Page 124 of How to Fall for the Secret Billionaire
I blink. It’s nearly midnight, and she never comes out this late. Shoot, she rarely comes out at all unless she suddenly runs out of food or one of her mysterious walkabouts around the orchard. But here she is—standing like a sentinel, waiting.
Margot notices her too and frowns.
Did something happen?
The moment we park and get out, Thea starts walking toward us. Her gaze is locked on me, not unkind, but… laser-focused. Analytical.
“Thea?” Margot asks. “Is something wrong?”
Thea stops a few feet away and lifts her chin slightly. “You’re Cal Hale,” she says, tone flat but certain. “You created TechBit.”
Margot stiffens beside me.
I don’t move. I can’t. It feels like I’ve been caught in a trap I set for myself.
Thea’s eyes don’t waver. “It’s you. Isn’t it?”
It’s over. I feel it in my chest—like something collapsing in slow motion.
I turn to Margot, desperate to explain, to say something, anything that might hold this together. But she’s not even looking at me.
She’s staring at Thea.
“What did you call him?” she asks, her voice low and sharp.
Thea’s face falls instantly. She looks from me to Margot, guilt written all over her. “Oh, you didn’t know? I’m so sorry?—”
Margot cuts her off. “Thea! Tell me who he is!”
I want to step in. I should. But I can’t move. My feet are rooted to the gravel, my heart pounding so loud I can barely hear Thea when she says, “This guy is a billionaire tech genius.”
She lets out a nervous laugh. “If this isn’t already awkward, I’d be asking for his autograph right now.”
Thea must feel it—the shift in the air, the tension clinging to every breath—because she backs away with a stammered “Sorry” and practically sprints toward the house.
And then it’s just us.
Margot turns to me slowly, arms crossed over her chest like she’s holding herself together. Her eyes… I’ve never seen them like this. So hurt.
That’s somehow worse.
“I should’ve told you,” I say, my voice raw. “From the beginning. But I-I didn’t know how. I was tired, Margot. Burnt out. I wanted to disappear for a while, and then I met you. And for the first time in a long time, I felt like I could breathe again. Like I could be someone else—just Cal, not Calvin Hale.”
She doesn’t say anything. Just looks at me. That quiet burns more than shouting ever could.
So I keep talking.
“I sold TechBit. Yeah. For five billion. I left L.A., walked away from everything—my company, my board, my apartment, all of it. Because I couldn’t take the pressure anymore. And I didn’t want to be worshipped or chased or used. I just wanted peace. And then I found your inn. Found you.”
Still, nothing.
“I never lied about how I felt,” I add softly. “That was real. It’s still real.”
“Was it you who sent the inn money the other day? The anonymous donor?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.
I swallow hard. There’s no point lying now. “Yeah.”
She lets out a laugh—sharp and broken—and it shatters something in me. “Oh, I’m such a fool.”
