Page 64 of Billionaire’s Heartbreak

“I think this is takeaway only,” Kai said.

He stood across from me, looking around the tiny shop as though he’d only just realised we’d brought an entire security operation to a place barely large enough for four customers.

I smiled. “Sit.”

He hesitated, then pulled out the chair and sat opposite me. Dave remained standing behind him, watching the entrance. For the first time that morning, I felt almost normal.

“Do you want a seat?” I offered Dave.

His lips pressed together in his version of a smile. Before he could answer, Kai tapped the empty stool beside us. “Sit.”

Dave lowered himself onto it.

I turned toward the woman behind the counter. “Can we have a dozen egg tarts, please?”

The older woman looked at me, really looked, as though trying to place me, then nodded. “Fresh batch just came out.”

“Perfect.” I glanced toward the display case. “Oh—are those pineapple buns?”

“Yes. Fresh from the oven. They go quickly.”

“I’ll take a dozen of those too.”

Kai let out a quiet, disbelieving breath. “How many stomachs do you have?”

“We’ve got time.” I smiled. “And we can share.”

He shifted on the wooden stool, looking completely out of place. The shop wasn’t built for people like Kai. It was too small, too exposed, too ordinary. No private rooms or discreet entrances. Just wooden stools, a tiny counter, and a glass display case filled with pastries.

Normal.

Almost painfully normal.

I sat very still, partly because I was tired and partly because I wasn’t sure the fragile-looking stool could handle much movement. Staying still had always been part of my job anyway. No one wanted a surgeon with shaky hands or an unfocused mind.

Kai, meanwhile, couldn’t stop scanning the shop. His eyes moved between the entrance, windows, counter, and narrow passage to the back. Occasionally, he pointed at one of the faded posters and exchanged a few words with Dave in Mandarin.

For once, I didn’t want to think about business, Dannie, Roger, or Laura. I just wanted to eat something that reminded me of when life had been simpler.

The woman returned with a large plastic bag filled with neatly stacked boxes and placed it on the counter. Her eyes lingered on me before she disappeared through the narrow opening at the back, leaving the old man behind the counter quietly watching us.

“How much?” I asked.

“I’ve got it,” Kai said.

I ignored him and handed the old man some cash. He hesitated before taking it, then counted the change slowly. Maybe he was simply old. Or maybe he was buying time. I couldn’t tell.

“Thank you.”

I carried the boxes back to the table and opened one. “Tuck in.”

Kai looked at me. “Here?”

“Yes. Where else?”

He glanced around the tiny shop, then picked up an egg tart and studied it. The pastry was still warm, the custard trembling slightly in the centre. He took a cautious bite, and his eyes widened before his shoulders relaxed.

“Huh.”