Page 47 of My Grumpy Billionaire Soccer Star

His eyes widen further as he comes closer. “What? You’ve got nothing to say? You really think I am that evil, don’t you? No—it is not even about abandoning you. You actually think I might know a secret exit and am keeping it from you.”

There isn’t an atom of hurt in his eyes, but there’s a shit ton of accusation therein. I know, I may have been crazy to think that he’s done that, but gosh, why is he trying so hard to guilt-trip me?

He steps closer, bringing his face just a couple of inches away from mine. “I may be a pain in the ass, but I would never do that to another human being.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. I guess I was just scared.”

There you have it!

A mischievous smile crosses his lips. “It’s alright. Come help me gather these,” he says, pointing at the fruits on the ground.

I have always been cautious when asking Vaughn questions, even when those questions would help me understand work-related issues better. He hates to be questioned about anything and everything, and he always uses this annoyingly rude sentence: “It’s your job to find out. That’s what I pay you for.”

When you have worked for Vaughn as long as I have, you never get too comfortable with him. That’s sad, but it’s the truth. You’re trained from day one to always be self-conscious around Vaughn, the unquestionable god. I have never been one to submit, but working with Vaughn demands you do so. I have become so accustomed to his annoying side that it comes as a surprise to see his caring side. Believe it or not, my reaction was no exaggeration.

It’s been just a day on the island, and the changes are glaring. It’s almost like he’s morphed into a new person, and at this point, it scares me more than it relieves me.

“Why did you have to come all the way to get the same peach fruit?” I ask.

“Figured it tastes juicier than the ones we got yesterday. Give it a try.”

I bite into it and chew. He’s not lying.

“How’s progress with finding an escape route? Any success with that yet?”

A sad twinkle appears in his eyes. He shakes his head gently. “No, but I did find something.”

He motions for me to follow him, and after about ten minutes’ walk, we arrive at a waterfall plunging into a gorge, creating a beautiful freshwater lagoon below.

“This is where the forest ends,” he says, defeat in his voice. “But on the upside, we could use this for water in the meantime.”

I nodded in understanding, and we exchange glances. Something about the way he’s handling the situation calmly and making the best out of our misfortune sparks admiration in me. I wonder what would have happened if somehow, I had been the only one alive in the crash—definitely dying the next day for sure.

We head back toward the beach. After storing some food in our tent for later, Vaughn suggests we sit down at the beach. In his words, “Who knows, some ship might come passing by.”

We sit down on the warm sand, watching the waves rise and crash as we munch on our simple meal of peach fruit and water drunk from coconut shells—like we have a choice. It is peaceful and simple—talk about making the best out of negative circumstances.

“Look!” Vaughn points at a bag bobbing up and down in the ocean. It’s almost washed up on shore, but Vaughn stands up and immediately sprints toward it.

I follow when I realize it is my bag. I sprint toward him, but he has already gotten there before me. To my utter shock, the bag is wide open like it was never sealed in the first place, and I rush to pull it onto dry land. I zip the bag up in fear and apprehension, hoping he didn’t see what I was trying to hide. But when I lift my head back up to meet his eyes, I realize I’m too late.

Chapter twenty

Chapter Twenty

Vaughn

Inarrow my gaze, watching Rachel practically slam the bag shut, zip it up, and shove it behind her like she’s guarding some life-altering secret. It’s the perfect way to rouse suspicion, if you ask me. I would know something was up even if I hadn’t seen the contents.

“Rachel,” I say in a firm, low voice. “I saw your things.”

She avoids my gaze and starts walking away—not to where we were sitting earlier, eating fruits and drinking water, but somewhere closer to the sea: a high sand dune.

I stand there, watching her briefly before I start following. Something about the contents of the bag doesn’t seem right, and I am determined to know what that is.

“Stop following me,” she snaps, but I remain unfazed. I have already promised myself to let it slide anytime she gives me attitude while we’re on the beach.

“Not until you tell me what medicine that is and what you’re taking it for.”

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