Page 35 of The Billionaire’s Paradise (My Billionaire #4)

Kimo suddenly glanced to his left, eyes narrowing.

“Mr. Banks?” he called. “Hey—don’t go out too far! Stay with the group!”

But Mr. Banks was already paddling serenely away from us, his board cutting across the shimmering water like a man on a mission.

“I’m heading off on a new adventure!” he declared, raising his paddle like a flag. “The sea is calling me! There’s nothing waiting for me back on shore!”

That’s when Tutu Makani stood up.

No hesitation. No wobble. Just straight to her feet like a queen rising from her throne.

“Yes, there is, Basil,” she called, her voice strong and clear across the water. “I’m right here!”

Mr. Banks paused.

He turned slowly, blinking at the shore. And then—just like that—his face lit up. The kind of glow you don’t fake. The kind of recognition that sinks into your bones.

“Oh, my love,” he called, utterly sincere. “There you are. I’m coming back to you. How could I ever leave you?”

He started paddling back, slow and sure, eyes fixed on her like she was the lighthouse guiding him home.

And yes—once again—I caught the look on Angus’s face.

He was pouting.

Subtly. Quietly. But definitely pouting.

The sun was warm, the water gentle, and for the first time in days, everyone looked lighter. Rashida had stretched out flat on her board, floating with her eyes closed like she was at a spa. Angus kept falling in and laughing louder every time.

Even Cal had loosened up, paddling with that smooth, infuriating ease of his. It annoyed me, how effortless things came to him. But the truth was, half the things that annoyed me about Cal were the same things that made me love him so.

There we all were, doing something new, something fun, something together… and Kimo had been right.

We did need the ocean.

For a few golden hours, it was just us and the sea.

Eventually, one by one, the others began to head back toward shore—tired, sun-drunk, and smiling.

I followed, paddling slowly, letting the calm soak in a little longer.

Behind me, I could hear Mrs. Mulroney still talking to herself, wobbling wildly but grinning like she’d just discovered a new religion. She was in no rush. And even though she wasn’t very good at it, she was clearly having the time of her life.

On the sand, Rashida was already talking about smoothies. Angus was dripping and giddy. Tutu gave Mr. Banks a towel and Mr. Banks gave her a kiss. We were right on the edge of calling it a perfect afternoon —

Then Leilani stood up suddenly, one hand shielding her eyes from the sun.

“Shark,” she said. Not loud. Not screaming. Just firm. Clear.

Everything stopped.

“What?” I asked, thinking I’d misheard her.

She pointed. “There. Out by the reef.”

I turned. We all did.

And that’s when I saw her.

Mrs. Mulroney.

Still out there. Still on her board.

Still smiling.

Oblivious.

“Oh my God,” Cal muttered. “She’s the only one still in the water.”

He swiftly scooped up his board and was already moving.

“Kimo—”

“On it,” Kimo said.

Boards under their arms, Cal and Kimo were suddenly sprinting back into the water.

The rest of us raced to the water’s edge.

“Do we warn her?” Angus asked, his breath short.

“She’ll panic,” Leilani said. “The last thing she should do right now is panic.”

“It’s moving toward her,” Tilly breathed in horror.

Out on the water, Mrs. Mulroney saw Cal and Kimo hit the surf again, paddling fast with their hands, boards under their chests, making long, deliberate strides straight toward her.

She stood a little taller.

Then squinted.

“Why are you coming back?” she yelled. “What’s wrong with your faces? Is there something behind me?!”

“She knows now,” Angus said grimly, like a man narrating a documentary about a gazelle realizing too late that it’s alone on the savannah .

“She can’t panic,” Leilani muttered. “She needs to stay calm. She can’t panic now.”

“I think it’s too late for that,” Tilly said. “Look at her hands. She’s gone into full marionette mode.”

Out on the water, Mrs. Mulroney turned, the board jittering as she nearly toppled twice.

