Page 48 of Billionaire’s Cruelty

“Mama wouldn’t drink it.”

A rapid exchange followed in Cantonese between Dannie and his grandmother, their words fluid and intense. Eventually, Laura slipped away to fetch the tea Dannie preferred while the rest of us sat in awkward silence.

Dannie resumed translating as his grandmother’s attention shifted to Wendy. She seemed unusually curious about her, her questions thoughtful but persistent. Then, to our surprise, she addressed Wendy in a few words of Hindi.

Wendy’s face lit up in recognition. She replied in kind before switching back to English.

“My parents didn’t teach me much Hindi,” she admitted, her voice tinged with regret. “But I’m curious—how did you learn?”

Dannie stepped in to explain. “Grandma used to work for a British company with extensive trade ties to India.”

“Wait—does that mean you speak English?” I asked, realizing too late that my tone sounded more like an interrogation. I softened my voice. “Sorry, I mean… you must’ve picked up some English, right?”

“Of course.” Her smile deepened as she answered, her English accent crisp and refined—reminiscent of the voices in old black-and-white British films. “I just like to hear my grandson speaking in English.”

“Oh my, your accent is so wonderful. Nobody speaks like this anymore.” My admiration was genuine, and she acknowledged it with a graceful nod.

Both Laura and Dannie spoke fluent English, but their accents were a curious blend of British precision and American casualness. It would be hard to place their nationality by voice alone, but it was clear they had attended an English-speaking school.

Out of nowhere, Grandma Wu gave a deliberate, unmistakable cough—the kind designed to draw attention. The room fell silent. Five long, charged seconds passed.

Then she spoke, her words cutting through the air. “When are you two going to have a baby?”

10

June

Kai’s grandma stared straight into my soul. Her gaze was stern, intense, and unwavering. There was no doubt the question was directed at me, as if having children was solely my responsibility. In my experience, I had met single women who wanted children without any partners interfering, but even they needed help from medical professionals.

A sudden shout from far away rescued me from the awkwardness. If she stared at me any longer, I was sure my soul would be sucked out of my body. Still, her message was clear: she expected me to stick around and provide her with grandchildren.

The two thugs who had been waiting outside the grocery store stormed in. One of them tripped over the centerpiece of an antique-looking table, nearly knocking over an equally old yellow-and-green oriental-style vase.

“Mou lai mao, chow dun ba bai,” Grandma said in Cantonese, this time directing her words at Dannie. I couldn’t understand why she wouldn’t speak English to him now that both Wendy and I knew she was fluent.

The two men shrank under her glare, hurriedly bowing their heads in apology. Dannie gestured for the one called Tiger to come closer. Tiger leaned in and whispered something into his ear.

Grandma replied in Cantonese, her voice sharp with irritation.

I couldn’t make out what Tiger was saying, but I was impressed that Grandma could. Even if I had heard the words clearly, I wouldn’t have understood most of them. They were speaking too fast and exclusively in Cantonese. Maybe it was easier for them to communicate in their native tongue—or maybe they didn’t want their foreign guests to understand the conversation.

Either way, it was obvious that whatever had happened was a problem for Dannie, and it had angered his grandma.

“I think we should get going,” I said, seizing the opportunity to escape the tense atmosphere. Wendy had been trying to tell me something earlier, and I hoped it was news about Kai. Good or bad, I needed to know.

“No, you stay,” Grandma commanded, her voice loud, cutting through the room like a blade.

“Alright,” I muttered, sinking back into my seat.

She continued speaking in rapid Cantonese. Dannie simply sat there, letting her take the lead. I wondered if all Asian grandmothers wielded this kind of power over their families. My mother certainly did. Whenever she was around, she dominated the room, dictating how people should behave, think and even breathe. Once, she told my dad’s new wife to shut her mouth and stop breathing through it.

Laura intervened, offering to show us around the house. I jumped at the chance. Wendy, however, hesitated, clearly curious to see how the confrontation would unfold. I had to step on her toes to get her moving.

“What was going on?” I asked as we climbed the stairs, finally out of sight.

“Oh, you don’t understand Cantonese?” Laura tilted her head.

“No.” I admitted.