Page 40 of How to Train Your Billionaire

He’s passed out in the recliner, mouth wide open. I really hope that noise came from him, because the alternative is a little too traumatizing to consider.

Francesca rises and gently removes his shoes, setting them beside his chair. It’s oddly endearing, watching her fuss over him like that. He’s been alone so long. I’ve never seen anyone care for him this way.

He never remarried. No kids of his own. It always struck me as a little sad.

But now? Now he has Francesca.

With each passing day, I find myself slipping deeper under whatever spell she’s cast. Even my uncle is smitten.

Sure, she sits cross-legged in dining chairs and eats an entire bag of something called Zombie Fajita Takis without flinching. The smell alone sent me to the other side of the house.

But in a plot twist that would shock even Agatha Christie, Frankie’s growing on me like an unwanted rash.

She’s not the type of girl I was raised to expect. Nothing like the prim and proper girls I’m accustomed to from my prep school days. Not polished. Not Ivy League. She’s just ... real.

She’s the kind of girl you spend a fun, forgettable night with in college.

Except ... I don’t see how you could possibly forget about a girl like Frankie.

The next morning, I wander into the kitchen for coffee and immediately catch the vibe—Charles and Francesca are mid-conversation and go quiet when I appear. They’re huddled over the table, surrounded by a stack of travel guides.

I pour a mug of coffee and nod toward the books. “Are you planning your next escape?”

Charles nods. “I suggested theElysium. Frankie suggested Las Vegas.”

“Vegas?” I cock an eyebrow at her.

She bristles. “What? It’s fun there, dang it.”

“Oh yeah, nothing screams ‘vacation’ like dragging an eighty-two-year-old to Vegas.”

Frankie sticks her tongue out. “There are shows. Restaurants. Lots to do, actually.”

Charles shrugs. “Yes, butElysiumis ... well, it’s Elysium.”

From the look on her face, Frankie has no idea what that means.

I crack a smile. “I’m headed out this afternoon. Just let me know where you end up.”

Charles nods.

“Have a safe flight,” Frankie says, stacking the guides.

I nod, but something twists in my chest.

I expected to leave Hawaii the same way I came—untouched, unmoved, counting the minutes until I could get back to a world that made sense.

Instead, I find myself searching for answers I don’t have.

My bags are packed. My first-class ticket is booked. But for the first time in a long time ... I’m not sure I want to go.

And that? That’s the part that knocks the breath out of me.

Back home, I slide quickly into the usual routine: work, gym, the occasional dinner out.

Now, I’ve got Maddie for the weekend. She’s cross-legged on the floor, brow furrowed in concentration as she lines up plastic horses in what appears to be some kind of epic standoff.

I don’t ask. Last time I questioned the logic of her games, she gave me a full TED Talk on why unicorns would absolutely destroy medieval knights.