Page 2 of Billionaire’s Ruin

“I live here now,” he paused, then added, “I met my wife while backpacking across Asia.” I couldn’t help but wonder if his wife was local. Maybe I’d save those questions for another day.

I buried my nose in my cup, and he retreated, sensing that the conversation was over.

I could never tire of watching the sea now.

Even though I’d been to the beach many times, it never lost its pull.

My big brother conveniently lived in a large house with its own private stretch of shoreline in Myrtle Beach, but it just didn’t feel quite the same.

But somehow, it felt better here.

Everything was slower, more relaxed, and I had never felt this at ease in my life.

Even though the heat would be unbearable in about an hour, I didn’t mind it at all.

I’d gotten used to the weather quickly—shorts, flip-flops, and freedom to do absolutely nothing.

Then it was time to move indoors.

Over the last month, I’d visited countless playful, novelty-style museums.

When I said fun, I really meant fun.

There was the Wonderfood Museum, the Ghost Museum, the Upside Down Museum, the 3D Trick Art Museum, and the Camera Museum.

There were also some of the more proper ones—museums dedicated to local history and culture, like the Pinang Peranakan Mansion, the Batik Painting Museum, and the Indian Heritage Museum.

And those were just the ones I managed to visit in my spare time, on the days when I wasn’t too lazy to wander around town in the sticky, unbearable weather.

Other times, I ducked into a cool, comfortable café and lost myself in a few pages of whatever book or magazine I could get my hands on.

Reading purely for pleasure felt like a luxury.

For years, I’d never had time to read anything other than medical journals, case studies, or patient files.

Whenever I found a good novel, that nagging feeling that there was always something more pressing would creep in—and I’d abandon the book before I could finish even a few pages.

It wasn’t that I had trouble getting into a story.

I just felt ashamed for actually enjoying myself.

I stared at the black-covered book on the table—Haunting Adeline.

A story so popular on TikTok, a book that had practically lived on my bedside table for at least a year—or God knows how long—and I’d finally managed to get past chapter two.

Guilt-free.

Honestly, I never expected to see the book sold here.

I’d assumed people here were more conservative—that even mentioning sex was considered taboo.

“Hey!”

A familiar voice cut through my thoughts, reminding me I wasn’t really alone in the busy café.

I knew he was arriving today, yet somehow, seeing him still caught me off guard. Especially since I was living in his house, using pretty much everything he owned.

“Dannie.”