All Chapters of BROKEN BILLIONAIRES: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

49 Chapters

21: FOR NOTHING

ADRIAN.Lolette sat in the seat ahead of mine, angled toward the window. She'd been like that since takeoff—staring at the clouds, then down at her phone, then back at the clouds again.We'd said everything that needed saying on the drive to the airport.Now there was just... this. Silence and the dull roar of the engine and two people who had no idea how to exist in the same space anymore.I leaned my head back against the seat and closed my eyes.I was tired.But not as tired as work usually made me. That bone-deep exhaustion from back-to-back board meetings or closing deals that required eighteen hours straight of negotiation and political maneuvering.And it wasn't even just physical. It was mental. Emotional. And lately, social.I opened my eyes and stared at the ceiling of the jet.When I was younger, I couldn't wait to take over Emporio Oil. Couldn't wait to prove myself, to step into my father's shoes, to build something that mattered. The company was legacy. Power. Influence.

22: TOUCH-DOWN

LOLETTE.Los Angeles shouldn't have felt this foreign.I'd lived here for five years. Built a life here. Raised my children here.But sitting in Adrian's rental car as we pulled up to my house, it felt like I was looking at someone else's life through a window.Yellow tape stretched across my front door. Police cars lined the street. Mrs. Bidale from next door stood on her porch with her arms crossed, staring. Probably hadn't moved from that spot since everything went down.I didn't blame her. Ten people had been murdered on this street.The sun was setting, casting everything in that golden California light I used to love. Now it just felt wrong. Too pretty for what had happened here."Lolette."I looked at Adrian. He'd barely spoken since we landed. He’d just driven with white knuckles on the steering wheel. "I'm fine," I said before he could ask."You don't have to—""I'm fine."I got out of the car.The front door opened before we made it halfway up the walk.Fanny.God, she looked

23: FOR THE FIRST TIME

ADRIAN.I stood in the doorway, my hand still on the knob.Two beds. One blue, one green. Bookshelves sagging under the weight of picture books and toy bins. Drawings everywhere—taped to the walls, pinned to a corkboard, one half-finished on a small desk by the window.Stick figures. "Mama" written in wobbly letters. "Russy." "Me."No "Daddy."Of course not.I made myself step inside.The room smelled like them. I didn't even know what that meant until now—that kids had a smell. Something sweet and clean, like soap and sunshine and that indefinable thing that just meant child.My children.The first bed had blue sheets, rumpled like someone had just gotten out. A wooden train sat on the nightstand next to a dinosaur book.Ruslan's.The other bed was green. Neater. The blanket pulled up almost to the pillow.On that pillow sat a stuffed tiger.Worn. Loved to death. The fur rubbed thin where small hands had gripped it.Mr. Stripes.I'd seen it in every video. Every photo. Ivan carried t

24: STATUS QUO

ADRIAN.The meeting with the detectives happened in Lolette's dining room.Strange, having a tactical briefing in a space where children ate breakfast. Where Ivan probably spilled juice and Ruslan corrected his table manners.Detective Morris stood at the head of the table, Richard and his team flanking him. Lolette sat across from me, her arms crossed. Lolette’s grandmother hovered near the doorway like a guard dog."Here's where we are," Richard said, his tone clipped and professional. "No physical evidence pulled from the house. Whoever did this was thorough. We're still canvassing the neighborhood, reviewing traffic cams, but so far—nothing."My gaze shifted as Lolette's jaw tightened, her shoulders tensing."Which means," Richard continued, "we need to shift strategy. Ms. Rayne, Mr. Emporio—you're both going back to New York.""What?" Her grandmother stepped forward. "She should stay here. With me. Where she's safe.""With all due respect, Mrs. Rayne, nowhere is safe right now."

25: LONG TIME COMING

LOLETTE. I’d stopped counting the clouds twenty minutes ago.Now I was just staring. Letting my eyes unfocus until everything blurred into nothing.Behind me, Adrian kept typing. Stopping. Typing again. The sound of keys clicking and then silence. Like he was writing emails and deleting them before he could send.Part of me wanted to ask what he was doing. The other part—the bigger part—didn’t have the energy.My phone sat in my lap, screen dark. I’d turned it off after the third time I caught myself opening the photo album. Looking at their faces wasn’t helping. It was just making the hollow space in my chest bigger.Fanny’s face kept replaying in my head. Standing in that doorway as we drove away, arms wrapped around herself like she was trying to hold herself together.She’d looked breakable.Fanny had never looked breakable in her entire life.The typing stopped.I felt Adrian shift in his seat behind me.“Lolette.”I closed my eyes. “What?”Long pause. Long enough that I thought

