1Love Redesigned (Lakefront Billionaires, #1)(16)

He glowers. “Only if you don’t repeat this story to anyone. Especially Rafa.”

“Cross my heart.” I draw an invisible X over the spot.

“Tell anyone and I’ll share that boxed wine video I have of you.”

My eyes widen. “You kept it?”

“Blackmail has no expiration date.”

The idea of him keeping funny videos of us from our time at Stanford shouldn’t make me feel all warm and fuzzy, especially when it’s Julian, yet my stomach does this betraying flip at the notion.

I keep my voice detached as I say, “Never fear. Your moment of incompetence is safe with me.”

He leaves in a huff with the extension cord and a promise to be back in a minute.

Without Julian here to distract me, I’m left to grapple with my messy emotions. I rub at the faint white line on my ring finger like one would a stain, wishing it would disappear along with the pain about my relationship.

Former relationship.

In order for me to move on, I need to start letting go of the past and anything that reminds me of my broken engagement, starting with the ring.

It’s everything I wanted and more, I lied as I held up my shaky hand for the camera crew hired by the Creswells to film our publicized engagement.

A lot of women would be appreciative of a ring like that, Oliver said when he caught me not wearing the eyesore once after working out.

“Having second thoughts?” Julian’s deep voice has me turning around.

“Are you sure an ability to mindread wasn’t added during your last software update?”

His glare lacks its usual punch. “You’ve always been expressive.”

“Not all of us were born with the ability not to feel anything.”

“I feel things,” he scoffs.

“Like what?”

“Excitement.” He pulls my ring out of his pocket with an unhinged smile I’ve only seen on two other occasions—when I asked Julian to prom as punishment for him scoring higher than me on the ACT, and when the school’s linebacker, who called me a prude bitch, was caught in a cheating scandal.

I never asked Julian about it, but I suspected he had something to do with the football player being busted and permanently benched from the team for the rest of the year.

“You good?” he asks in the same soft voice he saves for his mother.

My boots squeak together as I rock back. “What if this is a bad idea?”

“Do you plan on getting back together with him?”

“No. Definitely not.”

“Do you want to sell it?”

I consider the option for a few seconds before shaking my head. “And pass that negative energy on to someone else? No.”

“I could buy it off you.”

I choke on my gasp. “What?”

He assesses the ring. “It’s hideous, so I wouldn’t pay more than a hundred for it.”

“Bucks? But it’s worth—”

He interrupts me. “Hundred thousand.”

My eyes bulge. “That’s a lot of money.”

He shrugs.

Asshole. Unlike him, I still remember the days before he was a billionaire, back when our families ordering pizza with extra toppings was considered a luxury.

He casually spins the ring around his pinkie finger.

Sweat clings to my brow. “But…”

Hustling him out of a hundred thousand dollars does sound nice— “The offer expires in three…”

Wait a minute. Why does he want to buy the ring in the first place?

“Two…”

Who cares? Take it!

“Fine!” I shout.

“You accept?”

“Sure.”

“Great. Now with that settled…” He tosses the ring into the concrete mixer. The diamond gets swallowed up by the thick mixture as the machine spins round and round.

“Julian!” I jump to hit the red emergency button, but he yanks me away before I have a chance. All the air is knocked from my lungs as I slam into his body.

Our hard hats bang into each other, and mine falls off and lands at our feet during my fight to get loose. He wraps his other arm around my waist and tightens his hold, making any escape impossible.

“What are you doing?” I hiss like a wounded animal.

“Saving you from yourself.” He hauls me farther away without my feet touching the ground.

“Are you serious? What was the point of offering to pay all that money for a ring you planned on throwing away?” I screech as I shove at the steel band of muscle locked around my body.

“It’ll be worth every penny.”

“But—” My reply gets lost somewhere in the chaos of my mind.

“You didn’t like your ring.”

I rear back. “What?”

“I bet you hated it from the moment Oliver got down on one knee and popped open that cliché Cartier box.”

A two-by-four to the face would be less surprising than his comment.

My pulse quickens. “Why would you think that?”

“Because, like him, it was stuffy, obnoxious, and represented everything he and his pretentious, cookie-cutter family stand for.” Julian’s words hit hard enough to make my legs shake beneath me.