Page 111 of Billionaire’s Ruin

The moment the video played, my stomach dropped clean out of my body.

There.

Blurry.

Grainy.

Out of focus.

But still undeniably him.

Dannie.

That man should’ve been half-conscious in a hospital bed.

The man who could barely walk without help.

The man who’d smiled at me like he was dying.

Air cinched tight in my throat.

It was him.

We piled into the cars and tore through the streets, engines snarling like beasts straining against their reins. No one spoke. Even the air felt held hostage. The interior felt suffocating enough to choke on—fear, adrenaline, betrayal all simmering together in a haze.

Clare’s words breaking at the edges through the speaker, her words tumbling out in frantic bursts.

Her excuses.

Her twisted reasoning.

How she thought him taking Kai would give us a “better shot.”

How challenging Mrs. Li directly was suicide.

How handing Kai to someone “stronger” was somehow supposed to protect him.

How using me—June Bennet—as a leverage was supposed to “keep things under control.”

Her words kept spilling through the speaker, but my brain couldn’t absorb any of it.

Because the whole thing was a mindfuck, and none of it added up.

How the hell was he out of a hospital bed?

Why was he running around snatching people?

What was the point of taking Kai?

Why lie to me?

With every mile, confusion tangled tighter inside me, until it felt like barbed wire sitting just beneath my ribcage.

By the time we screeched to a stop in front of the building Clare mentioned, pressure built until it felt like my ribs might burst.

I jumped out before the vehicle even stopped.

Two thugs waited at the entrance—solid, scarred, dressed in black, guns visible. They tensed as I burst forward, but they didn’t point their weapons. Instead, one of them stepped out from the shadows.