Page 91 of Billionaire’s Heartbreak

For the first time in what felt like forever, there was nothing between us except the warmth of her body and the quiet rhythm of our breathing. We kissed like teenagers who had discovered something wonderful and had no idea what to do with it.

Eventually, we pulled apart, both breathing harder than we should have been.

Then she laughed. I laughed with her.

For a brief moment, everything felt easy. And that scared me. Because reality would catch up with us. She might wake up tomorrow and regret every second of this.

I looked away, then something caught my eye.

The punching bag.

More specifically, the small symbol painted on its side: a letter V, sandwiched between two horizontal lines, with the bottom line slightly longer than the one above it. I stared at it for a moment, then laughed.

“There is no treasure here.”

June blinked. “What?”

I pushed myself away from her. “You know that old Chinese saying? There are no three hundred taels of silver buried here.”

She shook her head. “No idea.”

“It’s about someone who hides his treasure so badly that he leaves a sign saying there is no treasure there.”

She stared at me. “And?”

I looked back at the symbol. “Oh my God.” I grabbed her by the waist and lifted her off the floor.

“Kai!”

I swung her around once before setting her down. “That symbol.” I pointed toward the punching bag. “I made it when I was a kid.”

She frowned. “For what?”

“To mark places where I’d hidden things.”

“Hidden things?”

“My treasures, and I only ever told that to Dannie.”

“Wait.”

I was already moving. I reached the punching bag and ran my fingers over the painted symbol. Then I pushed it. Nothing. I punched the bag. Still nothing.

I stepped back and studied the room—the bag, the floor, the walls. Then my eyes travelled upward.

The ceiling.

My heart jumped.

“Up.”

June looked at me. “Up?”

“Up.”

I grabbed the punching bag and pulled it toward me. Something shifted above us.

“Did you feel that?”