Page 20 of Billionaire’s Ruin

“Dannie-ko, long time no see.” The man turned to his side and mumbled something. Only then did I realize he wasn’t alone—three other people stood beside him.

“Knee go high…” he said.

“Pardon?” I blinked, trying not to sound rude, my gaze fixed on him. He was looking at me—but not really looking at me. His eyes darted just past mine, avoiding direct contact.

“Gai ah sou,” Dannie replied.

Then the man’s gaze finally met mine. He nodded once. “Ah sou.”

I recognized that word immediately. They’d called me that at our fake wedding and Dannie’s grandmother’s party. It was a term of respect, one that meant wife.

“June,” I said quickly, offering my hand for a shake. “Just call me June.”

“Or Dr. Bennet,” Dannie added with a smirk, catching the irritation I tried to hide. “Beng here is a good friend of mine. He looks after me every time I’m in Malaysia.”

I wanted to correct him—we weren’t in Hong Kong anymore; there was no reason to keep pretending we were married. Unless… Beng was connected to the triad. And word could travel fast.

Beng stepped inside and handed me the two large bags, bowing slightly. But as soon as I took them, I felt something move.

I dropped the bags instantly. A sharp, involuntary scream ripped out of me—so loud it startled even myself. Eyes squeezed shut, I started hopping on my toes, unable to stop the wild instinct that something might crawl onto me if I stood still.

Dannie wrapped his arms around me from behind, his voice soft and teasing as he made pew pew sounds in my ear.

“It’s okay, Doc. Just some crabs. Beng brings them every time I visit.”

“What?” I blinked up at him, heart still hammering.

“Crabs,” he repeated, fighting a smile. “It’s just some crabs.”

“Okay…” I peeked one eye open, hesitating before daring the other. Beng had already scooped up the bags and was waving them in the air as he disappeared toward the kitchen. “They’re alive?”

“Yes,” Dannie chuckled. “Beng’s going to cook them for us. I forgot to tell you we had a guest today. I passed out right after messaging him.”

I wiggled out of Dannie’s arms, heat rushing to my cheeks as the realization of my overreaction hit.

“Great. So he probably thinks I’m some hysterical foreigner.”

Dannie shrugged, grinning. “It’s okay. Beng’s seen worse.”

“Did he expect me to cook? Why did he hand me the bags?”

“Tsk.” Dannie clicked his tongue, that familiar mock-serious look spreading across his face. “You’re not gonna like this.”

“What won’t I like?”

“Well…” He scratched his jaw, pretending to weigh his words. “Beng’s pretty traditional. A lot of Asian guys are, especially around here. They assume the lady of the house runs the kitchen. It’s… instinct. He probably thought you’d want to check what’s inside—or maybe even cook it yourself.”

I stared at him. “You’re actually not making that up?”

He grinned wider. “Nope. It’s a thing. But you should’ve seen your face earlier, though.”

“What? Stop it!” I nudged him, a reluctant giggle escaping despite myself. “It’s so embarrassing.”

“Adorable, actually.”

I hid my face with the backs of my hands, trying to cool my cheeks that were now as hot as the tropical evening air. Our laughter tangled together, the tension dissolving into something light and warm.

“I can cook a little,” I admitted, lowering my hands, “but handling live seafood? That’s… out of my league.”