Page 65 of Billionaire’s Heartbreak

His surprised expression made me smile. “Good?”

He nodded. “Very.”

For a second, I saw something familiar in his eyes—the old Kai, the one who used to tease me and didn’t take himself so seriously. He reached for another, and I picked up one for myself. The crust was warm and flaky, the custard smooth and sweet.

“Oh my God.”

Kai glanced at me. “What?”

“Nothing.” I took another bite. “This is really good.”

“You’ve already told me that.”

“I know.”

“Then why are you telling me again?”

“Because it’s still true.”

The corner of his mouth lifted, barely, but I saw it. For one stupid second, I almost smiled back the way I used to.

I missed this. Sitting across from him without analysing every word or wondering whether I could trust him. Just Kai. Just me. Egg tarts between us. A tiny shop in an old part of Hong Kong.

I started talking—small things, pointless things, anything to fill the silence and make us look like two ordinary people having breakfast instead of two people sitting in the middle of a potential war.

“Have you ever been to a shop like this?”

“Not here in Hong Kong.” Kai picked up another egg tart. “There was this old noodle place in Shanghai we used to go to.”

“We?”

“Me and Dave.” Dave nodded from behind him.

“It was tiny,” Kai continued. “Probably smaller than this place.”

“What happened to it?”

“The owner retired. And his son didn’t want to take over,” Kai shrugged. “Apparently he’d rather work in an office.”

“Smart man.”

Kai looked at me. “Why?”

“Because running a noodle shop sounds exhausting.”

“More exhausting than your job?”

“Exactly. I already made one questionable career choice.”

He laughed quietly, and the sound was so normal that something inside my chest tightened. I hadn’t realised how much I missed making him laugh. I swallowed another bite and pretended to concentrate on the egg tart, but inside, I was counting, watching, waiting. I didn’t know exactly what I was waiting for—the right moment, the right opportunity, something that would tell me I still had control over what happened next.

Kai kept talking, but his eyes kept drifting toward me. He wasn’t really listening anymore. He was watching me, probably wondering why I was suddenly being so pleasant.

I wondered the same thing. Then I felt it.

A shift. Subtle. Almost nothing, but my body noticed before my mind did. I stopped chewing and lifted my eyes.

Across the street, a man stood near the corner. He wasn’t doing anything, and that was the problem. He wasn’t on his phone or waiting for a taxi. He was simply watching us.