“What is it?!” she shouted. “Is it a jellyfish? Please tell me it’s a jellyfish!”

She stared into the water…

Saw the dorsal fin cutting a line through the water straight toward her…

And screamed so loud several seagulls fell out of the sky, startled.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake! It’s a shark! It’s a fucking shark! Sweet Jesus, I need a bigger boat!”

Kimo and Cal were already sprint-paddling through the water.

“She’s panicking alright,” Rashida said. “That board is starting to pitch like a booze cruise in a hurricane.”

I bolted into the surf, desperate to try and save her but knowing Cal and Kimo would get there before me. “Mrs. Mulroney, try to stay calm! Just stay calm!”

“That’s easy for you to say!” she exclaimed. “You’re not the one standing on something that looks like a six-foot-long seafood platter while something with three rows of teeth sizes you up for lunch!”

“Just stay still,” Cal called from his board. “We’re coming!”

“So is the bloody shark!”

Tilly tried to help. “You’re okay, Mrs. Mulroney. The span from the dorsal fin to the tail fin is only a few feet. From what I can tell it’s just a reef shark.”

“It’s just a reef shark?” she yelled back. “That’s like saying to someone ‘It’s just a bus’ before it knocks them clean out of their shoes!”

Suddenly the shark was circling her .

Suddenly her board rocked violently.

“Try lowering your center of gravity,” Kimo shouted.

“Where do you suggest I lower it to?” she called out. “I’m already at sea level.”

And then—before Cal and Kimo could reach her—the board pitched sideways.

Mrs. Mulroney’s feet danced wildly, her body teetered this way, flailed that way, and then—in one dramatic, arm-flapping, leg-sprawling motion—she fell…

Straight on top of the shark!

Everyone on shore gasped in unison.

There was an almighty splash in the water.

We saw fins and arms and legs thrashing about.

And in the next instant, the shark that had come to investigate what was on the paddleboard hightailed it back out to sea so fast I think it began to question its place on the food chain.

A second later, Mrs. Mulroney came up coughing and spluttering and gasping for air, screaming—“It touched me! It attacked me! It tried to kill me!”

On shore, Rashida said quietly—“Am I dreaming? Or did Mrs. Mulroney just fall on top of a shark.”

I nodded, kind of numb. “No, it was real alright. Mrs. Mulroney just fell on top of a shark.”

Out on the water, Cal helped Kimo pull Mrs. Mulroney onto the front of Kimo’s board before the three of them returned to shore.

“The minute I’m back at college, I need to organize a team to go tag that shark,” said Tilly excitedly. “We can learn a lot from that kind of post-traumatic stress in a marine animal.”

“I only hope that shark has a good therapist,” said Leilani. “It’s gonna take years to unpack that shit.”

By the time Cal and Kimo reached the shallows, Mrs. Mulroney was lying flat on her back on Kimo’s board, arms splayed, hair slicked to her head like a Victorian shipwreck survivor.

Cal helped her up and steadied her as she stepped onto the sand—soaking, furious, and trying very hard to remain dignified.

“Don’t speak,” she said to no one in particular. “I’ve had a near-death experience and a very personal encounter with marine life. I need a towel and a very stiff drink.”

Rashida handed her a towel.

Angus stared at her, wide-eyed. “You… actually touched a shark.”

“It touched me ,” she corrected. “I was the victim here.”

Mr. Banks gave a thoughtful nod. “I once got chased by a penguin in Argentina. Even today I step cautiously into dark alleyways.”

Struggling not to laugh, Tutu took Mrs. Mulroney by the arm. “Come, dear. We’ll cook up a lovely big fish for dinner. That’ll give you some closure.”

Meanwhile, all I could do was wrap my arms tight around Cal’s salty, wet, sunburned neck. “God, that was so brave of you.”

“It was?” he asked, catching his breath. “I guess I didn’t really think it through before I jumped into the water. But you know what that’s like.”

“I do?”

