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

Chapter 127 He’s Not The

Only One Who’s Worried…

Linda didn’t react, keeping her expression composed, as if she had seen nothing unusual.

“I managed to get back earlier today,” she said smoothly. “How about a walk in the garden?”

Ernest met her gaze and gave a small nod.

Though he still relied on a wheelchair, his condition had improved enough that he could stand with assistance.

Taking a few steps was no longer an impossible task–and he welcomed the challenge.

“Let’s go.”

Without hesitation, Linda stepped behind him, pushing the wheelchair toward the garden.

Later, under the glow of the evening lights, Ernest practiced standing with his walker, his movements steady

but cautious.

Nearby, a servant approached Linda, keeping their voice low. “Miss Harris, the trash has been cleared.”

Linda barely shifted, her gaze still on Ernest as she responded, “Anything unusual?”

The servant hesitated for a fraction of a second before extending something toward her. “Please have a look at

this.”

Turning slightly, Linda reached out and accepted the object. A small, charred fragment–roughly the size of two

knuckles.

She studied it, her fingers brushing over the burned edges. Her brows furrowed.

The fragment in Linda’s hand was small, but telling. A charred corner of a photograph. Though most of it had been lost to the flames, a faint outline remained–what seemed to be a head. The hairstyle suggested it belonged to a girl.

So this was what Ernest was so desperate to destroy….

But why? And who was she?

She masked her thoughts with a calm nod. “That’s all for now. You may leave.”

“Yes, Miss Harris,” the servant responded before quietly stepping away.

Once alone, Linda carefully tucked the fragment away, her expression unreadable.

The date was set.

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Chapter 127 He’s Not The Only One Who’s Worried About Her

This Friday. Eight o’clock.

A prime–time slot–proof of how much Blanche valued this performance. It wasn’t just another show; it was a

statement.

Hadley felt a rush of emotions–excitement, nerves, and the weight of expectation pressing down on her.

This was her first real stage performance. A defining moment. Failure wasn’t an option.

With tickets going on sale that night, Hadley forced herself to sleep early.

Blanche had already reassured her beforehand.

“Don’t stress over ticket sales,” she had said firmly. “Lightning Studio performances always sell out fast. Just focus on your dancing. If the premiere flops–that’s when we’ll have a problem.”

she checked the ticketing website, the numbers spoke

“Wow!”

covered her mouth, overwhelmed by the realization. “This is it. This is the big stage,” she thought. If she couldn’t make a name for herself here… then she would have no one to blame

snapping her out of her

from

performance tickets are sold out!” A blushed,

warmth blooming in her chest. So he was keeping

“Thank you.”

incredible. Break

other end, Denver set his phone down,

a group chat. His fingers hovered for

performance. VIP box tickets. Who’s

hit send, and

course, he had already secured his

first performance? Not an option.

for anything–even buying up any unsold tickets himself if demand had

was more than willing to

underestimated just how high the demand would

the ticketing site like a hawk. The moment the clock struck midnight, he clicked the

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127 He’s Not The Only One

been a frenzy. A battle of speed. In the end, he had barely managed to snag a few VIP box seats. If he had hesitated even a second longer, he might not have

pulling him from his

first to respond. “Hadley’s first stage performance?”

quickly replied, “Yeah. Come

“I’m in, too.”

“Thanks, Marshall.”

about

city, Eric sat at his desk, coffee in hand, his phone screen glowing. His lips curied into a

Barrie’s question. “Alright. Nothing

set, then! Appreciate it, guys!”

set his phone down, his expression as

for a beat before speaking. “Mr. Flynn… most of the employees I reached out to weren’t able to secure tickets. Only

Denver wasn’t the only one worried about

quietly arranged for Flynn Group employees to purchase tickets- his way of ensuring

time they figured out the process, the seats

least bit disappointed. If

eyes.

a brief, knowing glance before speaking. “No problem. Tell them I appreciate the effort. Anyone who

small nod. “Understood, Mr.

turned to leave, a thought lingered in

or was he just

Friday.

was alive with anticipation.

demeanor. Howeve efore heading

from backstage to the main hall, was Denver–holding a large bouquet of roses.

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flowers, and then back to Denver. It wasn’t hard to guess who they were

“Denver!”

in her performance attire, the soft

“Hey, Hadley!”

awkward smile tugged at Denver’s lips as he lifted the bouquet slightly.

out a small

now.

straightened, concern flickering in his

got this. You’re going to