Page 2 of Billionaire’s Heartbreak

Baldy and another man rushed over, positioning themselves between me and the driver as his volume only increased. Long strings of curses flew in my direction—words meant for me, my mother, and likely my entire lineage.

I didn’t understand most of it.

“Can you get up?” Siti asked gently, her face close to mine.

I nodded.

With her supporting me, I pushed myself upright. Only then did I realize how long I’d been sitting there. Traffic had begun backing up behind the yellow car, horns blaring impatiently. The driver waved frantically, shouting for me to move—now.

As I stood, a small crowd formed behind me. The driver’s wife stepped out of the car, joining in, her voice shrill as she added her own string of insults to the chaos.

“What’s going on?” I asked Siti, already realizing she was just as lost as I was.

“I’m not sure,” she said, her fingers curling tighter around my arm. “But we should get out of here.”

Guilt pricked at me. Dragging Siti into this mess hadn’t been fair. Needing a personal assistant for something as simple as attending a funeral made me feel useless—incapable. Weak.

Things hadn’t always been this way.

For most of the past year, I’d stubbornly refused help from my family. I told them I was fine. That I could manage. It was Liam—the quiet one, the brother who usually stayed out of my business—who ignored me completely and went straight to Siti with a job offer and a salary she couldn’t refuse.

I’d been annoyed at first. Furious, even. He’d gone behind my back after I’d explicitly said no. But the moment Siti showed up, my life shifted.

She was calm where I spiraled, organized where I shut down. Somehow, she made chaos feel manageable. With her beside me, I could breathe again—really breathe—for the first time in months.

Now, though, the noise was pushing past what my brain could tolerate. Shouting. Honking. Voices overlapping in a sharp, relentless wave.

I pressed my fingers to my temple, trying to hold myself together. The stress—no, the grief, the anticipation of it—was clawing its way up my throat.

“Why did you run into the road like that?” Siti asked gently, though her grip tightened around my arm. “It must have been important.”

Her tone wasn’t accusing. Just curious. Concerned.

Over the past year, I’d thought a lot about what Lincoln had been telling me all along—that I needed to grow up, to stop acting like a child. Maybe he’d been right. He hadn’t been cruel. Just honest. Being the youngest meant I’d spent my whole life being protected, spoiled without even realizing it.

But things were different now. I had a child of my own to care for. I couldn’t keep expecting everyone else to catch me when I fell. It was time I learned to stand on my own.

“I…” I opened my mouth. There was no shame in the truth. None at all. And yet—“Pads,” I lied finally. “I was going to grab some from the store.”

The moment I said it, it sounded pathetic.

“Oh.” Siti’s brows knitted together. “I packed some for you. They’re in your suitcase.”

“Really?” I shook my head, instantly regretting it as pain throbbed behind my eyes. The headache was getting worse. “I didn’t unpack,” I admitted.

I’d traded unpacking for sleep—desperate, bone-deep sleep. But even if I’d seen them, I would’ve found another excuse to leave. I needed an escape.

Pads or no pads.

The driver was still shouting. Even though I was well off the road now, standing by the curb, his rage hadn’t cooled. If anything, it had grown louder. More vehicles were honking behind him, voices joining the chaos, demanding the road be cleared.

“What the fuck is all that noise?” The voice cut through everything.

A woman in a tailored black suit stormed out of the funeral home, Chanel-sharp from head to toe. Pearls. Heels. Authority woven into every step.

“Do they know where they are?” she snapped. “Show some fucking respect!”

“Laura,” I said, the name slipping out before I fully registered her.