Too Late, Mr. Billionaire: You Can't Afford Me by Thedora Birnir

Chapter 99 Candied Hawthorns

“What else was I supposed to do?” Eric replied, his tone laced with a gentle helplessness, though the warmth simmering beneath it hinted at his quiet devotion. “Dancing is her passion. If she can’t twirl and sway, she is a bird with clipped wings. And if she must dance, doesn’t she deserve the cream of the crop–the finest stage to

shine on?”

It was hard to argue with that logic.

Nyla let out a soft sigh, her eyes sparkling with admiration. “You’ve really thought this through, haven’t you?” She squinted at Eric, a playful suspicion flickering in her gaze. “So, you’re truly head over heels for Hadley this time, huh?”

“Grandma,” Eric said, his brow furrowing in genuine bewilderment, “did you honestly think I was just playing

a game?”

Nyla exhaled a slow, measured breath and gave a small nod. “Fair enough. As long as you don’t break Hadley’s heart, I’ll keep my nose out of it. How you sweep her off her feet is your dance to choreograph.”

“Thank you, Grandma.” A faint smile tugged at Eric’s lips, softening his features. “I’m planning to wait until Hadley’s back, and then whisk her off to meet my brother.” His eyes shadowed with a fleeting gloom before he pressed on. “When Linda isn’t around.”

It was no secret that those two women mixed like oil and water.

“Smart move,” Nyla murmured, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial hush. “No matter how things unfold with Hadley, mind you keep your manners with Linda. She has weathered storms aplenty.”

Nyla sighed again, a wistful note threading through her words. “That child she had lost… It has always been a pebble in Linda’s shoe.”

The rest of them might overlook Hadley’s missteps, but Linda–being the one who had borne the brunt- couldn’t quite let bygones be bygones.

She swore she had moved on, but Eric could see the truth lurking in her eyes; resentment still smoldered beneath the surface.

“I get it, Grandma,” Eric replied, his face shadowing briefly. His voice held steady, firm as an oak. “Rest easy- I’ll handle it with care. Now, please, sip your milk before it turns to ice.”

“Very well.”

Beyond the door, Linda froze, her breath catching in her throat as she tiptoed away.

Her face drained of color, her thoughts swirling like leaves in a tempest.

14:23

<

So that was Eric’s grand scheme–blocking Hadley’s job prospects not out of spite, but to nudge her toward

Blanche’s dance troupe?

And now he was plotting to woo her?

Hadn’t he once vowed to despise her forever? Wasn’t it he who’d vowed, with fire in his veins, that forgiveness would never cross her threshold?

the tides

had everything gone off the rails?

days later, Hadley set out

in the troupe, she hadn’t yet been handed a spotlight role. Blanche had dragged her along mostly to get her feet wet–learning the ropes, meeting the crew, and soaking in the rhythm of the operation. Every detail, down to the train tickets, had been

plopped into her seat than

flashed across

voice

friend who knew her better than she could admit. “When do you roll in? I’ll

the office.”

The his office?!

crinkled. “Why?

dangling the mystery like a carrot. “Don’t fret, though. It’s

dance gig Eric had paved

a faint edge of displeasure. “Why turn

peacock’s plume. I only got in

That made sense.

sake. “If you’re set on flying under the radar, I’ll let you call the shots this time.”

“Hadley, do I get a ‘good boy‘ when

of absurd question

14:23

O

<

99 Canded Heathers

finger hit the end

curiosity glinting in her eyes. “Hadley, you alright? You’re pale

drifted to

gesturing vaguely. “Like a ghost

into a faint,

absurd words from Eric–didn’t it feel eerily close

soft chuckle, shaking his head as he stared at the silent

actually hung up on

enough. He wasn’t even miffed–wouldn’t

dove back into the sea of

was due to swing by his older

he breezed past the secretarial office later, he caught the faint hum of chatter and the sight of the staff nibbling on

on, only to pivot abruptly and double back, pausing at one of the cluttered desks.

jolted upright, swiping at her mouth in a fluster before shooting to her feet like a

nod, a rare smile tugging at

turned into a gallery of wide–eyed spectators. The

surely itching to wag. What

taken a shine to this

herself couldn’t help but indulge

Flynn–young, wealthy, and the unspoken

fortune really favor her so boldly?