Page 135 of Billionaire’s Ruin

I barked out a laugh, unable to hold it back. She went visibly mortified, clutching the blanket to her chest like it was a shield against humiliation.

“You think I care about that?” I said, my voice still gravelly with sleep.

“Yes, you should,” she grumbled, rolling onto her side to face the wall.

I pushed myself up on an elbow, watching the soft rise and fall of her shoulders. Morning light filtered through the thin curtains, painting a soft gold across her bare shoulders. She didn’t seem real. Angelic. Too good for the kind of world I came from.

For a moment, I let myself imagine it—waking up to this every morning. To her hair in my pillow, the sleepy sound of her voice, the warmth of her tucked against me.

A dangerous fantasy.

I reached out, brushing a stray strand behind her ear. “You look beautiful.”

“Liar,” she whispered into the pillow, but the smile in her voice betrayed her.

We lay there in silence, but it wasn’t empty. It was full—of everything we’d said last night and everything we were too afraid to say now. The hum of the old ceiling fan blended with the faint sounds from the streets below, laughter and footsteps drifting up with the river breeze.

When June rolled toward me, her expression had changed—more tender, but shadowed with something heavier.

“We can’t keep doing this,” she said quietly, her voice gentling.

The words hit like a blade I’d already seen coming.

“I know,” I answered.

“You have responsibilities,” she whispered. “Lucy… Jenny…”

I nodded slowly. “They depend on me. If I break the engagement, Lucy loses her family. Her inheritance. Everything. And Jenny… she’s not too stable yet. She needs routine. Support. A home.” I swallowed hard. “I’m the only one who can give them that.”

June’s eyes flickered away, glistening. “What about you, Kai? What do you need?”

“You.”

I didn’t hesitate.

Her breath trembled.

My heart did too.

“I haven’t slept properly in months,” I admitted. “Not without pills. Not without drowning everything out. But last night… I slept.” I exhaled. “I slept because you were beside me.”

She didn’t speak. Her fingers twisted the blanket, knuckles pale.

“Dannie said you’d ruin me,” she whispered.

I let out a breath that was half-laugh, half-pain. “He’s probably right.”

“Then why—” Her voice cracked before she caught herself. “Why did you ask for this date?”

“Because I’m selfish,” I said simply. “Because I wanted one day where it was just you and me. No lies. No obligations. No one else deciding our lives.”

Stillness settled between us—thick, heavy, undeniably real.

Finally, she whispered, “And now?”

I ran a shaky hand through my hair. “Now… we both know what has to happen.”

Her eyes met mine. The ache in them mirrored my own—raw, impossible, lingering.