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

Chapter 182

Chapter 182 This Is The First And Last Time

Ernest sighed, his voice calm but resolute, “Eric’s been out of control lately. Let me talk to him for you.” His sharp gaze met Hadley’s. “Come on, let’s go home.”

Hadley hesitated, but seeing as Ernest had spoken. How could she refuse?

Besides… she couldn’t afford to completely sever ties with Eric just yet–not before she conceived.

Upon turning to Eric, Ernest’s expression hardened. “Eric,” he said firmly, his brows furrowing. “This is the first and last time. Listen carefully–if you make Hadley cry again, I won’t wait for her to come to me. I will step in. And I will make sure to separate you two.” His voice dropped slightly. “Even if Grandma tries to intervene–it won’t change a thing.”

“Emest!”

Eric’s entire body stiffened.

He knew his brother well. Ernest might seem gentle, but when he made a decision—he never wavered. If he

said he’d do something he meant it.

Eric lowered his head, his voice solemn, sincere. “It won’t happen again, Ernest. I promise.”

Ernest studied him for a long moment. Then he gave a slow, measured nod. “Good.”

Without another word, he turned his wheelchair, his decision final.

“Quentin, let’s go.*

Quentin responded immediately. “Yes, sir.”

“Hadley?” Eric’s voice was softer now, tentative, as he reached for her hand. Lifting it gently, he pressed it to

his lips. “Come back with me,” he murmured, his breath warm against her skin. “How can you possibly live like

this?”

Hadley felt something inside her unravel

Exhaustion, thick and overwhelming, settled deep in her bones. She was already fighting injuries, illness–and now, frustration coiled around her chest, squeezing the air from her lungs. Her limbs felt heavy. Her breath

came shallow.

She closed her eyes, too drained to fight. Too weary to resist.

Right now she simply wouldn’t succeed pushing him away. Besides, any second now, Joy would return. And if Eric saw her, everything would fall apart.

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ON

Eric didn’t hesitate. He bent down, his arms slipping beneath her, effortlessly lifting her against him.

“Come on. Let’s go home.”

The moment they stepped outside the building, snow whirled around them in silent waves.

Let me

the air. She thrashed against his hold, struggling

wrong?” he asked, his voice low,

didn’t let go. His hands

him, breathing unevenly. But her gaze? It

he saw him. A short distance away, standing in

Denver’s posture was rigid, his limp more pronounced from the strain of the past few days. But his

are you okay?” he

quivering. Tears welled up, threatening to spill. She knew exactly what

she forced her own lips to move. “I’m fine. Go. Forget me.”

that, she turned

couldn’t keep looking at him because every extra second her eyes lingered on him–would only hurt him more.

his arm, her grip faint but

said quickly, his voice steady despite the

“I’m so cold.”

hesitation, he shrugged off his coat, draping it over her even though she was already wrapped

pulled her close, his warmth

a few more steps,” he murmured, his breath fanning over her forehead. “Once we’re in the car, you’ll be

her to his car. Engines roared to life. One by one, the cars pulled

motionless, watching Hadley disappear into the distance. He knew what she meant. Hadley had said she

warmth, the way he treated her with such

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told himself he should be happy

the snow beneath his feet. A whisper of defeat left his lips, “But what if I can’t

car, Eric sat in silence,

the moment outside. That look Hadley had given Denver. She had never looked at

that.

let go

slowed traffic

an intersection, the car rolled to

the crowded stop. But just as she reached the doors, a surge of

passed. Then another.

“Quentin, drive over

“Yes, sir.”

maneuvered the car toward Elissa’s side and rolled down the window. “Miss Holland, please get in. Mr. Flynn would like to give you a

“Please tell

don’t deliver invitations,” he deadpanned, gesturing to the backseat. “If you want to thank

Elissa blinked. Was that… a demand? Did that mean she

tapped the steering

Mr. Flynn is being nice. Do you want him to get a

kind of twisted logic was that? Yet–for

her breath, Elissa

the car pulled away, unease crept over

beside her, silent, unreadable. Not a word spoken,

Elissa swallowed.

from nerves, while a thin sheen of sweat formed on her back. What was she supposed to

the tension, his gaze

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