Page 6 of Billionaire’s Cruelty

“Wait, wait!” He raised his hands higher in response to my movement, panic flashing across his face. “She said if you didn’t believe me, to say something about that show you used to watch. Uh… Dirty Little Liar!”

Pretty Little Liars.

“Close enough,” I muttered.

I dropped the crowbar, relieved that he wasn’t a serial killer, though a little disappointed that he had no connection to Kai.

Inside Wendy’s, the cashier took our orders. When she returned, she handed me a brown paper bag. Inside I saw some cash, a change of clothes, and an old-fashioned flip phone.

“Please, close your mouth, people will stare,” Raj commented, smirking. “You can trust us, here. We’ll eat something now, grab a few things for the road, and you should change before we head out.”

The remaining journey to Myrtle Beach was surprisingly pleasant. I learned that Raj was my friend Wendy’s cousin, and when he wasn’t following runaway women, he helped his parents run a laundromat in New York. He’d been tailing me ever since Chloe found out about Mack from Wendy—because, apparently, Wendy couldn’t keep a secret from Chloe.

Knowing I’d been followed by both Kai’s and Chloe’s people over the last few days was weird. My privacy had been violated from every angle. But without them, I’d probably be knee-deep in a thousand different kinds of trouble.

2

Kai

Whoever did this to us will pay.

This had to be an inside job.

I’d doubled the security for Jenny, terrified her husband might find her. The extra team that I hired came with glowing reviews and high-level recommendations—from politicians, mayors, senators, and even unnamed foreign dignitaries. When they dropped their most impressive reference—a former President of the United States—they were outraged to discover I had no clue which one they were talking about. Well, sue me for not memorizing every single U.S. President.

For all I knew, the entire thing could’ve been fake. These days, it wasn’t hard to fabricate anything. There were professionals who wrote glowing reviews in exchange for cash—and others who specialized in writing scathing ones to ruin their competitors. Trust no one—especially not on the Internet.

Even people could be fake.

Asian social media had been buzzing with rumors that Catherine, Princess of Wales was dead and had been quietly replaced by a doppelganger. Something about the prince’s obsession with a new mistress and his eagerness to be rid of his wife. Could it be true? Who knows. But if they could fake a royal, they could fake anything.

“Can I get you any tea or coffee?” Jessica, the flight attendant, leaned in closer to my seat, batting her thick black lashes. Fake. Nobody on the planet came with eyelashes as thick as rabbit fur. Her platinum blond hair, with visible tracks, was also fake. I wondered what else about her wasn’t real.

“Just water,” I answered.

Jessica was trying to be helpful—trying to make the flight easier and distract me from the mess I was in. She’d said as much the second I stepped on the plane. I wouldn’t say we had history, but we’d definitely had our share of good times. That was over now. Right now, I needed to focus.

Because the only woman I wanted was stuck in a hospital.

Dr. June Bennet—the world’s greatest fertility doctor, according to every magazines and medical journal that mattered. She was busy fixing someone’s life, making their dreams of having a family come true, maybe even saving their marriage. Meanwhile, I was here—failing to protect that people I cared about.

When she finished her procedure, she’d find the note I left on the desk. A promise—I’ll be back soon.

I should’ve texted her. Something simple. “I’m okay. Don’t worry.” But every time I tried, my finger froze. She’d ask questions that I didn’t want to answer. I couldn’t lie to her. And call me a coward, but I didn’t want her to worry—not about me, not about Jenny, not about Lucy.

“Sir, do you want the whole team at the airport when we land?” Clare’s voice cut through my thoughts, softer than her usual tone. She’d been apologizing repeatedly since Jenny and Lucy were taken. If I hadn’t told her to shut up, she would probably still be apologizing. I’d deal with her later—right now, I needed her focused. I’d already left Dave behind to keep watch over June.

“I don’t want the whole team. Just the Range Rover.”

“Are you sure?” As always, she questioned my orders.

“Yes.”

A beat of silence. Then, carefully, she asked her next question. “What is your plan? If I may ask.”

I tilted my cream leather recliner back, my gaze fixed on my own hand. I couldn’t bear to look at her, couldn’t stand to.

“What could you possibly do with that information, huh?” My voice came out low, cold—venom laced through every word.