Page 17 of Billionaire’s Ruin

The moment I said it, a chill ran down my spine. My nerves didn’t like that topic. My head screamed change the subject, but my mouth stayed open.

“It wasn’t always like this, though,” Dannie said quietly.

“What was it like?” The words slipped out before I could stop them.

“I used to play, you know? Like other kids. My parents wanted me to have a normal life. We even moved to Shanghai, where nobody knew us. Away from… the triad scene.”

“You lived in Shanghai?” My voice rose before I could stop it. I already knew, deep down. I’d seen pieces of that truth before, but never wanted to look at them too closely. Anything that reminded me of Kai, I avoided like a wound that never healed.

“Yes,” he said.

“Did you go to school there?”

He nodded. “One of the best international schools. Everyone was nice—my teachers, my friends. Nobody knew about me, or what my family did.”

A faint smile curved his lips, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

I understood more than I wanted to. As a teenager, I used to dread people finding out who my brothers were. The girls were obsessed—always asking about them, pretending to be my friends just to get closer. I never knew who to trust. That’s why Chloe was my best friend—my only true friend.

We’d known each other since we were toddlers. Sure, she’d had a crush on one of my brothers and ended up with another, but back then, I had no reason to doubt her friendship.

“I think I kind of get it,” I said softly.

“It was one of the happiest times of my life,” he said, voice low but clear over the hum of the late afternoon traffic. “Apart from the time when we were together.”

I glanced sideways. He wasn’t smiling. He didn’t have to—his eyes said everything. That familiar weight of his gaze pressed against my skin like sunlight too close, too intimate. I looked away, pretending to study the intricate colonial windows of a nearby shophouse, their peeling turquoise paint fading into years of heat and history.

“Why did you move back to Hong Kong?” I asked, trying to sound casual.

His voice thinned. “My family didn’t think we should stay after my kidnapping.”

I stopped walking. “Shit,” I whispered—just before it became literal. My sandal slid on something slick, and my balance wavered backward.

Strong hands caught me around the waist, pulling me upright. “Fuck, what was that?” Dannie grunted, steadying me as I flailed.

I blinked down—and groaned.

“Oh my God.”

It was exactly what I feared. Wet, gooey, fresh-from-the-street dog shit, glistening under the tropical sun like a bad omen wrapped in humidity.

“Thanks for the save,” I muttered, forcing a laugh as mortification flooded my cheeks. Relief and disgust fought for dominance on my face.

“I’m glad you didn’t fall,” he said, still holding onto me a beat longer than necessary.

“Yeah. Because landing in that pile would’ve been the highlight of my trip.”

A low, easy sound slipped from him, the kind of chuckle that always made me forget where I was. The kind of laugh that gave away more than words ever could.

The smell, however, was less poetic.

“That dog has a sense of humor,” I mumbled, shaking my foot uselessly in the air. “Probably mocking me for dating men who’ve been kidnapped. Maybe it’s karma.”

He raised a brow. “Karma?”

“Yeah. Lincoln was kidnapped a few years back and somehow ended up with the love of his life. You and Kai were taken before him. Maybe it’s like—” I waved vaguely at the offending pile, “—the universe’s way of telling me I have a type.”

“Men with traumatic backstories?”