All Chapters of BILLIONAIRE’S PLAY THING: Chapter 111 - Chapter 120

POV: EthanThe house sounded different without Tyler. It wasn’t just the quiet, it was the kind of silence that hummed, the kind that filled every corner like a low note that wouldn’t fade. Every door seemed to creak louder now, every footstep echoed. Even the hum of the refrigerator felt intrusive, a reminder that the world still went on, even when you wished it wouldn’t.Ethan stood at the stove, stirring a pot of soup he wasn’t really watching. The spoon clinked against the sides, rhythmic, mindless. Behind him, the living room lights cast soft shadows on the wall, the same walls that had once held laughter, music, the occasional argument that always found its way to forgiveness. Now, they just held memory.Dominic was home. Ethan could hear him upstairs, the faint tread of footsteps, the sound of drawers opening and closing. It had been days since they’d really spoken. Not fought, not even argued. Just… not spoken.Ethan tried to pretend things were normal. He went to work, came

Ethan’s POVThe house had settled into a rhythm again, if you could call it that. Not harmony, exactly. More like a quiet truce.Dominic and I lived side by side but not together. Separate bedrooms. Separate routines.No more shouting, no more slammed doors. Just silence that hummed with something unspoken. Every morning, I woke before him. Habit.The clock would hit 6:30, and I’d already be downstairs, waiting for the coffee to brew. The smell filled the kitchen, earthy and grounding. It used to be something we shared, a ritual that meant normalcy. Now it was my peace offering.I started leaving a mug outside his door. No note. No gesture beyond that. Just a quiet thing.At first, he never touched it. The cup would sit there until it went cold, untouched, a reminder that forgiveness wasn’t something I could coax.But I kept doing it. Every morning. And then, one day, it was gone. I stood there for a good thirty seconds, just staring at the empty spot on the floor outside his door. T

Ethan’s POVThe day was warmer than either of us expected, sunlight spilling across the pavement, kids shouting in the distance, a faint smell of coffee and wet concrete. It was just an errand buying a few things for the apartment, restocking the pantry but it felt like something more. Like the world was quietly conspiring to make us remember what it used to feel like to simply exist together.Dominic walked beside me, sleeves rolled up, sunglasses pushed carelessly on top of his head. The breeze ruffled his hair and I had to stop myself from staring. There was something easier about him today, a softness in the way his shoulders weren’t drawn so tight, in how he didn’t keep a strict two-step distance between us anymore.We’d been living like polite strangers, quiet mornings, separate nights, shared air but not much else. But today felt different.“You always buy the same cereal,” I said, tossing a box of cornflakes into our basket.He gave me a side glance. “Because it’s cereal. Yo

Ethan’s POVDinner had become something of a ritual again. Quiet, steady, almost sacred. No grand declarations, no forced attempts at normalcy just two people existing in the same room, trying to remember how to breathe around each other.Dominic sat across from me, the light above the table casting a soft glow over his features. His plate was half-finished, his fork idle against the edge. Once upon a time, I would’ve filled the silence with chatter anything to fill that space that used to feel like rejection. Now, I just let it be.The sound of the city drifted in through the slightly open window: car horns, laughter, the hum of a world still turning outside our slow, delicate bubble. I took another bite of pasta, swallowing quietly before I glanced up. He caught me looking.“What?” he asked, not unkindly.I smiled faintly. “Nothing. Just… it’s nice. Having dinner again.”He hummed in response, a small sound that could’ve meant anything, but it wasn’t cold. His eyes softened for ju

Ethan’s POVIt started with silence. Not the heavy kind that pressed between us before, but the kind that waited. We sat in the living room, the soft hum of the heater filling the space. Outside, rain fell in steady sheets, smudging the world into a blur of gray. I didn’t know what made this night different. Maybe it was the way Dominic looked at me earlier, the ghost of the past few weeks finally softening in his eyes. Maybe it was just time, how it wore down the edges of even the sharpest pain. He sat across from me, hands loosely clasped, his gaze fixed somewhere near the floor. I’d grown used to his silences, but this one felt different. It wasn’t about avoidance anymore. It felt like he was gathering courage.“Dominic,” I said quietly, “we don’t have to talk if you don’t want to.”He looked up then, eyes steady on mine. “I think we do.”I nodded, unsure if I was ready. But I’d promised to stay until he decided he could trust me again, and this felt like the beginning of that d