My Ruthless Billionaire and I

RAINORA.

I trudged down the narrow dirty street leading to our cramped old house, my chest tight with

humiliation. It still burned in my cheeks as I recalled the store clerk's impatient sigh, the murmurs of

those behind me in line, and the pointed judgmental stares that followed me as my card had declined.

"I'm sorry, ma'am," he said, his voice even. "Your card's been rejected."

My stomach had dropped as I frantically tried to explain, "Can you rerun it? There must be a

mistake."

The clerk obliged, but the result was the same. Insufficient funds. I'd place back the foodstuffs one by

one- milk, bread, eggs, rice- until only Arin's medication remained. Clenching my jaw, I handed over the

few crumpled bills I could scrounge from my purse and left the store, not holding anyone's gaze.

Now, as I stepped onto the creaky wooden porch of our house, a wave of guilt, shame, and helplessness

washed over me.

The old house had weathered over time, its paint peeling off and clinging to the wood. The front

door stuck as I pushed it open, groaning on its rusted hinges. Inside, the living room was meagerly

furnished: a threadbare couch, a small coffee table riddled with scratches, and a faded rug that had seen

better days.

"Rain?" Mom's tired voice called from the bedroom. "Is that you?"

"Yes, Mom," I replied, hurrying toward the room.

Mom was bent over Arin, my 12-year-old brother, who lay on the thin mattress. His face was pale and

ashy, and his breaths came in wheezing gasps. My heart clenched at the sight.

"Did you get it?" Mom asked, her voice shaky.

I nodded and quickly retrieved the medicine from my bag. We were able to administer the drugs.

Moments later, Arin's breathing eased, and color slowly returned to his cheeks.

I released a breath I hadn't realized I was holding, my shoulder sagging in relief. "He's okay," I

whispered.

Mom smoothed Arin's hair, her hand trembling. "Thank God."

We stayed by his side a moment longer, ensuring he was stable. When his breathing evened out, I

laid a light blanket over him.

"We should give him some privacy," I murmured, ushering Mom toward the living room.

The two of us sat on the couch, its springs groaning under our weight. I leaned forward, my elbows on

my knees.

"Mom," I said hesitantly, keeping my voice low. "That was the last of my money."Mom's lips pressed into a thin line. She looked away, blinking rapidly. "I don't know what we'll do. His

next treatment...And food." Her voice broke.

I reached out, taking her hand. "I'll handle it," I said firmly, though uncertainty gnawed at me.

Mom gave me a weary smile. "You've already done so much, Rain. You shouldn't have to carry all this."

I shook my head. "We're in this together. I'll find a way."

Before she could protest, I rose and walked back to Arin's room. He was propped up on his elbows,

tapping away on his ratty old laptop.

"How're you feeling, buddy?" I asked softly, leaning against the doorframe.

Arin looked up, his dark eyes exhausted but awake. "Better." He snapped the screen of his laptop down,

attempting to be nonchalant about it.

I raised an eyebrow. "What're you up to?"

"Just...stuff," he mumbled, not looking at me, his shoulders tight. I decided not to push. Teen crushes

and all.

I chuckled softly, deciding not to push. "Alright. Let me know if you need anything. "Thanks, Rain," he

said, his voice little yet appreciative.

I stepped out and swung the door shut behind me. Walking to the kitchen, I dropped my weight into one

of the chairs and yanked out my phone. A whole lotta scratches marred the screen now, and one name

called my attention among the contacts. Eunice. The very last resort or we're toasted, this time, well and

good.

Taking a deep breath, I jabbed at the call icon. Ringing twice, a bright, perky voice replied. "Rain! It's

been ages!" Eunice exclaimed.

"Hey, Eunice." My voice quivered slightly. "Yeah, it has."

"How're things over there? Still in—what's the name of that town again?"

"Still in lil' ole Westbridge," I replied, forcing a smile though Eunice could not see me. "Listen, Eunice, I

need a favor."

There was a pause. "Sure. What's going on?"

I explained the situation—Arin's illness, the mounting bills, the lack of money. By the time I was through,

my voice was barely above a whisper, and shame settled heavy inside. Eunice and I were the same age. And

she was settled, working some huge white collar job, and I. I wasn't anything.

"I hate to ask, but. Could you lend me some money? I'll pay you back, I swear."

Eunice was quiet for a moment. "Rainora, you don't have to pay me back. You know that, right?"

My eyes stung. "I can't just take-"Shush," Eunice interrupted softly. "Here's what we'll do. I'll buy you a plane ticket to New York. You can

stay with me until you get on your feet. I'll help you find a job."

My breath hitched. "What? Eunice, that's. I can't ask you to"

"You're not asking," Eunice said firmly. "I'm offering. And you're taking it. No arguments."

I wiped at my eyes, a shaky laugh of disbelief escaping me. "Thank you. I don't know what to say."

"Say you'll pack your bags as soon as I call back with the details," Eunice replied, light. "I will. Thanks,

Eunice. Really."

"Anytime, Rain. We'll talk soon, okay? Hang in there."

We said our goodbyes, and I hung up. For the first time in years, a flicker of hope bloomed in my chest.

She finished her meager lunch—a slice of bread, a banana, and a glass of water—and told Mom about

Eunice's offer. Mom was relieved, though it was tinged with worry.

"Just be careful, Rain. New York is a big city." "I will, Mom. I promise."

I pecked a kiss on her cheek, bid Arin to sleep, reached for my tattered jacket, and went out. The

night's cool air stroked my skin while I walked through the few blocks that led me to the lowly pub in

which I worked the night shift.

Above the entrance, an eerie neon sign danced with an irritating flutter upon the cracked sidewalk. I

heaved the door open, mentally bracing myself for another endless night.