Page 24 of Billionaire’s Cruelty

“Yes, and no,” she replied softly. “Maybe we could go home and get help from there.”

“Going home means losing time, Wendy. Kai could be in real danger.” My heart pounded harder at the thought. Every second felt like it could be the difference between saving him—or being too late.

“I know,” she sighed. “But my friends—our friends—are back home. My contacts here… they’re not as deep as you think.”

I exhaled a heavy sigh, the weight of our helplessness pressing against my chest. “I’m sorry for what I said. I didn’t mean it. I don’t even know what I was thinking.”

Her expression softened. “But you obviously know someone here.”

Her large brown eyes locked onto mine, searching—waiting. The urge to confess swelled inside me, pushing against the walls I’d built around the truth.

“I wish I could tell you everything,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “But there’s no time.”

As reluctant as I felt, Wendy had put herself on the line to protect me. I owed her at least the basics—the truth she needed to fully understand what we were really up against.

She reached out and gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. “You can trust me.”

A gust of wind hit me square in the face—because, of course, it did. If this were a movie, this would be the moment where the hero or heroine faced the truth—the kind of truth that had always been their biggest problem of their life.

Trust issues.

I never pretended to be a perfect person. And as if my list of flaws wasn’t long enough, Wendy had just added a new one to it.

“It’s not that I don’t trust you.”

I lied.

Ten seconds ago, it wouldn’t have felt like a lie. It would’ve rolled off my tongue naturally—sounding convincing, at least to myself. And, at that point, it would’ve been true. I hadn’t even realized that I didn’t trust Wendy. Or anyone, for that matter.

Was that normal? Did other people feel like that?

“I get it.” Wendy’s warm hand slid onto my shoulder, her fingers moving in slow, comforting strokes. “I know we don’t really know each other.”

“We don’t.”

“I’m only here as a favor to Rox—well Chloe.”

“That’s right.” My voice sharpened despite myself. See? My trust issues weren’t irrational—she had just admitted she wasn’t there for me.

“Don’t we all do things we don’t want to for people we love?”

Her bluntness hit me harder than the wind, landing with a sting no breeze could match.

I dipped my head in a small nod, unsure how to respond. “You didn’t have to come.”

“Actually, I didn’t want to come in the first place.”

Ouch.

“Then why are you here?” My voice came out quieter than I intended, the words laced with a vulnerability I couldn’t quite hide.

“Can we get a boba? I’m thirsty.”

I blinked at her sudden change of subject. “Drink your water—boba isn’t going to hydrate you.”

“I want a boba.” She crossed her arms defiantly. “I’m getting a boba whether you like it or not.”

And just like that, the tension cracked—if only a little.