He smiled. “The garbage truck? The day you saved my life all those years ago?” He kissed me on the forehead, light and warm. “I think sometimes you forget how brave you can be.”

By the time we got back to the house, the adrenaline had curdled into exhaustion.

We were sunburned, salt-sticky, and slightly traumatized. Someone—probably Tilly—declared we needed hydration. Someone else—definitely Rashida—suggested tequila. No one argued with either.

Tutu and Kimo left in Kimo’s pickup to fetch a fish from their freezer, one to bring back to the barbecue and celebrate Mrs. Mulroney’s dice with death.

Within minutes everyone else disappeared into their respective en suites for showers and the house fell quiet. It was the kind of quiet that happens after something absurd. Like our collective nervous systems had shut down to reboot.

Cal and I showered together.

We didn’t talk. We just let the water wash the salt and the sea from our bodies, letting the adrenaline slowly wash away.

I cradled my head against his neck. He kissed me once behind the ear, slow and warm.

I kissed him back and we stood there under the water…

together… letting the world fall away for a moment.

Downstairs, things felt almost normal again.

Leilani was slicing fruit in the kitchen. Rashida was choosing ingredients for cocktails. Mrs. Mulroney was enjoying being waited on as Tilly brought her free-flowing tumblers of whiskey to help her get over her ordeal.

I caught Cal’s eye and gave a small smile. He smiled back.

Things were finally back to normal.

And then we heard it.

We all heard it.

Raised voices.

Coming from out on the patio.

We stepped outside and found Angus and Mr. Banks squared off near the edge of the lawn, glaring at each other like two people who realized they weren’t on the same side anymore.

“I was right there,” Angus said, his voice raised and trembling. “I was there on the water with you. Watching you paddle away. And you said—”

“I didn’t mean it,” Mr. Banks interrupted.

“You said there was nothing waiting for you back on shore.”

“I forget things,” Mr. Banks replied. “I forget what year it is. I forget where I am. It’s not a personal attack.”

“You’re not supposed to forget me !” Angus’s voice cracked. “I’ve always been there. For years. I’m the one who’s always back on shore. For you . I’m your best friend.”

“If you’re my best friend, why aren’t you happy that I’ve finally found love?” Mr. Banks asked point blank.

Suddenly Rashida stepped in. “Boys, boys, boys. Why don’t we take a minute to breathe.”

“I’m not interested in breathing,” Mr. Banks snapped. “I’m interested in knowing why my so-called best friend can’t be happy for me.” He leveled his gaze at Angus and added, “If you can’t let me live my life, you’re no best friend at all.”

Angus shook his head, hurt flashing bright across his face. “And maybe neither are you.”

And with that, Angus stormed toward the nearest hammock and threw himself into it like a man staging a protest nap.

Mr. Banks turned to head for a hammock in the opposite direction. “Good! Maybe now I’ll finally get some peace.”

He took two steps.

Stopped.

And wavered where he stood for a moment too long.

“Mr. Banks?” I asked, fear suddenly gripping my voice.

He didn’t answer.

He simply took two more unsteady steps to the left…

Then collapsed to the ground.

Leilani was the first to sprint toward him.

She was on her knees beside him, already checking his pulse, before the rest of us could even register what was happening .

“Call an ambulance,” she said, loud and clear. “Now! He’s not breathing!”

Cal’s phone was out before she could finish the sentence.

Rashida and I raced to help Leilani.

Tilly stood still, hand over her mouth in shock.

And Angus—oh God, Angus—was frozen in the hammock, eyes wide, breath caught between anger and terror.

Leilani started compressions.

“One, two, three, four…”

Her voice was firm. Her hands steady.

“What can we do? What do we do?” I asked, my voice shaking, a tear streaking down my face.

“I’ll need you to take over in a minute,” Leilani said, calm and in control. “Just let me focus. Count with me.”

And so we did.

“One, two, three, four…” Rashida and I counted with her.

Watching as Leilani fought to save his life.