Page 5 of The Billionaire's Pact

She plopped down on her bed and stretched her arms above her head. “Your stuff is here, too.” She pointed at the two tubes of my favorite paintings she kept—just in case Mrs. Belfiore misplaced them in the bin.

I picked up the children’s book I had illustrated, and she made me sign, “The Bumble Bee Ball.” It was a freelance illustration gig I had done for a writer online. I leafed through the images of the bees dressed in their finest clothes as they flew through the gate at Honeyville Springs.

“I still think that this is so you,” she murmured as I handed it back to her.

I thought so, too, but I had other important things ahead and it would have to stay as a hobby. “You sure you can keep them for a while?”

“Of course. They’ll travel with me down the road.” She gave me a thumbs up.

Cassidy wasn’t just going down the road; she had been accepted into Harvard Law. She managed to party and oversleep, but still made top grades. Her brilliance and photographic memory helped out.

I went to her dresser and pulled out a college T-shirt and jogging pants, just like she had on.

She tsked. “Honestly, you’re an adult now. Your granny playing dress up is weird. Tell her to respect your boundaries.”

Cassidy talked big, but she—and most of the students I attended school with—were in the same boat as me. Decisions were made for them since birth. Her parents were top entertainment managers in L.A., who expected her to inherit the company, so she had more leeway. But not much.

“When you tell your parents you want to be an actress, you can talk.” I bent down and she unhooked the clasp at the back of the dress, then I put on the clothes. I rolled my neck and took the hairband Cassidy held out, pulling my hair up into a messy bun like hers.

“You’re gorgeous. I hate you,” she mused.

I grinned at her. “I hate you, too, Gorgeous.”

Her expression turned impish as she picked up her phone. “Check this out.”

I took it from her. It was a naked guy posed by a mirror, watching himself make a muscle.

I threw her phone on her bed. “Oh, come on.”

Cassidy laughed and stretched her hand over to collect it. “I met him on Match. He’s not bad, but he describes himself as an ‘alpha male.’”

We cringed and she reached down the side of her bed and pulled out a small box. “You have a new package from your mysterious boyfriend ‘M.’” She cocked her brow.

I chewed on my lip. My “M” was Mr. Luca Marini, and my only secret from Cassidy. Because even though I trusted her, I feared she might let it slip out and it would get back to my family.

I opened the box and held up Huxley’s Brave New World.

Cassidy scrunched up her face in disgust at the book. “Be still my heart.”

He’d written a bank account number on the inside cover, just like he’d done with the others he’d sent before. I always turned down his money gifts.

“You sure this mysterious M’s not your…husband?” she whispered behind her hand.

I rolled my eyes and shook my head.

She grimaced. “But someone like him could be. God, I really hate this for you. I’m serious. Just tell them you changed your mind. At least they should’ve let you date.”

I shrugged. “I’m over it.”

The type of man my grandparents promised me to wanted a virgin. How they would know for sure was debatable, but why risk it? Dating would only lead to temptation, so I didn’t.

“Just put your foot down,” she said. “You’re a grown woman now.”

Cassidy spoke like we’d all been taught. Every woman at our women’s college talked about empowerment. I admired their strength and self-esteem, but I hadn’t forgotten what brought me here. She was my favorite person, and I loved her like a sister, but she was spoiled. She never went hungry or went a season without the latest designer heels or bags. I knew what it was like to have my heroin-addicted father sell our food for his fix. To be hit when he lost a bet. To sleep in paid-by-the-hour motels. Or to leave school early to work jobs where the manager didn’t check my age. My grandparents may suck, but at least I’ve got clean clothes and a roof over my head. Jacob and Mama are safe.

My mind attempted to pep-talk me, but Cassidy hugged my shoulder. “I’ll drop it, Lina. But I’m here to support you.”

“I’d rather not talk about it anymore,” I mumbled.

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