The Billionaire and the Runaway Bride by Nadia Lee

Chapter Forty-Four

Declan

I feel terrible about Chantel’s accident, but at the same time, it keeps me from stewing over Lady Min’s proposal.

Actually, that isn’t entirely true. It’s on my mind. I don’t know what kind of parents go this far to break up their children’s relationships. Yuna’s too old for this sort of manipulation.

Just look at her, I think as she walks inside the next morning, her bodyguard/chauffeur and assistant following. She’s in a bright pink dress and shoes with tall, skinny heels. All grown up, confident and in control.

“Good morning.” She smiles, while her people settle down on their usual couch in the living room.

“Good morning.”

Should I tell her about what her mother tried to do?

Lady Min didn’t ask me to keep it quiet, but what she wants wouldn’t be my top concern anyway. The problem is, telling Yuna about my dinner might cause her some pain. Yuna’s sensitive about how her family paid at least one ex-boyfriend off, and I don’t want to upset her for no reason. There’s no way Lady Min can do anything to make me not want to be with Yuna, so why bring it up? I’m not holding what her mom did against her, because—unlike Lady Min—I’m broad-minded like that.

Mr. Choi is looking at me like I’ve committed treason. He definitely heard from Yuna’s mom, and he doesn’t approve. Why else would he look so unhappy?

And same for Ms. Kim, who’s doing a better job of hiding it. Somebody should tell her if she purses her mouth, it makes her look a little bit like a puffer fish.

After breakfast and coffee, Yuna pulls out her personal phone and checks her messages. The sight reminds me of the call I had with Chantel.

“Yuna, can you call my accountant and have him send thirty K to Chantel?”

Yuna jerks her head up. “You want your accountant to send how much?”

“Thirty thousand. Dollars.”

Her eyebrows pull together. “For Ella’s wedding?”

“Oh, hell no. No. Chantel got into a car accident, and she needs some money to get a new car.”

“That’s what insurance is for.” Her voice is stiff.

That sounds…unusually cold. But then, Yuna’s only interaction with my family is Ella, which was a total shit show. Plus, Yuna’s family is probably insured up to their eyeballs. “First, Ella’s the bad one in the family, not Chantel. And the insurance payout won’t be enough for her to get a new car. Depreciation and all that.”

“Did the insurance company call you?”

“No. She did.” The way she’s interrogating me is weird. What’s going on in that pretty head?

She sighs, her face tight. “I was wondering how I was going to bring this up, but…” She pulls her lips in, like she’s about to confess to having toilet paper trailing out of her underwear at a party.

“Bring what up?” I prompt her when she’s quiet for too long.

“Declan, Chantel isn’t a good person. Ella and Chantel are both awful.”

Although part of me believes that Yuna will have a good reason for saying that, my defenses go up. Chantel is the only person who ever helped me without expecting anything in return. She’s always uncomfortable when I give her gifts.

“How can you say that?” I work hard to keep my tone even. “You’ve never met Chantel.”

“Actually, I have.” She taps on her phone. “Listen.”

I do. And hear two voices, unmistakably Chantel’s and Ella’s. As the recording plays, my stomach starts to feel like it’s sloshing with acid. I grip my phone until I think I can hear it creak under the pressure.

The worst isn’t what Ella’s saying. I expect her to be hateful. But Chantel… It feels like the ground is shifting under me, and I feel sick.

“How did you get this? When?”

Yuna looks uncomfortable as she clears her throat. “Last Sunday. After a facial with Mom, they showed up at the spa. They were talking, and I happened to record it.”

“Why didn’t you say something?”

I spoke so nicely to Chantel last night. Like a stupid dumbass. How she must’ve laughed after the call. Bitch!

I want to direct my ire at Yuna, even though my rational side knows she isn’t at fault. She didn’t make Chantel and Ella say what they said. And if it weren’t for Yuna, I’d still be in the dark. And Chantel would be thirty thousand dollars richer.

