Page 23 of Billionaire’s Cruelty

“Haih, that’s considered married in the eyes of our gods and ancestors. And everyone.” She chuckled softly, like she was humoring a naive child who didn’t understand how the world worked.

“Not legally. We didn’t sign anything.”

“Maybe so,” she said with a shrug, “but you’ll always be his wife in our eyes.”

Wendy’s words shot out like a bullet. “You know him?”

The woman tilted her head, giving Wendy a look that suggested the answer was obvious. “Who doesn’t know him around here? Every month, we pay him protection fees. And before him, his father—then his grandfather.”

We hurriedly left the tart shop when I realized the owners knew Dannie.

It struck me then—they weren’t the only ones. With that thought, the weight of unseen eyes settled on me. An eerie sensation crawled up my spine, prickling every nerve along the way.

Kai and my brother had people watching over me before. Their so-called security team had always been discreet—comforting, even. But this… this felt different. Unsettling.

Wendy still had questions—I could feel them hanging in the air, thick and heavy. Her stern stare burned into the side of my face, and I kept my eyes fixed ahead, avoiding hers. I wasn’t an overly private person, but there were certain things I preferred to keep to myself.

“What do you want to do next?”

Funny that she should ask. Wasn’t she the one who supposedly had all the answers? My brother and Chloe certainly seemed to think so.

“You tell me! You’re the one with all the connections.”

“What do you mean?”

I rolled my eyes, irritation prickling at the edges of my patience.

“I don’t know,” I snapped. “Check your little black book—maybe you’ve got a contact in the black market, or a mafia boss who owes you a favor.”

“Fuck you.”

“Thank you very much. Fuck you, too.”

We marched down the street, power-walking with no real destination. If my pace got any faster, I’d be jogging. Wendy trailed beside me, her steps quick and deliberate, matching my speed. She didn’t push—didn’t press me for answers. Instead, she followed quietly, like a patient mother waiting for her stroppy teenager to burn off an unreasonable tantrum.

Except I wasn’t the tantrum-throwing type.

Well… that was a lie.

My version of a tantrum was quieter—subtle enough that no one usually noticed. But right now? Right now, I wasn’t sure I could hide it.

I didn’t know exactly how I was feeling. But it felt good—almost freeing—to finally let my emotions out. To be angry. To be scared.

“Can we slow down?” Wendy asked at last, her voice breaking the tense silence.

I had no idea how to pull us out of the awkward moment I’d created by snapping at her. Bless her beautiful soul for not walking away. We came to a stop at a busy crossroad, standing beside a group of students in crisp uniforms. They laughed and chatted, each holding an ice cream cone or a cup of boba tea, blissfully unaware of the storm swirling inside me.

“I thought this would be easy,” Wendy continued, brushing a stray hair from her face. “But this… this is out of my hands.”

Her words cut through me like a knife.

“So, does that mean you’re going to leave me?” My voice trembled despite my best efforts to keep it steady.

“No, of course not.” She hesitated, biting her lip.

“May… may—” she stuttered, struggling to find the right words, “maybe we should both walk away from this. Leave this place.”

“Leave Kai?” I turned to face her fully, scanning her expression for any sign that she was joking—or losing her mind.