Page 128 of Billionaire’s Ruin

Almost a promise.

But she didn’t say no.

And for the first time in days, maybe in weeks, the world didn’t feel like it was collapsing.

For now… that was enough.

20

Kai

I picked June up from the hotel where she’d been staying.

After everything that had happened, she needed her own space—real space.

Not even Lincoln was allowed to stay in the same hotel, which said a lot.

It took me nearly two hours to get ready.

Partly because I hadn’t slept properly since waking from the drug haze, and partly I didn’t know what the hell to do with myself anymore. My muscles still shook sometimes, my appetite came and went, and every now and then the world tilted a little to the left. But none of that mattered.

She’d agreed to one last date.

I’d been stunned when she said yes.

Even more stunned when she said there was one condition: Dannie had to approve.

They weren’t together, not officially, not really. But after everything he’d done for us—saving me, protecting her—she said he deserved to know.

Deserved respect.

I couldn’t argue with that.

When I saw her in the lobby, something in me cinched tight in a way that was becoming far too familiar.

She wore a plain white T-shirt and skinny jeans—clothing so simple it almost startled me. Among the tourists and business travelers, she stood out not because she tried, but because she didn’t. No heavy makeup. No jewelry. No attempt at glamor.

Only her.

Effortless.

Real.

The version of her I liked most.

“You look gorgeous,” I said, a grin tugging at my mouth without my permission—something that hadn’t stopped since Dannie gave his blessing. Somehow, that man’s approval made breathing easier again.

“This?” she scoffed, glancing down at herself. “You must be crazy.” Then her gaze drifted over me, warming. “But you… you seem better. Healthier.”

The truth was, my body was still trying to remember how to be a body. Food tasted strange. My stomach rejected anything heavy. Sleep came in shallow snatches. But I’d managed to put back maybe twenty percent of the weight I’d lost. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to fool the mirror for a few seconds.

“Next step—muscle.” I flexed my arm jokingly. “Thinking of getting back into the gym.”

A small, knowing curve touched her mouth. “Just don’t push yourself too fast. You’ve been through enough.”

We drove east, letting the ferocious heartbeat of downtown Shanghai fade into something calmer. Buildings shrank. Streets widened. The city’s roar melted into something quieter, older—the soft rumble of scooters, laundry hanging from balconies, old ladies selling vegetables by the roadside.

The farther we drove, the more the knot inside me unwound.