Page 49 of Billionaire’s Cruelty

“Neither do I,” Wendy chimed in, suddenly pushing her face uncomfortably close to Laura. “What were they saying?”

“Wendy,” I hissed, shooting her a warning glare. She could hear Laura just fine without invading her personal space.

Laura chuckled softly. “When you said you wanted to leave, I thought you understood at least some of it.”

“No. My mother knows a bit of Cantonese, but she never bothered to teach me.”

Laura pushed open a set of ornate double doors. “This is where Lord Whiteshire used to host his tea parties. Well, technically, his wife did.”

The room was grand and stately, bathed in the soft glow of sunlight streaming through large windows framed by heavy, floor-to-ceiling navy blue curtains. The walls were adorned with a wallpaper veined with gold, in a slightly darker shade of navy blue. In the center of the ceiling hung an opulent chandelier, its crystals sparkling like captured stars. Three elegant couches formed a seating area: a three-seater in the middle and two smaller ones on either side.

“Are the furnishings from the Victorian era?” I asked, more to keep Laura talking than out of genuine curiosity. In my experience, people tended to reveal more when they were in the mood to chat.

“God, no,” she laughed. “These are new. The old ones were ancient, and Grandma was convinced someone died on one of them.”

“Really?” I forced out a chuckle, hoping to keep her talking.

“Yeah. I was too young to remember moving into this house, but that stuck with me. For me, it was kind of hilarious, you know?”

“How so?”

She grinned. “I always thought old people weren’t supposed to be scared of ghosts.”

“Oh, I thought it was the opposite. What I heard was that young children aren’t afraid of ghosts.”

“Yeah, that’s because they don’t know what ghosts are,” she swallowed hard, “until they realize what they are.”

“You sound like you have experience with this. Care to share?”

“Gosh, why are you guys always talking about ghosts? First haunted buildings, now haunted furniture. Can we please steer away from that topic? I’m not a big fan of this weird culture of yours.” Wendy circled her index finger at us, her head followed the direction of the twirl.

A soft knock on the double wooden doors made all our heads turn. Laura nodded to a middle-aged woman in a white polo shirt and black pants holding a tray of tea. She was accompanied by four other people—two men and two women—dressed similarly, though their polo shirts were light gray.

“Thank you, Ling Jie.”.

Ling Jie smiled kindly at the acknowledgment, and her team quickly got to work. Within a minute, the coffee tables were filled with beautiful miniature cakes, biscuits, scones, and delicate finger sandwiches.

“Grandma must have decided to move the tea party up here,” Laura mused.

We heard raised voices coming from downstairs. The tension in the air thickened.

“What’s really going on?” I pressed, leaning in closer. “You can tell me. Dannie and I don’t have secrets.”

I knew that wasn’t entirely true. But Dannie had never lied to me, at least, not directly.

“Okay. So, when Dad died,” she blinked twice, “I mean, when Dannie’s dad died, he took over.”

“Yes, I knew that.” I reached for her hands, squeezing them gently. “I’m sure he would be proud to have you as his daughter.”

“Thanks. It’s just that…” She looked up at me, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, “Dannie… well, only Grandma ever acknowledges my existence in this family.”

“Dannie is just an emotionally unavailable asshole, isn’t he?”

Laura giggled softly. “You’re funny. I like you a lot.”

“Thank you. Now, you were saying…” My curiosity gnawed at me, and I needed to find out more.

“Yeah, you were saying…” Wendy chimed in, just as eager.