Page 24 of My Billionaire Casino Boss

Thomas finally speaks up, his voice calm and measured. “Lily, I understand your concerns. But Eric’s right. If we want to convince Hillary, we need to make this look real.”

I look at him, my heart pounding in my chest. I can see the sincerity in his eyes, and it makes my resolve waver. I hate the idea of lying on such a large scale, but I’ve already committed to the lie. I made my bed, and now I have to lie in it.

“Fine,” I say. “But I’m not happy about this.”

Eric just shrugs again, and I fight the urge to punch his smug face. “Welcome to the grown-up world, little sister.”

I roll my eyes. Eric’s idea of adulthood is seriously skewed if he thinks this is anything like reality.

I leave the coffee shop feeling like I’ve made a huge mistake. The lines between truth and fiction are already starting to blur. I’ve agreed to a lie, and now I have to live it.

As soon as I get home, I pull out my laptop and video call Ally. Her face fills the screen, her eyes wide with surprise. “Lily? What’s wrong?”

I take a deep breath, trying to organize my thoughts. “I need your advice,” I explain everything to her, from the fake relationship to Eric’s plan to publicize it. As I talk, I can see her expression change from surprise to concern.

“Lily, this sounds like a disaster waiting to happen,” she says, her voice filled with worry. “You’re going to get your heart broken.”

I wince at her words, knowing she’s probably right. “I know, but I don’t know what else to do. Thomas needs my help.”

“But at what cost, Lily?” Ally asks, her voice soft. “You’re putting your heart on the line for a man who has made it clear he doesn’t want a real relationship with you.”

“I’ve already agreed to this,” I say, my voice weak. “I can’t just back out now.”

Ally sighs, her face filled with sympathy. “Lily, you need to think about yourself. You’re not responsible for Thomas or his problems. You need to do what’s best for you.”

Her words echo in my head long after we end the call. I sit in silence, my mind a whirlwind of thoughts. I know Ally is right, but the thought of backing out now feels like a betrayal. I’ve already agreed to help Thomas, and I can’t just leave him hanging.

At the same time, I can’t ignore the truth in Ally’s words. I’m putting my heart on the line for a man who has made it clear he doesn’t want a real relationship with me. I’m setting myself up for heartbreak, and for what? A little cash and maybe some help finding a job?

I take a deep breath, trying to calm my racing thoughts. I need to think about this, to really consider what I’m getting myself into. I need to decide if this is a risk I’m willing to take, or if I should call it off before I get in too deep.

I’m still lost in my thoughts when my phone buzzes on the table. I pick it up, my heart sinking as I see a notification from Instagram. I’ve been tagged in a post by Eric.

“You don’t waste any time, do you,” I mutter, making a mental note to give Eric that punch I held back earlier.

I click on the notification, my breath hitching as I see the photo. It’s an old picture of Thomas, Eric, and me from when we were teenagers. We’re all smiles, Thomas with his arm casually slung around my shoulders. It was a friendly moment, nothing more, but now—I read the caption and my heart sinks even further. “Reunited and it feels so good,” it reads: “So happy for these two. #LoveStory #SecondChance”

I stare at the screen, my mind reeling. This isn’t what I signed up for. I agreed to pretend to be dating Thomas, not to be in love with him. The implications of this post are far more than I bargained for.

This is moving too fast and becoming too real. I’m not just pretending to be Thomas’s girlfriend; I’m pretending to be his long-lost love. And the worst part is there might be a grain of truth in the facade.

I put my phone down, my mind a whirlwind of thoughts. This is more than I bargained for, more than I’m prepared to handle. I need to talk to Thomas, to figure out what we’re doing and where we’re going.

For now, I just sit there, staring at the photo of us, and wonder how I got myself into this mess.

The nightmare continues as soon as I wake up. There are six texts from my mom, all demanding information about my ‘new relationship.’ I need to set her straight, but not without caffeine. I drag myself out of bed and into the kitchen, where I start a pot of strong coffee, grab a container of yogurt, and text my brother.

L: You’re unbelievable. Mom is already harassing me.

Eric replies with a shrugging emoji, and I almost hurl my phone across the room.

L: What am I supposed to tell her? You know she’s going to hate this idea.

E: Don’t tell her anything. She’s going to be telling all her friends in no time—you’ll be the talk of middle-aged suburbia. It’s perfect.

L: I hate you so much.

E: Love you too!

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