Page 31 of Billionaire’s Cruelty

Slowly, I pulled out one of the six chairs at the dining table and lowered myself onto it. This table was new. He used to have a sleek, rectangular glass one—cold, sharp-edges, like him. Now, it had been replaced by a round white marble table, complete with a built-in lazy Susan. It felt… softer. More intimate.

I ran my fingers along the smooth surface before glancing back at him. “What happened to the old table?”

Dannie paused mid-knead, his lips twitching as if debating how much to reveal. “Hmm…” A slight pause. “Someone fell on it.”

“Oh.” I regretted asking immediately.

The way he said it—calm, flippant—hinted that there was a longer, far more interesting story behind those words. But I wasn’t sure I wanted to know who fell on it, or how.

With Dannie, the answer was rarely as simple as it seemed.

“Did you hurt yourself?”

Damn it. I couldn’t believe that was the first thing out of my mouth. I didn’t care who had destroyed the old table—but I cared about something else. Something that had everything to do with why I was here.

Dannie shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. How could someone who smiled like that—soft, boyish, the kind of smile that wouldn’t be out of place on a K-pop idol—be so dangerous? I guess that’s why people say looks can be deceiving.

I shifted my gaze around the kitchen, noticing it had undergone a makeover too. The once dark wooded cabinets had been replaced by sleek, modern designs—white cupboards with a glossy black countertop. Soft lighting glowed from beneath the upper cabinets, casting a warm brightness over the otherwise windowless space. Everything about it was cleaner, sharper… colder.

“I didn’t know you cooked,” I said, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. Smooth June.

What else was I supposed to say to my ex while trying to work up the nerve to ask him for a fake document—so I could chase after a man who wasn’t even officially my boyfriend?

“I don’t, really,” he admitted with a small shrug. “But baking calms my nerves.”

The irony wasn’t lost on me. Given his line of work, I could imagine how much he needed to be calm. Lives depended on him—just like they did on me, though in a very different way.

“Are you any good at it?”

Dannie’s smile faded.

“Cut the bullshit, June.” His voice hardened, sharp and direct. So much for baking being relaxing. “What do you want from me? Why are you running around Hong Kong like this, looking for a fake visa?”

“I…” The words stuck in my throat. Kai. His face flashed through my mind—a reminder of why I was here.

“How did you know I was here?” I asked, my voice quieter but no less urgent.

Dannie leaned against the counter, arms crossed.

“How could I not know?” His jaw tightened. “I’ve been looking for Mackie. And thanks to him, I found you.”

I froze. Mackie. Or Mackie D—that’s what Dannie always called him. My breath hitched.

“You mean… you didn’t send him?”

Dannie’s eyes darked. “Send him to you? No. Why would I?”

I paused, trying to collect my thoughts.

“I thought you…” I stopped myself. I couldn’t bring up the past—not now. I thought he finally wanted revenge for what I did to him, but it was best to leave that wound closed. “Never mind. So… you had me followed?”

His answer was enough to ease one fear—that he had nothing to do with Kai’s disappearance.

“No…” He cut the log-shaped dough into even round disks, placing them carefully onto a baking tray lined with parchment paper. “Yes. When my guy spotted you, I told them to keep an eye on you.”

I watched his hands—steady, precise—as he lined each disk in perfect rows before sliding the tray into the oven underneath the countertop.

My stomach twisted. How could I not have known? All day people had been following me. Stalking me. Watching my every move. And not just one person—multiple people—with their own motives, their own agendas.