d once treated her shabbily would be begging for an invitation to their wedding. Begging to be her friend.
At the moment of Darius’s triumph, as he toasted her on stage, he turned to face Letty at the podium. Rough, raw desire surged through his body as he looked at her—his woman now, his—lush and pregnant and obscenely beautiful in that pink gown, which slid over her breasts and belly like a caress.
She stood unsteadily in those ridiculous stiletto heels, beneath the blinding spotlight, as a thousand people applauded from the darkness. People who had treated her like garbage just minutes before started chanting her name. Camera flashes lit up the darkness as reporters shouted questions.
“Miss Spencer, what’s it like to be loved to the tune of five billion dollars?”
“When’s the wedding?”
“When’s your baby due?”
“How does it feel to suddenly be the most popular girl in New York?”
Letty looked at Darius with the expression of a terrified deer, and he realized she wasn’t enjoying this as much as he was.
Turning back to the microphone with a smile, Darius answered for her. “The wedding will be soon. No plans yet. Our baby will be born soon, too.” He looked past the reporters to the well-heeled crowd. “That’s all. Thank you for your support! Enjoy your night. And since you’re now all so much richer, don’t forget to be generous to the scholarship fund—it’s for the kids.” Setting his empty champagne glass on the podium, he glanced at the full orchestra. “Let’s start the music!”
“Kick off the dancing, Darius!” someone shouted from the back.
“Yes, the first dance to you and Letty!” someone else cried.
Darius led her down the steps from the stage, and as they reached the dance floor, the music started, a slow, romantic song he’d purposefully requested from the orchestra earlier because he knew Letty would remember it from that long-ago summer.
He was right. She stopped when she heard it, eyes wide.
Darius looked down at her with a crooked half smile. “What do you say? Will you dance with me, Letty?”
She looked around at all the people who had treated her with such contempt for the last ten years, now beaming at her as if they were best friends.
“Why are they acting as if they like me?” she said softly, for his ears alone.
“People love to talk about character and loyalty and love. They mean money.” He allowed himself a grim smile. “Now the money’s been paid, so they can love you again.”
Letty’s head snapped back to look at him. Her big hazel eyes, fringed with dark lashes, were wide, as if he were a superhero who’d flown down from the sky. “Why did you do it, Darius? Why pay five billion dollars for a debt that isn’t yours?”
The music swirled around them like a whirlwind. “Do you remember our old waltz?”