But my emotions seethe like a stormy ocean. I need to control myself before I say or do something stupid, like taking this out on Yuna.

She peers up at me with a searching expression, like a puppy who isn’t sure if she did something wrong or not. And that helps me tighten the reins on my feelings.

“I didn’t know how to tell you,” she says finally. “I’m just shocked that she decided to contact you after I made the recording.”

“Why? She didn’t know I might know.”

Yuna sighs. “Actually, she probably suspected. I told Ella off. She acted like she didn’t know who I was for sure, but she must have recalled later. She can’t be that dumb.”

“Oh, you’d be surprised.” I drag in air, then let out a long sigh. The shock from hearing the recording is turning into a resolve never to get fucked over again. “Thanks for letting me know. And let me take care of Chantel,” I say, doing my best to sound gentle. “Can you send me the recording?”

“Sure.”

She sends me the audio file. I stare at it. It’s amazing how something so small and insubstantial can ruin a bond.

Not ruin.The bond that I thought was there was fake. It never really existed, so nothing has been ruined.

Damn it. I’ve been an easy mark.

I forward the file to Chantel via text, then block her. That done, I text my accountant.

–Me: Stop all funding going to Chantel Winters immediately. Freeze every account she’s been using that’s under my control. And make sure she can’t use any of my credit cards.

All of her cards are mine. She’s on them as an authorized user. A moment later, a response arrives.

–Shawn: What about her house? The lease is under your name.

–Me: Tell the landlord I need to end the lease effective immediately. Are the utilities under my name?

–Shawn: Yes. You’ve been getting invoices for them.

–Me: Cut them off.

She won’t be happy without water or power. But I’m far beyond giving a fuck.

–Me: If she tries to contact you, don’t engage with her.

–Shawn: Understood.

If he’s curious, he doesn’t ask. But then he usually doesn’t offer an opinion or express curiosity unless it’s to advise me on how to maximize tax deductions.

I put my phone down. It pisses me off that this is the best I can do. Yuna looks at me with concern.

“Are you all right?”

Normally, my answer would be something along the lines of “I’m fine.” But I don’t want to lie to Yuna. “Not really.”

She squeezes my hand silently. After a moment, she goes to the piano and starts playing the Schubert Impromptu I love so much, the notes flowing out of the huge instrument with the ease of water in a summer stream.

I watch her play, surrounded by the sun. She seems to know exactly what I need without my having to tell her. And she gives it to me without asking anything in return.

And I’m starting to feel at peace. This must be how it feels to be part of her inner circle.

What Chantel said in the recording stung, but I’m not going to let it affect me. Our relationship, yes, but not me. I’m not the little boy who was scared and needed somebody so desperately that he couldn’t discern who truly cared for him and who was going to use him. I have my own friends, my own success. And Yuna.

When Yuna’s done with the piece, she starts another one, a Chopin waltz she played for me some time ago. The melody calms me. Everything she plays is special because she’s doing it just for me.

My personal phone buzzes on the kitchen counter. Annoyed with the interruption, I pick it up to hit the red button, but stop. It’s a text from Benedict.

–Benedict: I’m still busy with my screenplay and I’m not going to have the Internet or phone service after this.

I quit reading and roll my eyes. If he writes his screenplay the way he writes texts, with lots of preamble and preface, it’s going into somebody’s Dumpster.

–Benedict: Anyway, Kim asked for your number because she’s planning a surprise birthday party for Yuna with some friends and wanted to know if you want to come. She also hinted at helping out, but I told her you were too busy for that.

My jaw slackens at his audacity. He should’ve checked with me first!

–Me: What the hell, man! I’m not too busy!

–Benedict: Oh, come on! You’re always busy. Far too busy to help plan an assistant’s party. I wasn’t even going to contact you, actually, but Kim insisted.

Thank God! I’m sending Kim a present.

–Me: Yeah, because she’s smart.

I don’t add “unlike you,” but I think it really hard, hoping Benedict has developed some telepathic ability.

