Page 52 of Falling for the Wrong Billionaire
"You’re really good at this," I say, motioning to the breakfast. "The food, the tech business— everything. How do you even handle it all?”
He shrugs, the modesty in his movement making me smile. "I won't say everything. I'll just say Tech. And it's just because I found a purpose in giving solutions. Tech was the only way to go."
I’m surprised by the depth of his answer, by the way he speaks about it so passionately. There’s a fire in him, a spark that makes everything he says feel like it matters.
I watch him closely, intrigued. "What about you, Lucy?" he asks, his voice gentle but insistent. "Have you always known what you wanted to do? Or did it just come to you, like me?"
I pause, thinking carefully about my answer. "I don’t know," I admit. "I’ve never really discovered my purpose. I just knowbeing with animals makes me happy. It’s the only thing I’ve ever felt sure about."
He smiles, that warm, genuine smile of his. "I think that’s enough."
We eat in silence after that, the rain still pattering against the windows. There’s a sense of peace here, in this simple moment, in the way the world outside feels distant, and all that matters is the here and now.
I don’t want it to end.
***
By mid-afternoon, the rain hasn’t let up. It’s still coming down in steady sheets, tapping against the windows and casting the world outside in a muted gray. Inside, the atmosphere couldn’t be more different. There’s warmth in Liam’s home, and it has nothing to do with the heating system or the soft glow of the lights. It’s something more — a kind of quiet energy that wraps around us, cocooning us from the outside world.
Breakfast has long been cleared away, and now we’re sitting at the kitchen table, playing Monopoly. I didn’t think I’d ever find myself here, in this kitchen, with Liam, of all people, playing such a silly game.
But it’s the perfect way to spend a rainy afternoon. The kind of afternoon that feels slow, intentional, like the hours stretch just enough to make every moment feel significant. I’m not even paying attention to the clock anymore.
Liam’s been teasing me for the last hour. Every time I get a little too cocky, thinking I might actually win a round, he pulls out one of his signature moves and takes me down again.
I groan, pretending to throw my piece of paper money across the table in frustration. “That’s it,” I say, sinking back into my chair. “I’m giving up. You win every single time.”
Liam’s grin is smug, but there’s something more playful behind it. “It’s not my fault you don’t know how to play, Lucy.” He leans back in his chair, his fingers brushing against his glass of wine. He’s clearly enjoying this way too much.
“You’re insufferable,” I laugh, shaking my head. "But seriously, what is it you want from me? You've won three times in a row. What do you want me to do?"
He chuckles, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “You’re giving up too easily. You don’t get off that easily. You owe me one now.”
I roll my eyes but can’t hide the smile playing at my lips. “I don’t even know what that means.”
He shrugs, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “You’ll find out soon enough.”
I glare at him playfully, but I’m honestly more relieved than anything. The way he makes it all seem like a game — like it’s all lighthearted — is almost enough to let me forget how badly I’ve been losing.
“Fine,” I mutter. “I owe you one.”
He gives me an exaggerated bow, clearly pleased with himself. “Good. You’ll thank me later.”
I scoff. “Somehow, I doubt that.”
I hadn’t realized how much time had passed until I glance over at the clock on the wall. The afternoon has completely slipped away while I was focused on the game — on him. I feel this odd, comforting sense of time stretching, as if the world outside is just a distant noise, and it’s only here, with Liam, that everything matters.
My thoughts are interrupted by the ferrets running around my feet. They’re chasing each other, their tiny paws pattering on the floor, and I can’t help but laugh.
“I should probably feed them,” I say, noticing that their playful antics are only getting louder.
Liam glances over, his smile softening. “I’ll take care of it.”
I blink, surprised at how easily he steps into the role. The way he moves toward the ferret basket is gentle and effortless, and I can’t stop myself from admiring how well he handles them. It’s the smallest thing, but it’s moments like these that make me realize how much I’m starting to appreciate him.
“You’re good with them,” I say, my voice almost shy as I watch him handle the ferrets.
“They’re easy,” he replies, grinning. “They’ve got personality, that’s for sure.”
