Page 69 of Billionaire’s Cruelty

“No!” she said louder this time, her voice ringing with more conviction.

“Like it would cost you an arm.”

“NO!” Her voice echoed through the room, drawing a few curious glances. She clapped a hand over her mouth, her cheeks turning the shade of a ripe tomato.

“That’s more like it,” I said, unable to suppress a small smile.

“That was kind of fun,” she giggled, her laughter light and musical. “What about your family? Have you ever said no to them?”

She picked up her fork again and finished off the last bite of cake.

“Depends on who we’re talking about,” I admitted. I had always let my mother walk all over me, too afraid to break her heart after my father left.

I angled my head slightly, trying to get a better view of what June was up to. But there was no sign of her—I suspected the old lady hadn’t finished showing her off to her peers.

“I couldn’t say no to my family,” I said quietly.

“Don’t feel bad about that. I’m guessing half of the people in this world have the same issue,” she replied. “Except, I’m actually an orphan. My family… they aren’t my real family.”

I wasn’t expecting that. She must have had quite a bit to drink tonight to open up to me like that.

“Can I share something with you?” I asked, lowering my voice.

“What?” She leaned closer, her eyes glinting with curiosity. “You can tell me.”

“My father abandoned us for a different family.”

Her face softened. “Oh no, I’m sorry.”

These days, it wasn’t much of a secret. He had been seen in public with his mistress and their son, as if we had never existed.

“Are they nice to you? Your adopted family?” I asked, steering the conversation back to her.

“Grandmother is nice. And Dannie? Oh well, he’s just cold. I guess with our age gap, we never really had much in common to talk about.”

“There are two sides to a coin. Is one side better than the other?” It was something clever I had read in a Zen book once, though I couldn’t quite remember how the rest of it went.

Her posture straightened slightly, anticipation flickering across her face as she waited for me to elaborate. I searched my mind, but nothing else came.

“Maybe. Maybe not,” she said finally, her tone thoughtful.

“If only the world were as clear as black and white,” I murmured, letting my words trail off, aware that I had once again failed to sound profound.

She was young, with her whole life ahead of her. Whatever wisdom I thought I had couldn’t possibly prepare her for the road she needed to walk herself. Our lives were too different. I couldn’t live hers, and she couldn’t live mine. What worked for me might not work for her.

“You’ll figure it out in your own time,” I added softly.

“Persimmon.”

I blinked, frowning at her sudden declaration. “What?”

She pointed at her mouth. “The last cake. It’s persimmon.”

“Right. The cake.”

“Never would have guessed. I thought it might be orange or peach, judging by the color. Isn’t life just full of surprises?” She smiled to herself, as if the realization had unlocked something deeper.

I nodded, even though I knew she wasn’t really asking for my opinion. She had just experienced a lightbulb moment.