–Benedict: Anyway, I suppose this means you want me to give her your number?

–Me: Yes. I’m okay with Yuna’s friends having it, too.

None of them looked like the fame-crazed type. Besides, if they haven’t stalked Ryder Reed, they aren’t going to start with me.

–Benedict: Seeing as how I exist only to serve you, even when I’m supposed to be on vacation, I shall relay the message.

A few minutes later, my phone starts receiving texts from unknown numbers. I angle myself so Yuna can’t see that I’m texting.

–Unknown: This is Kim. Is this Declan?

–Me: Yes.

–Unknown: It’s Ivy. Hey!

–Unknown: Nate here.

The rest introduce themselves.

–Tony: The party has to be absolutely perfect.

–Me: Obviously. She deserves nothing less.

–Nate: And the best presents.

Oh shit. What do I get for Yuna? Something totally memorable and awesome. But what?

–Me: What’s a good present for Yuna?

Her friends have known her for a long time. Maybe they know something that can inspire me to pick the most perfect gift ever.

–Nate: If you’re asking what you should get her, I vote for a pink Cullinan.

–Me: A pink what?

–Nate: It’s a Rolls-Royce SUV. Very distinctive. My sister-in-law’s brother got one for his wife, and she hasn’t divorced him yet. Hehehe.

–Evie: I’m sure it’s because she loves him, not because of the car.

–Nate: But that car is proof that he loves her.

A pink Cullinan? That doesn’t sound so bad. Yuna would look adorable in a pink car, especially in her amazing dresses and shoes. Given the number of pink outfits she has, it’s probably her favorite color, too.

–Ivy: Can you help with prep too, Declan? I heard you’re too busy.

Fucking Benedict. He should’ve checked first.

–Me: Never too busy to do something for Yuna. I’d love to.

–Ivy: Awesome! We have people to do the big stuff like dealing with florists and decorators and stuff, but there are so many little things.

–Pascal: I don’t know how Yuna did everything when she put together parties for us.

More texts are exchanged, some of them jokes, some of them tasks to be done. My first assignment is to reserve a cake from a place called Bobbi’s Sweet Things.

–Tony: It’s Yuna’s favorite bakery because it’s owned by Ivy’s former bodyguard. And if you tell Bobbi it’s for Yuna’s birthday, she’ll bake something totally amazing.

–Me: I’ll get it done. Anything else?

Normally, I delegate tasks like this to my assistant, but of course that’s not an option this time. But even if it were, Yuna deserves my personal attention. I smile, imagining the bright expression on her face when she sees the cake. And the surprise party.

–Ivy: I don’t have the list right now, but I’ll text you if I think of something.

–Me: Great.

Then I realize we’re having the party in the U.S.

–Me: BTW, is her mother coming?

–Ivy: Yes.

Hmm. Hopefully Lady Min will behave for Yuna’s sake. I mean, I can be an adult about her trying to buy me off and all. Which reminds me of what she said. How I never took Yuna to a Korean restaurant and fed her her favorite Korean food.

–Me: What’s Yuna’s favorite Korean food? Barbecue?

Somebody in the group should know.

–Tony: No. She says it makes her clothes smell.

–Nate: Which is a weird thing to object about, because kalbi smells so good. I’d totally use eau de kalbi.

–Court: And have every dog in your neighborhood try to hump you.

I press my lips to avoid laughing. If Yuna asks me what’s funny, I don’t want to have to lie.

–Ivy: She likes Korean table d’hôte. I can send you a couple of places in Koreatown she likes.

–Me: Thanks.

Ivy sends me three. I look them up, pick the one with the best online reviews and make an online lunch reservation for later today. This should make her happy, since she loves to eat and it won’t violate her unofficial curfew.

Then I remember to ask for another table. In the notes section, I write, Make these guests sit as far from us as possible.

I’m not having Mr. Choi and Ms. Kim hovering around when I take Yuna out.