Page 25 of Rulebreaker (Gamebreakers #4)

TWENTY-FIVE

Atlas

Jean-Michel Dubois is arguably one of the most powerful men in the world–and that’s coming from me.

I own companies, hit that billionaire status several years before…and I’m still a bit in awe of his prowess in the business world.

And the hockey world.

He owns the Oakland Eagles, has poached some of the league’s most talented players. And coaches, for that matter. Diana Connors isn’t the first female coach in the NHL, but she’s the one with the most impressive dossier.

“This is beautiful,” Lily murmurs, pulling me from my thoughts of hockey and back into the present.

And face-to-face with the fact that Jean-Michel is also a powerhouse in the wine business.

Oak Ridge specializes in petite sirah…and produces Lily’s favorite.

Hence me pulling a few strings to rent the place out .

Something made easier because Titan Capital–Jean-Michel’s investment arm–has recently partnered with my company. Things are going well, the deal looks to make both of us a fuck-ton of money, and…I’ve gotten to know the man with salt and pepper hair, deep blue eyes, and a grumpy expression a little.

At least until it drifts down to Lily’s and my hands, our fingers interlaced.

Then it softens slightly.

And I’m reminded that knowing Jean-Michel a little means exactly that.

There’s more to the man than the grumpy businessman, especially as a woman hurries up the steps and curls into his side, seemingly heedless of the man’s power and status, completely at ease even with all that surly on his face.

Probably because surly disappears right before he glances down at her, before he gently strokes the hair away from her face and bends to brush his lips over hers. “Hey, buttercup,” he murmurs.

“Hey,” the woman whispers as she drops back onto her heels and looks up.

At me.

She jumps, eyes going wide.

Then wider still when her gaze drifts to Lily.

“I-I’m sorry,” she says, cheeks going pink. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.” She tries to pull back but Jean-Michel just bands his arm around her middle and keeps her against his side.

“Don’t apologize,” Lily says, and I glance down at her, see the amusement in her eyes, her face. “I happen to get a little distracted by my billionaire boyfriend too.”

The woman’s cheeks pinken further, but she smiles back at Lily. “I’m Tiff.”

Lily steps forward and even though it would make introductions easy to let go of her hand, I find that I can’t release her.

Something Jean-Michel seems to track, given the glimmer of humor in his blue eyes.

Still, Lily and Tiff manage to shake hands, complete introductions, and then Lily steps back, shifting closer, her side pressed to mine. Like the couple across from us.

And fuck, I like that too.

“I love your music,” Tiff says. “Your newest album has been on repeat in our house.”

Jean-Michel smiles indulgently. “She’s not lying.”

Tiff, showing that I was right, that just like Lily, she has no fear of her billionaire boyfriend–or fiancée, given the huge diamond on her ring finger.

And I like that most of all.

That they’re settled, tied together. No secrets. No bullshit hangups. Nothing but the two of them versus the rest of the world.

Which, if I’m being truthful, is something that I’ve wanted more than anything–more than the billions, than the houses, the jet, the power.

A family that I can trust, can take care of.

And a woman that I can have that with, a woman who knows all the secret parts of me and doesn’t turn away, doesn’t judge.

Just loves .

Lily, curled against me, her fingers gently tucked into the waistband of my pants, her scent in my nose…she’s that.

Herself from the moment I’ve met her, honest in a way I’ve never known before.

And here for me.

Not my money. Not my power.

Just me .

“I’m so glad to hear that,” Lily says and I shove the sappy shit aside for the moment.

I need to get Jean-Michel out of here–yes, he’s done me a solid by letting me have the space tonight, by coordinating all the surprises I have for Lily…

but those surprises can’t happen with him hanging around, that piercing blue stare seeming to see right through me.

Seeing how much this night, this woman means to me.

Except…fuck it, he doesn’t seem to care that I know how important Tiff is to him–likely because it took all of two seconds to put those pieces together–so I’m not going to care either.

Lily matters.

Lily’s mine.

But I still need to get them out of here.

Like ten minutes ago.

A thought Jean-Michel clearly picks up on because his mouth quirks, so when Lily and Tiff pause in chatting–music has transitioned to travel…

and after Tiff has accepted tickets for a show in Paris (apparently her favorite place in the world), he kisses the top of her head.

“I really should head to that meeting with Brooks and Jace,” he says.

Her expression is adorably befuddled. “I thought you rescheduled?—”

He bends, kisses her lightly. “No, buttercup. I didn’t.” A pointed glance in our direction. “So we should really head out.”

The befuddlement fades and the pink cheeks come back.

But only for a second.

Then there’s humor and mischief and just a sliver of confident plotting. “We’ll have to have dinner soon,” she says.

“Definitely,” Lily agrees.

“Lovely”—she loops her arm through Jean-Michel’s and start hauling him toward a sleek black Range Rover parked nearby—“we’ll let our control freak partners arrange the date, time, and location.”

Lily bursts out laughing.

Tiff keeps hauling Jean-Michel forward.

“Oh, Lily?”

“Yeah?”

“I’d start in the atrium,” she calls and Jean-Michel helps her into the car. “It really is beautiful.”

I bite back a smile, see that Jean-Michel is doing the same as he closes her door and lifts a hand in farewell.

We watch as they drive off.

Then Lily turns in my arms, her red lips curved up in a smile. “Should we start in the atrium?”

“My thoughts exactly.”

We walk down the winding path, the Mediterranean buildings effortlessly blended into the landscape, the sounds of the wind rustling through the vines the softest murmur, the twinkle lights woven through fucking romantic, even to me.

But the atrium is even more beautiful.

The glass-domed room would be gorgeous even if it was empty.

But it’s not empty.

It’s exactly to my specifications–filled with roses and candles and the soft melody of Lily’s favorite country artist playing in the background.

“At-Atlas,” she whispers, halting just inside the door. She glances up at me, eyes glassy, expression so damned soft I know that I’ll never forget how beautiful she looks right now.

So, even though I’d planned to wait until the end of my surprises to tell her all I’m feeling, there’s nothing more natural than giving her the words now. “I love you, Lily Maxwell. More than I thought possible. More than my next breath. More than?— ”

Her breath hitches and she spins, launching herself into my arms. “I love you, too,” she says, those tears clinging to her lashes. “So damned much.” She touches my jaw. “But I need to tell you?—”

I don’t hear the second part. Only the first.

She loves me too.

Fuck–she loves me too.

Those words are echoing through my head and heart and…I kiss her with the whirlwind of emotions, with all the feelings inside me, all the love.

I lift my head and ask, “Ready for the next surprise?”

Her eyes go wide. “Next surprise?”

I take her hand, start drawing her forward, when the rest of her earlier words penetrate. “What’d you need to tell me?”

She hesitates, fingers tightening on mine. But she only says, “It’ll hold.” Then smiles a smile that’s wide and beautiful and filled with love. “For now, I need to know what your next surprise is, handsome.”

I grin, knowing that she has absolutely no idea what I have in store for her.

Which is why I keep moving us forward…and I set about giving Lily the most perfect night of her life.

Having absolutely no idea of what’s about to come for us.