Reborn Heiress: Escaping My Contract Marriage with the Cold CEO Chapter 78: The Flaky Type

LENA GARRETT

The mont the car door shut behind , I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. My fingers curled into the leather seat, my pulse still hamring from the way Raine Belmont had looked at —like I was a puzzle he couldn’t wait to solve.

Idiot.

I shouldn’t have given him my number.

The driver—so silent, suited man Vanessa had summoned with a snap of her fingers—didn’t speak as the car glided through the city’s neon-lit streets. The tinted windows turned the world outside into a blur of color, the sa way my thoughts were spinning.

Research. That’s all this is.

But Raine’s smirk, the way his fingers had danced over the piano keys like he was used to getting exactly what he wanted—it had thrown off. I wasn’t here to flirt with so rich boy playing at being charming. I was here because the Belmonts had secrets, and secrets had a way of burying people.

My phone buzzed in my clutch.

I didn’t need to look to know who it was.

I looked anyway.

Unknown Number:So. Journalist, huh?

I rolled my eyes. Of course he’d text the second I left.

:You don’t waste ti.

Raine:Life’s short. Also, you left before I could ask the important question.

:Which is?

Raine:Are you going to write a scathing exposé about the terrible champagne selection? Because I have notes.

A laugh almost escaped before I caught myself. I bit my lip, fingers hovering over the screen.

:I’m more concerned about the guest list. Half of them belong in white-collar prison.

Raine:Ouch. Accurate, but ouch.

The car slowed to a stop outside my apartnt—a tiny, overpriced box of a place that definitely didn’t belong in the sa universe as the Belmont estate. The driver didn’t ask if I needed help. Didn’t even glance at in the rearview mirror. Just waited, silent, until I stepped out.

The night air was cold against my skin, a welco contrast to the stifling opulence of the party. I didn’t look back as the car pulled away.

My phone buzzed again.

Raine:You never told your last na.

I hesitated at the door to my building.

:You never asked.

Raine:Lena...?

I could almost hear the teasing lilt in his voice, the sa one that had made my stomach do sothing stupid when he’d leaned in too close.

:Goodnight, Raine.

I didn’t wait for a response before shoving my phone into my pocket and heading inside.

Sleep didn’t co easy.

Every ti I closed my eyes, I saw it—the way Raine’s fingers had brushed mine when he handed the champagne. The way he’d looked at when he said, You’re adorable. Like he ant it.

Stop.

I rolled over, glaring at the ceiling. This wasn’t so rom-com. Raine Belmont wasn’t the charming prince. He was the grandson of a man who’d built an empire on broken backs and buried scandals. And I—

My phone buzzed on the nightstand.

I grabbed it.

Raine:Can’t sleep.

I groaned.

:It’s 2 AM.

Raine:Exactly. Too early for bed, too late to call room service.

:You’re ridiculous.

Raine:And yet you’re still texting .

Damn him.

I sat up, running a hand through my hair. The glow of the screen was the only light in the room, casting long shadows.

:What do you want, Raine?

The typing bubbles appeared. Disappeared. Appeared again.

Raine:The truth.

My breath caught.

Raine:You said you were researching my family. Why?

I chewed my lip. This was dangerous. If he was testing , if he was trying to figure out how much I knew—

:Not all stories have happy endings.

Raine:Try .

I exhaled slowly.

:Your grandfather’s company. The deals in Jakarta. The factory fire.

The bubbles stopped.

For a long mont, there was nothing. Then—

Raine:et tomorrow. No party, no gas. Just talk.

I should’ve said no. Should’ve ignored him, blocked the number, buried myself in research where things made sense.

But the part of that had spent years chasing ghosts—the part that never let go—wanted answers.

:Where?

Raine:The old pier. Noon.

I stared at the ssage. The pier was public. Neutral ground.

:Fine.

Raine:Bring coffee. I take mine black.

I rolled my eyes.

:Not happening.

Raine:Worth a shot.

A pause. Then—

Raine:Goodnight, Lena.

I didn’t answer.

But for the first ti all night, I slept.

***|***|***|***|***

LENA GARRETT

The pier was crowded.

Tourists snapped photos, kids chased seagulls, and the salty breeze carried the scent of fried food from nearby vendors. I clutched my iced coffee like a lifeline, scanning the crowd for Raine.

I spotted him leaning against the railing, sunglasses hiding his eyes, his suit replaced with dark jeans and a loose white shirt. He looked unfairly good in sunlight.

"You ca." He grinned as I approached.

"I said I would."

"Yeah, but you strike as the flaky type."

I scowled. "And you strike as the type who talks too much."

He laughed, pushing off the railing. "So. The factory fire."

Just like that, the lightness vanished.

I took a sip of my coffee, buying ti. "You know what happened."

"I know what the reports said." His voice was quieter now. "Twenty-seven dead. Electrical failure."

I t his gaze. "And you believe that?"

He didn’t answer right away. The wind ruffled his hair, and for a second, he looked younger. Less sure.

"No," he admitted.

My chest tightened.

"Then why are you here?" I asked.

He took a step closer. "Because I think you know sothing I don’t."

The world narrowed to the space between us—the way his fingers twitched like he wanted to reach for , the intensity in his eyes.

This was a bad idea.

But bad ideas had never stopped before.

"Tell , Raine," I said softly. "What do you really want?"

He exhaled, slow. "The sa thing you do."

The truth.

The word hung between us, unspoken.

And for the first ti, I wondered if I’d underestimated him.

If maybe, just maybe, we were on the sa side.