Page 17 of The Kiss that Captured a Billionaire (Heart & Soul #2)

She stepped out, pulled the towel off the rack, and dried off. Humming a show tune under her breath, she wrapped the towel around her, found Theo’s comb, and bent at the waist to brush her damp hair out. She was rising again when a speck of green on the white tile caught her eye.

Frowning, she bent and plucked it up. Her breath caught as she realized what it was. It was a tiny, perfectly pressed four-leaf clover.

The clover had been in her locket since childhood—a charm from her grandfather, never removed. She straightened slowly, the damp air feeling suddenly too heavy against her skin.

Her gaze slid to the counter. She had left her locket there last night, before they’d stepped into the shower together. It was gone.

Rose frowned. She searched the bathroom floor, the drawers, even the laundry basket, thinking it might have gotten tangled up by mistake. Nothing.

She gently fingered the clover. The only way it could have fallen out was if the locket had been opened.

Maybe Theo’s curious. Maybe he has it.

She pulled the towel free and dressed. She would ask him if he had seen it. Her fingers went to her neck out of habit. She turned, catching her reflection in the mirror. Her expression softened. She didn’t know if she looked different now—but she felt it.

“Everything will be alright. He didn’t leave you because he didn’t like what happened. It wasn’t just a one-night stand,” she whispered, staring at her reflection.

And if it was? her bad side asked.

“If it was, then that is all you were going to give him anyway,” she replied, knowing it was a lie.

She sighed and turned away. She’d find Theo. His reaction would reveal if her trust had been a mistake or a gift.

Theo stood in front of the wall of windows in his living room, staring at the faint color of sunlight rising on the horizon.

Sleep had been an illusion after his discovery that Rose and Livia’s child were one and the same.

Even with Rose curled into him, her breathing slow and even, her warmth seeping into his skin…

his mind hadn’t stopped—nor had his feelings of guilt.

He told himself his plans were for her protection—that she needed him, even if she didn’t see it yet.

He’d tried over dinner to steer the conversation toward her parents. She had shrugged and said there wasn’t much to talk about, as they had died when she was only a month old.

When she had asked about his family instead, he’d redirected her back to her grandparents, hoping to glean a morsel of information about Livia.

He listened as she painted vivid pictures of backstage mishaps, eccentric directors, and Mimi’s close encounters with the artists who had performed there over the years.

He’d laughed—really laughed—but beneath the humor, the birthmark burned in his thoughts like an ember that refused to go out.

Later, she’d driven him mad again in the bedroom, stripping away any hope of keeping a clear head. And then she’d fallen asleep in his arms, soft and utterly trusting, while he lay awake in the dark, tracing the mark on her arm, thinking of Livia.

His plan was already forming—solid, immovable.

He would take her home.

Markos or Nikos could handle the London and Paris meetings. He’d take Rome and Athens himself. That would give him weeks with her. Weeks to help her settle into his world, meet his family, stand beside him as his.

They would marry as soon as possible.

A darker thought slipped in. After, the second time they’d made love tonight, he’d noticed a tear in the condom. Likely his fault—too impatient, too eager. He’d discarded it without a word. It wasn’t the time to tell her.

He turned when a soft knock, followed by the quiet click of the door opening, pulled him from his thoughts.

Nikos stepped in, his sharp eyes scanning the room like a man who noticed everything. His gaze paused on the pair of delicate heels left in the foyer, then on Theo’s jacket draped casually over the armrest. His eyebrow arched in silent question.

Theo gave a small, deliberate nod.

Nikos exhaled slowly, the sound equal parts resignation and understanding. Without a word, he tilted his head toward the office.

They walked in; leaving the door slightly ajar in their distraction. Theo moved to the windows, the city stretching out below in a glittering sprawl, his back to Nikos.

For a long moment, there was only the hum of the building and their breaths.

When Nikos finally spoke, his voice carried the weight of something carefully chosen.

“I got a message. From Warren Roberts—the oldest son of the old woman who used to live next to Chris. He lives on the West Coast and didn’t respond until the wee hours here.”

Theo’s shoulders stiffened. “Go on.”

“He remembered the couple from years ago because he used to hang out with Chris Smythe.” Nikos stepped closer, his voice steady but quieter now.

“He said Chris met a young woman from Italy… a beautiful woman named Livia. He didn’t remember her last name.

She came over on a visa to attend Juilliard. ”

Theo turned slightly, his pulse a slow, heavy thud in his chest.

“According to Warren, Chris and Livia fell hard for each other. Warren was there when they eloped. Livia was three months pregnant. She hid it. According to what Chris told Warren, Livia’s parents never would’ve approved of him, especially with them both being so young.

Chris told Warren Livia’s parents had other plans for her—someone else she was supposed to marry.

But Chris adored her… and their daughter when she came along. ”

The words landed like blows. Each one cemented what Theo already knew in his bones.

Nikos’s voice softened, tinged with something like grief.

“A month after the baby’s birth, on the drive home from a Medieval Arts Festival, a semi blew a tire in bad weather. Livia died instantly, along with two others. Chris…” Nikos’s throat worked. “Chris was left in a vegetative state.”

Theo stared at the city lights, each point of brightness blurring at the edges.

“Warren lost touch with the grandparents after that,” Nikos went on quietly. “But he saw Chris’s obituary five years later.”

The silence that followed was heavy enough to press into Theo’s chest.

Nikos moved closer, placing a hand on his shoulder—a small gesture of solidarity in the storm gathering inside him.

Theo lowered his gaze, his other hand closing around the locket in his pocket. He pulled it free and placed it in Nikos’s palm.

