Page 66 of Billionaire’s Cruelty

Some called me “sam sam,” others “biu yi,” “biu sou,” “kao mou,” and “yiyi.” The only one I recognized was “yiyi,” which sounded like “auntie” in Mandarin. As for the rest, I was clueless. My knowledge of the Chinese family tree was embarrassingly limited. Growing up, I had simply called any older man “uncle” and any older woman “auntie,” which had always seemed to work just fine.

“You’re very pretty,” one of the younger girls said shyly, planting a soft kiss on my cheek after completing her greeting.

“Oh, you see? Children like you,” Dannie’s grandmother said with a delighted chuckle.

I smiled awkwardly, “I wasn’t really doing anything.”

“Exactly. You should have children of your own,” she added with a pointed look that made my stomach twist with discomfort.

I shifted uneasily in my seat, silently pleading for this ordeal to end. Just then, in the blur of moving bodies, I caught a glimpse of Kai’s face. It was fleeting—no more than two seconds—but enough to make my pulse quicken.

“Isn’t it time for cake?” I blurted out, a little too eagerly.

Dannie, sensing my discomfort, sprang into action. He helped his grandmother rise from her chair while barking instructions to someone nearby, presumably about the cake. Relief flooded through me—finally, an escape from this never ending procession.

He guided his grandmother toward a small, elevated stage where an elaborate cake waited, its tiers adorned with delicate sugar flowers. As he helped her up the steps, he raised an eyebrow at me, silently urging me to follow.

“Do I need to?” I mouthed, hoping he’d let me off the hook.

“June, where are you?” His grandmother’s voice cut through the noise, leaving me with no choice but to hurry to her side. She beamed as the photographer positioned us around the cake, and with Dannie on her other side, she cut the first slice while the camera flashed repeatedly.

Just when I thought the worst was over, she clapped her hands. “Family photo! Laura, gather everyone.”

I barely suppressed a groan as Laura began herding people toward the stage. What followed was ten grueling minutes of endless photos. The first five shots were genuine family portraits. After that, it was a mix of random guests—some claiming distant ties to Dannie, while others were clearly just business associates. A few, from the looks of them, were probably triad members.

As we finally stepped off the stage, I leaned close to Dannie and whispered. “You owe me big time.”

14

Kai

Dannie’s grandmother wore an exquisite set of lavender jade jewelry: a necklace, earrings and a bracelet. The stones ranged from half an inch to a full inch in size. They might not have been the most expensive jewelry I had ever seen, but it must have cost a fortune to collect enough of those rare stones to craft such an elaborate set. And the purple jade she wore wasn’t just any ordinary variety—it was the rare and coveted Di Wang purple jade, a shade once reserved for emperors. A true symbol of class and prestige.

The old lady had a kind face, or so it seemed. She smiled the entire time I was there. It wasn’t a wide grin but a polite, measured smile—one that was anything but genuine. Everyone in the business world was familiar with such gestures. I, for one, had spent years perfecting a smile that could appear on demand, one that needed to be charming and not at all creepy. Trust me, it took practice.

There were days when faking a pleasant demeanor felt impossible, no matter what. And I had to hand it to the old lady—she was a master at delivering a flawless, effortless, and elegant fake smile.

It was one thing hearing about June’s arrangement with Dannie.

Seeing it firsthand was an entirely different story.

If June hadn’t confided in me, I would have assumed they were a real couple—just like every other person in this ballroom. And the calculating old lady made sure everyone knew that June was her granddaughter-in-law. She couldn’t fool me with her sweet facade.

I’d seen this act before. Older people loved to meddle in their family’s affairs when they should have just minded their own business. This woman, like my own mother, undoubtedly took pleasure in pulling strings.

The way she orchestrated the evening was no accident. She had people lining up, presenting themselves one by one, and she took the time to introduce June to each one of them personally. No one else was seated beside her—not even Laura, the woman who, from what I had overheard, had devoted most of her life to caring for the old woman.

Without making any formal announcement, she had cemented the image of June and Dannie as a couple. And in many ways, that silent declaration was far more personal and powerful.

I’d never cared about the background of the women I dated. Sure, my crew ran checks on everyone I encountered, but as long as their bad intentions weren’t aimed at me, it didn’t matter. Some of my dates had criminal records. Nothing too serious—petty theft at most—no bank robberies or mastermind-level scams.

But watching June being embraced by Dannie’s family, friends, and dubious associates, I couldn’t help but wonder: how big of a favor had she done for Dannie? Did she fully understand what she was getting herself into? And more importantly, would this favor ever truly end?

I expected them to finish the introductions and move on to cutting cake. I was wrong. More people waited to meet her. I knew what this meant in the business world. These people were seizing the opportunity to become more than mere acquaintances—to pave the way for future opportunities.

Jealousy coiled inside me, dark and relentless. I couldn’t see how June could ever escape being Mrs. Wu. Even if we eloped and married in Vegas., these people would always see her as his wife. She could never truly be mine.

Jenny needed me.