Page 92 of Billionaire’s Heartbreak

June’s eyes widened. “You felt it too?”

I pulled again, and my injured back protested immediately.

“Fuck.”

June grabbed my arm. “Be careful.”

“I am being careful.”

“You’re hanging off a punching bag with a wound that has forty-seven stitches.”

“Technically, you stitched forty-seven stitches.”

“That doesn’t make it better.”

I ignored her and pulled again. Something clicked overhead. Then a section of the ceiling moved. A panel slid aside, and a ladder dropped with a heavy metallic clatter.

For a second, neither of us breathed. Then June stared upward.

“We found it.” Her voice was barely a whisper.

The space above the ceiling wasn’t large, but it was packed with boxes, cases, weapons, ammunition, medical supplies, and emergency equipment. Everything Dannie might have needed if the world outside suddenly turned against him.

Tears filled my eyes before I could stop them. June buried her face against my chest.

“We’re getting out,” she whispered.

“Yeah.” I kissed the top of her head. “We’re getting out.”

We stayed like that for another moment before reality returned. Weapons wouldn’t help if we chose the wrong ones. We couldn’t carry everything. We needed to be fast, quiet, and efficient.

We started sorting. Anything too heavy stayed behind. We chose weapons and ammunition, medical supplies, torches, communication equipment, and anything else that might help us survive the journey out.

The hours disappeared. We didn’t realise how long we’d been at it until our stomachs started complaining.

By then, we were both hungry.

We had dinner in the kitchen. June made ramen with beef strips and canned vegetables from the emergency pantry. It wasn’t exactly gourmet, but after millet porridge and three days of barely eating, it tasted better than anything I’d had in months.

“Not bad,” I said.

June looked at me suspiciously. “That sounded like a compliment.”

“It was.”

Neither of us talked much after that. We both knew what tomorrow meant.

The keypad was waiting for us.

Six digits. Three chances. And whatever was waiting on the other side of that door.

June had suggested waiting another few days. Let me recover. Get stronger. Prepare more.

Part of me knew she was right. But another part of me knew we couldn’t stay here forever. Eventually, someone would find us. And every extra day gave them another opportunity to prepare.

I looked across the table at June. She was barely eating.

Tomorrow, we’d find out whether Dannie’s security system would let us leave—or whether we’d have to find another way. Either way, we were leaving this place.