Page 6 of Billionaire’s Heartbreak

I loosened my black tie and hit the button to lower the window. I stuck my head out like a dog, but the car wasn’t moving.

No wind. Just heat pressing against my face, thick and damp against my skin. Somewhere beyond the tinted glass, traffic horns blared, engines growled, and voices rose and fell in a constant stream.

Dave said something. Lucy did too. But the street noise swallowed their voices whole.

“We’re not far, right? I’m walking.”

I didn’t need to see their faces to know the objections were coming. But it wasn’t a question. It was a decision.

Dave stepped out beside me, slightly behind, holding the umbrella over me instead of himself. Behind us, Lucy struggled to gather her things, lifting Huan Huan from the car seat and calling my name.

“Is it hot today?” I asked. “I couldn’t breathe in there.”

I glanced at Dave, but his frown wasn’t the answer I wanted.

“Are you feeling all right, sir?”

I nodded. Whatever I was feeling, it had nothing to do with the weather. The sky was thick with clouds, heavy and gray—rain waiting to fall. The umbrella was probably for that. Or maybe for shade.

People had done stranger things for my well-being since the abduction. I’d stopped asking why. It rarely made sense.

“We didn’t have to come today,” Dave said, catching up beside me.

“I had to.” I held his gaze, letting him study my face—the real reason he was walking shoulder to shoulder with me.

“It’s important I’m here.”

“We didn’t need paparazzi. We could’ve paid for coverage in Shanghai.”

“Of course. And it would look fake.” I gave a short breath of a laugh. “Readers aren’t stupid.”

I knew that better than most. I’d learned from my mother—a master at manipulating the media, selling the world a perfect family that never existed. Even before social media, Hong Kong paparazzi knew how to sell exclusivity.

Secrets. Scandal. People loved dirty laundry.

My pace quickened, but it only made the heat worse. Sweat gathered beneath my collar, and the damp fabric of my shirt clung faintly to the back of my neck. Lucy’s calls to wait faded behind me. Either I’d shaken her off, or she’d given up trying.

A crowd had gathered ahead.

I rose slightly onto my toes, trying to see past them. The sound reached us before we did—a restless mixture of excited voices, camera shutters, and people calling out names. Phones were already raised above heads, their screens flashing as strangers tried to capture whatever had drawn the crowd.

Dave moved closer. Two more security men rushed in, forming a tight circle around me, arms out as they pushed bodies back. People turned and stared.

Then the pushing started.

Security or not, they were still human. The youngest guard—barely six months into the job—lost his footing and fell into me. Dave caught him mid-fall, shoving him upright again before he could crash into me.

Dave shot him a look. The kid stiffened instantly, pushing harder now, desperate to avoid the scolding he knew was coming.

I turned around, trying to spot Lucy and Huan Huan, but the crowd had swallowed them whole the moment we pushed through. Bodies pressed in from every side. Shoulders bumped against mine. Someone’s camera struck my arm.

For a second, panic tightened in my chest. This must be what it felt like in a zombie apocalypse—that moment when people got separated and you knew, knew, that was how they died.

Oh God. I felt like I had already failed.

As a husband. As a father. As the man who was supposed to protect his family.

“How’s Huan?” I shouted, twisting my head toward Dave, forcing my voice through the traffic noise and the rising murmur of the crowd.