Page 15 of The Billionaires' Gamble

Shon laughs.

I take a deep breath. The air is surprisingly verdant, warm and slightly humid as well. A breeze swirls through the treetops. For just a moment, I close my eyes and everything feels normal. Like it did before my life flipped upside down. Breakfast and an early morning call with my bestie. It feels good, like things aren’t as crazy as they seem.

“Have you heard anything else about your job?” she asks.

I sigh and head back to the kitchen. Destiny outdid herself setting this kitchen up so quickly. Gabe said his friend hasn’t lived here in a while, and a caretaker’s been looking after things. Which explains the personal touches but also the lack of feeling lived in.

I’m sure that the plentiful selection of cereal was King’s doing. Or at his request.

“Oh yeah. This is textbook ‘the left hand doesn’t know what the right is doing.’” I pour myself a bowl of extra chocolate crunchy cereal and settle in the bar-height chairs at the end of the island.

“My boss called me over the weekend. I didn’t answer, but I can guess what he wanted. And my mother called me three times yesterday.”

“Figures.”

I need to call my mother back. I’m not looking forward to it. The petty part of me is curious. And the part that finally feels stronger... free... wants to block my mother’s number and never speak to her again. But I have to play the game a little longer.

I hear the water running on the other end of the line, then the jangle of a full dishwasher rack.

“How are you doing with everything?” Shon asks.

“Honestly—”

“Always.”

I lean against the kitchen island, relaxing because this is Shon, and from the time we were little, I never felt like I needed to keep anything a secret from her. She’s been there through all the ups and downs, offering guidance, a bit of snark and a lot of love.

“Is it weird to say I feel liberated?”

“Nope.”

Another deep breath. “Like, how does a life turn inside out so quickly?”

“Oh, honey, this hasn’t been quick at all.”

That makes me sit bolt upright.

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve been on this path for over a decade. Since the very first letter you wrote to me.”

I slouch back in the barstool, one arm crossed over my middle. “You think?”

“I know. If I had a dollar for every time you second-guessed yourself because of your witch of a mother or degenerate grandfather, I could put a down payment on a jet.”

I huff a laugh because she’s not wrong. Pursing my lips, I let my mind wander.

“It might feel fast because those hotties essentially broke you out of jail, but Kay, you’ve been trying to break free every chance you got.”

Break free. What an interesting phrase. It grates a bit, because who wouldn’t want this life? Pampered and privileged. But the cost is high, and I’m done paying it.

“You’re right,” I tell her, glancing at the time on my phone. Someone content with her lot in life doesn’t hoard information, waiting for the shoe to drop. She doesn’t live with one foot in two different worlds, waiting for escape.

“Of course, I’m right.”

We laugh together. “Of course you are.”

I’m so lucky she’s on my side.