Page 68 of Billionaire’s Cruelty

“That good, huh?” I asked, watching her reaction.

She bobbled her head enthusiastically. “Do you have any siblings?”

“Yes.”

“Are you close?”

“No.”

“Oh.”

I realized too late that my bluntness had killed the conversation. Worse still, it reminded me how much Dannie and I had in common. For one, we both wanted the same woman. And neither of us was close to our siblings.

I hadn’t even known about my half-brother until I was a young adult—a revelation delivered through a phone call with my mother, her voice raw with rage. He was someone born to steal everything I had, to replace me before I even knew he existed.

Growing up, I had wanted a brother to play with. Jenny had no interest in the kind of games I wanted to play. Once, she forced me to participate in her make-believe fashion show. She dressed me in her homemade designs, which involved adding bright colors to her mother’s pristine, ten-thousand-thread-count Egyptian sheets. We both earned a spanking from our mothers that night. After that, I never played dress-up with her again.

“So, you didn’t have anyone to play with growing up?” Laura asked, her voice soft with curiosity.

“I did, briefly.”

“A cousin? A friend?”

“A friend,” I admitted, thinking of the one I had before my kidnapping.

She moved on to the butter-colored slice of cake and offered another comment. “Vanilla. Such a classic.”

“How about you?” I asked, sensing the conversation drifting toward an awkward silence. She had made an effort to keep me company—the least I could do was return the gesture and pretend to care about her seemingly perfect life.

“I don’t have friends,” she said bluntly.

“Really?” I should have left it there, but the words slipped out. “For a nice girl like you? I find that hard to believe.”

Her face softened. “You think I’m nice?”

Did I? We had only just met. I didn’t know why she had chosen to sit with me, why she was filling the air with pointless conversation. Maybe Dannie sent her to fish for information, but if that was the case, she was terrible at her job.

Sometimes, you could just sense things about people. Laura seemed a little lost in life.

Dannie on the other hand, was one of those unreadable types, the kind you could never quite figure out.

“Yes,” I finally said, giving her the answer she wanted to hear.

“I guess you’re right,” she murmured, setting down her fork and leaving the last piece of cake untouched. “Everyone thinks I’m nice. All my so-called friends. They use me to get places, pay for things, scare off guys who bother them.”

“I understand,” I said quietly.

Her eyes searched my face, as if trying to determine if I truly meant it. “You do?”

“Yes.”

The young woman studied me a moment longer before leaning back in her chair. “How do you get rid of people like that?”

“Learn to say no.”

“Nonononono,” she said quickly, dragging out the word. “Like this?”

“Not quite. You need to say it like you mean it.”