Page 67 of His Cruel Billionaire Scorecard

Roman’s face was expressionless. He reached out to touch her arm, his voice hard. “It’s not because I don’t want you here, Olivia. It’s because I’m afraid. Afraid that I might say something in the heat of the moment that I’ll regret. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You’re hurting me already.”

Tears welled up in Olivia’s eyes as she tried to comprehend his reasoning. She had always believed in her ability to communicate openly and face challenges head-on. Now, it felt as if the ground beneath her had crumbled, leaving her in a state of confusion and vulnerability.

“I understand that you’re upset, Roman,” she replied. “But shutting me out won’t protect me. It will only make me feel more alone.”

Roman’s eyes softened. “I never wanted to make you feel alone, Olivia. I just think it would be better this way.”

Taking a deep breath, Olivia gathered her strength, picked up her discarded gown, and searched for her shoes; they were under the bed.

Without a word, she saw herself out of the room as Roman watched her leave.

***

Olivia stepped on the set, taking in the bustling activity around her.

Avery had texted her the location of her shoot this morning.

She spotted Avery, dressed in her set clothes, playing the role of a maid.

Seeing her immediately lightened her mood because she knew in real life, Avery would never dress this way; she was in a simple yet elegant black dress, complete with a white apron and a small cap perched atop her head. Avery looked every bit the part. Her eyes lit up with excitement as she caught sight of Olivia waving enthusiastically.

“Hey, Liv! Look at me, all dressed up as a maid,” Avery exclaimed, turning and bowing.

Olivia smiled, admiring her friend’s dedication to her craft. “Just to think you wouldn’t be caught dead in this, but I have to say, you look fantastic, Avery.”

They found a quiet corner on the set; Avery couldn’t help but notice the somber expression on Olivia’s face.

Concern etched her face as she reached out and gently touched Olivia’s arm. “What’s wrong, Liv? You don’t seem like yourself today. Something is bothering you?”

Olivia sighed, her shoulders sagging with the weight of her worries. “It’s just... things with Roman have gotten complicated. I thought we were getting closer, but then he pushed me away this morning. I’m hurt and confused.”

She narrated the Scarlett story from the restaurant incident to the call this morning while Avery listened and nodded.

“I’m sorry to hear that, Liv. Relationships can be tricky. Will you find and talk to him about how you feel?”

Olivia shook her head. “Not yet. I didn’t want to push him further away. But it’s been frustrating. I just hate this. Why am I even fussing over this? This was not a real relationship in the first place.”

Avery reached out and squeezed her hand gently. “It doesn’t matter. At least it’s over now and you deserve clarity, Liv. Maybe it’s time to have an open and honest conversation with Roman. You both need to understand each other’s feelings and expectations before this gets too complicated.”

Olivia nodded, “You’re right, Avery. I can’t avoid the conversation forever. I need to know where we stand. But I’ll wait for him to contact me. That will mean he wants to talk things out too.”

Avery smiled reassuringly. “I’m here for you, Liv. Whatever you decide, I’ll support you.”

Olivia pulled in Avery for a hug, feeling everything was going to be alright. But three days passed, and she heard nothing from him, and he never came to work.

Chapter 25

Mr.Winston,orthe“mega whale,” a prominent figure in the business world, sat at a corner table in the elegant and exclusive Per se restaurant in New York City.

The restaurant was an embodiment of sophistication, perfectly suited to his tastes, with its tastefully decorated interior, soft ambient lighting, and panoramic views of Central Park. The murmurs of conversations and the clinking of fine crystal glasses created a refined and luxurious atmosphere.

His distinguished presence commanded attention. His white hair, neatly groomed, contrasted with his perfectly tailored charcoal gray suit. He was an air of authority and elegance, his posture impeccable despite the slight limp that accompanied his every step. A silver-handled cane leaned against his chair.

“Roman Knight, how nice of you to appear, and right on time, too.”

Roman approached Mr. Winston’s table, extending his hand and offering a warm smile. “Thank you for meeting with me, Mr. Winston. I appreciate your willingness to hear me out.”

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