Nikos flipped it open. His eyebrows rose at the photograph, then he gave a low, knowing whistle. “So this is why you’ve been looking like a man caught between heaven and hell.”

Theo’s voice was low, hard with certainty. “We’ll need to get a DNA sample from Rose to confirm it, but I know she’s Livia’s daughter.”

Nikos studied the tiny image of Livia, her smile frozen in time, then shut the locket with a quiet snap. “I didn’t realize she looked so much like Livia.”

Theo nodded once, the motion short, final.

Nikos’s mouth quirked in something between irony and awe. “Sometimes it’s a small world.”

Theo’s gaze turned inward, the truth of it pulsing in his blood. Small world… and getting smaller. Because there was no way in hell he was letting Rose slip out of his arms now—not when she was his in every way that mattered.

The cool marble chilled her bare feet as she padded out of the bedroom, careful not to make a sound. She hadn’t meant to eavesdrop—only to pass quietly through the living room and find something to drink—but Nikos’s voice stopped her mid-step.

“…Chris Smythe…”

Her breath caught.

Her father’s name.

Every instinct told her to walk away. Instead, she drifted toward the partially closed door, each step drawn by an invisible thread until she stood just outside his office.

Nikos was speaking now, his deep voice steady, clinical, almost like a storyteller recounting someone else’s tragedy. But the story he was telling… was hers.

She leaned in, the words hitting her in pieces—Livia, Juilliard, eloped, pregnant. A medieval festival. The truck. The accident.

Her fingers curled against the doorframe for support.

Her mother. Her father.

She wanted to cry out, to demand how they even knew these things, but shock pinned her in place.

“…Lorenzo will want to know as soon as it can be confirmed,” Nikos finished.

Her knees wobbled. Lorenzo?

Her grandmother had told her—clear as day—that Lorenzo and Sophia Alliata had wanted nothing to do with her. They had told her grandparents that it would have been better if she had never been born.

Her stomach churned at the thought of meeting them now—after all these years.

“So, what’s next… now that you’ve found her?” Nikos asked.

Theo spoke, his voice calm, deliberate. “I’ll contact Mimi Devan later this morning and tell her that if the theatre wants a charitable donation, she’ll have to terminate Rose’s living and working arrangements. Immediately.”

Rose’s head snapped up, disbelief slicing through the haze.

“She’ll have no choice but to depend on me,” Theo continued smoothly. “I’ll take her first to Greece. We’ll marry there. Then to Italy—where I’ll introduce her to her grandparents.”

Marry? Greece? Italy?

Her heart pounded in her ears as Nikos asked, “How do you think your godfather’s going to handle the fact that you married his granddaughter without asking first?”

Theo didn’t hesitate. “He’ll approve. It would be the perfect merger between our families.”

Rose bit her lip when there was a lull in their conversation, as if both men were deep in their own thoughts.

Nikos wryly continued. “How do you think Rose will feel about her sudden engagement?”

“She’ll accept it. I told you it was inevitable—especially after last night,” Theo replied.

The cold certainty in his tone made her skin prickle.

“What other choice would she have once she no longer has the theatre to hide in? She has no other family. She’ll have no job.

No place to live. And… there’s a possibility she could be pregnant. The condom broke.”

The air left her lungs in a sharp, soundless gasp.

“Besides, what woman do you know would who turn down being the granddaughter of Italian nobility—and marrying a billionaire?” Theo asked.

Nikos snorted out a laugh. “When you asked me that same question before, I wasn’t thinking of Rose. But… knowing her, I wouldn’t place any bets on it until you get a ring on her finger—or at least get her on a plane heading to Greece.”

Her gaze landed on Nikos’s hand when he waved at Theo through the crack in the door.

He was holding her locket.

The floor seemed to tilt.

Heat flooded her face—not from embarrassment, but from a white-hot fury that made her fingers tremble.

Without a sound, she backed away from the door. The surrounding room blurred, her body moving on instinct as she slipped into the living room and grabbed her purse, shoes, and shawl.

It wasn’t Theo’s words that gutted her—it was the cool certainty in his voice. The warmth she had fallen for was gone, replaced by calculation. As if she were just another business deal for him—one he’d made with her mother’s parents.

By the time she reached the elevator, her resolve had crystallized into steel.

She wasn’t a delicate bloom that needed Theo Kallistratos—or anyone—to save her.

Mimi would absolutely accept the terms of Theo’s donation. Her first thought would be the theatre—not to the girl who did maintenance.

That was fine.

What Theo didn’t realize was that she had her own resources. Her grandfather had left her enough to live comfortably. Plus, she had her degree. She could always find another job.

She stepped into the elevator and pulled her phone from her purse, her hand shaking so badly she nearly dropped it.

Kerry picked up on the third ring, her voice muffled with sleep. “Rose? It’s barely?—”

A choked sob ripped from Rose’s throat before she could speak.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Kerry’s voice sharpened instantly, all sleep gone.

Rose swallowed hard, the words scraping her throat. “Has your brother left yet?”

“No… we were out late last night. Why?”

Rose closed her eyes, inhaling shakily. “Would he… be interested in a little company on his trip back to Nebraska?”

There was a beat of silence, and then Kerry’s voice softened. “Oh, sweetheart…” She murmured something low and fierce that Rose didn’t catch, then said, “I’ll meet you at the theatre in half an hour.”

Rose nodded even though Kerry couldn’t see it. “Thank you.” Her voice cracked.

She ended the call before the tears could fall.

By the time the cab pulled from the curb, her jaw was set and her gaze was fixed on the bright ribbon of asphalt ahead—a road she would choose, not one Theo carved for her.

Theo thought she had no choice. But she did. And she was about to take it.