26: ABSOLUTE TORTURE

LOLETTE.He looked at me.Really looked at me. And I saw something in his eyes that made my breath catch."It would only make things worse," he said quietly.I turned away from him. Looked back toward the window where the clouds stretched endlessly. "You know what? I don't want to hear it.""Lolette—""I mean it, Adrian." I kept my voice flat. "Whatever you're about to say, keep it to yourself."Silence settled between us. Heavy and so, so uncomfortable.I could feel him staring at me. Could practically hear the wheels turning in his head as he tried to figure out what to say next. What magic words would make me look at him again.There weren't any."The past doesn't matter anymore," I said before he could try. "What happened five years ago is irrelevant to what's happening now.""It's not irrelevant—""Yes, it is." I forced myself to turn and face him. Kept my expression neutral. "The only thing that matters is Ruslan and Ivan. Finding them. Bringing them home safe. Everything else

27: THREE DAYS

LOLETTE.And in the fucking silence, with the man who broke my heart sitting across from me, the stupid thoughts began to feast. My hands were shaking in my lap.I clasped them together. Squeezed until my knuckles went white and my fingers started to ache.Was our entire friendship fake?The question sat in my chest like a tumor that grew and spread by the second.All those years. All those late-night phone calls where we'd talk about everything and nothing until the sun came up. All those moments where I thought he actually saw me. Actually cared about the weird adopted girl who didn't fit in anywhere.Had it all been performative?Had I been nothing more than a charity case he tolerated because he felt sorry for me?The poor little Eastwood reject who was so desperate for affection that she'd take whatever scraps he threw her way.God, I'd been pathetic.So starved for someone to care that I'd convinced myself our friendship was real. That he was different from everyone else in my

28: CATASTROPHE

LOLETTE.Security materialized from somewhere.Three men in black suits forming a barrier between us and the chaos. But it wasn't enough. The reporters shoved harder against the barriers, some already climbing over."Move!" One of the security guards shouted.Adrian's hand was still wrapped around mine. His grip tightened as we hit the bottom of the stairs.A reporter broke through the line and thrust a microphone inches from my face. "Ms. Rayne, did you know about Mr. Emporio's engagement when you came to New York?"I jerked back and stumbled.Adrian's arm came around my waist immediately. Solid. Anchoring me to him."Stay with me," he said quietly. "I've got you." His hand spread across my hip, pulling me closer against his side.I'd dealt with press before as fashion events, product launches, Industry conferences.But this was different.How did they know about my children?"How old are the children?""When did you find out you were a father?""Is this about money, Ms. Rayne?"The

29: MORE INCOMING

LOLETTE.I kept staring at the fireplace.Just empty space behind iron bars. Not even lit. My eyes wouldn't leave it, like if I looked long enough I could force my brain to stop playing the airport scene on repeat.The reporters. The cameras. All those questions screamed at us.Is it true the children are yours?Adrian's footsteps kept hitting the same rhythm behind me. Three steps one way, pivot, three steps back. Over and over since we'd gotten to his office.Someone should tell him to sit down. Wearing grooves in the hardwood wasn't going to help us. But I had nothing in me to give right now.At least the sound kept me anchored. Made sure I knew I wasn't sitting here alone."Lolette."I forced my eyes to focus and turned toward him.He'd quit pacing. Now he stood by his desk with both hands gripping the edge, like he'd fall over without something solid to hold."Yeah?""You okay?"Such an absurd question I nearly laughed. Except his eyes had too much genuine worry in them for me to

30: DESPERATE TIMES

FIVE YEARS AGO ADRIAN. Theodore Eastwood’s office sat on the top floor of Eastwood Memorial Hospital. Of course it did. Everything about the man screamed prestige and power. The mahogany desk that probably cost more than most people’s cars. The diplomas lining the walls in expensive frames. The view of Manhattan stretching out behind him like he owned the entire city. I stood in front of that desk with my hands clenched into fists at my sides and tried to remember how to breathe. “Mr. Emporio.” Theodore looked up from whatever paperwork he’d been reviewing when I’d barged past his secretary. He didn’t look surprised to see me. Didn’t look concerned that I’d forced my way into his office at nine at night. “I was wondering when you’d show up.” “You shut down the trials,” I said. “I did.” “My father is dying.” “I’m aware of that.” He set down his pen with careful precision and folded his hands on top of his desk. “I’m very sorry for what your family is going through.” “Then h

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