Page 62 of The Billionaire's Vow

Relief settled in his chest when she didn’t resist, curling into him like she had last night.The way her nose pressed against his neck, as if seeking warmth or maybe validation made him want to move mountains for her.The thought made something deep inside him ache.

She was always searching, wasn’t she?Even in the way she leaned into him, her body molded against his as if it was the only place she felt safe.He wished he could take that longing away, wished he could rewrite the past that had left her feeling so starved for love that she mistook obligation for affection.

"Why are you so good to me?"she murmured.

He chuckled, his arms tightening around her, as if he could shield her from the world."Because you need someone to take care of you.And it makes me feel good when you let me."

"I can take care of myself," she grumbled, but even as she said it, she snuggled deeper into his embrace.

He smiled, though she couldn’t see it."You absolutely can,mi amore," he murmured, rubbing his hand over her back in slow, soothing strokes."You’re very capable.But… I’ve done a lot of bad things in my life.Making dinner for you, protecting you, comforting you when you're down—it helps me balance out the bad stuff."

She snorted softly."You’re a good person, Dimitri.I’ve heard the stories about how you help people.You're incredibly generous with your time and money."

"I have a lot of money to be generous with," he countered."You, on the other hand, shouldn’t be as generous.Your parents…"

He let the words trail off, but the silence was heavy with unspoken truths.

Giselle swallowed hard."They don’t deserve my generosity," she admitted quietly."They only act like they love me when I’m giving them something.”She sighed, the soft sobs abating now.“Their affection for me is conditional and I won’t do it anymore.”There was a long silence, then she continued, “I told them that this morning.That’s why I went over there.I told my mother I wouldn’t pay off her credit cards this month or in the future."

Dimitri shifted, reaching for her phone he’d just tossed.He turned the screen toward her."Is that why you have twenty text messages and five unanswered calls from her?"

She lifted her head."I do?"

"Yeah."He brushed a wisp of hair off her face, his touch gentle but grounding."I guess she's not taking it well."

A bitter laugh escaped her."No, I’m sure she’s furious.But she’ll get over it.Or she won’t.Either way, I can’t keep throwing money at her and hoping it’ll change something."

"And your father?"

She let out a slow, weary sigh, laying her head back against his shoulder."He’ll be furious next month when he’s kicked out of the pub and can’t get any more beer at the grocery store.I won’t pay his bills anymore either."Her voice wavered."He’s an alcoholic and needs help."

Dimitri didn’t say anything, just traced soothing circles on her back.

"I told him I’d pay for a stint at a rehab center if he promised to stop drinking, but he yelled at me.Told me he wasn’t a drunk – his words, not mine."Her fingers curled into the fabric of Dimitri’s shirt."He looked me right in the eye and swore he wasn’t a drunk.Like he hasn't been drinking since I was a kid.Like I don't remember all the nights he disappeared or the times I had to pick him up off the floor.Like he didn’t have a beer in his hand even in that moment."Her voice cracked, just a little."I suppose he needs time to realize how much he’s dependent on alcohol."

"Everyone needs to come to the realization of their addictions in their own time," Dimitri agreed softly.

She turned in his lap, her dark eyes searching his."Is that what you’ve done?Helped me see that I’m addicted to helping my family?"

"I don’t think it’s an addiction, honey," he murmured, cupping her cheek, his thumb tracing the delicate curve of her jaw."I think you’re just so desperate for their attention and validation that you pay them off.And their emotional blackmail works, because when someone feels invisible, even a demand for money can feel like love."

She sucked in a sharp breath.

Because it was true.

Her parents had never loved her—not in the way parents were supposed to love their children.Love should’ve been warm, unwavering.It should’ve been given freely, not bartered like a debt that needed to be repaid.

But that wasn’t what she’d grown up with.

Her mother’s affection was conditional.Diane’s “love” came in smiles and soft words when she needed something, and in cold, cutting remarks when she didn’t get her way.Love was a currency, and Giselle had spent her entire life trying to buy it, throwing money into a bottomless pit that would never be full.

Her father’s love was even worse.It had always been distant, absent, drowned in alcohol and regret.She could count on one hand the times he’d hugged her as a child.He didn’t remember birthdays, didn’t call unless he needed something.And when she was little, she used to try to fix it—clean up his messes, take care of things so maybe, just maybe, he’d see her.

But he never did.

And he never would.

Her throat tightened."I don’t know how to stop wanting them to love me."