The Billionaire's Brat Wants Me Chapter 50: Bribes and Goodbyes

It was the day she was leaving.

That thought hit the second I opened my eyes. The room looked the sa but it felt different. Heavier. Like the air itself knew that by evening, she’d be gone.

For three weeks straight, I’d gotten used to her chaos filling every corner of my space. Her snacks left on my desk, her hoodies thrown carelessly over my chair, her laugh bouncing off the walls like she owned them. My bed slled like her, my mornings started with her, my nights ended with her.

And now I was supposed to wake up tomorrow and not have any of that?

I was still processing when I felt her shift against . Her leg curled tighter over mine, her face burrowing into my chest.

"Mmm," she muttered, voice scratchy from sleep, "nope. Not today. I’m not leaving."

I blinked down at her, already sighing. "Val—"

"No." Her arms locked tighter around . "Don’t ’Val’ . I’m staying. End of discussion."

"You can’t—"

"I can." She peeked one eye open, ssy hair all over her face, and whispered like it was a secret, "Because you’re not strong enough to throw out. Admit it."

I stared at her. She smirked.

"...Get off, Val."

> "Make ."

I exhaled through my nose, trying not to smile. "You’re impossible."

"And irresistible." She tilted her chin up proudly, like she’d just won a battle. Then, slowly—deliberately—her hand slid under the blanket. I stiffened.

"Val."

"Shhh." She kissed my collarbone softly, sweetly, then whispered against my skin, "Let bribe you."

My breath hitched. "Bribe ?"

"Mm-hm." Her hand was dangerously close to where it shouldn’t be. "One last morning special."

I grabbed her wrist under the blanket, but she only laughed, biting her lip like she knew she had cornered.

"Don’t look at like that," I muttered.

"Like what?" she asked innocently, eyes wide. "Like I love you? Like I want you? Like I’m the only girl who can make you weak?"

"...All of the above."

Her grin widened, smug and unrepentant. "So you admit it. You want it. You want ."

I tried to keep my face straight. "You’re not staying."

Her pout was instant. "Why not? You love , right?"

"Yes."

> "And I love you."

"...Yes."

"Then what’s the problem?" She rolled on top of suddenly, straddling , hair falling over her face as she smirked down. "One more round before I go. Or maybe two. Or three. You’ll be too weak to drive to the car after that, so—oops, guess I can’t leave."

I stared at her, torn between laughing and giving in. She was too much. Always too much.

"Val." My voice ca out firr than I expected. "No."

Her smirk faltered. She blinked, then huffed, flopping back onto my chest like I’d just rejected a child begging for candy. "You’re so cruel."

"Maybe."

"Not maybe. Definitely." She poked my cheek with her finger. "Heartless, an, evil, cruel boyfriend who doesn’t let his girlfriend bribe him with sex. Who even does that?!"

I chuckled, brushing her hair out of her face. "Soone who knows you’d never leave otherwise."

She glared at like I’d exposed her entire evil plan. "...Tch."

For a while, we just lay there. Her clinging to , stroking her hair absentmindedly. It felt like if we stayed like that long enough, ti would freeze. But eventually, I sat up.

"Shower," I muttered.

She shot upright like I’d just insulted her. "Without ?"

"Yes. Alone."

Her jaw dropped. "Excuse ?"

"Excused." I swung my legs off the bed.

She scrambled after , grabbing my arm before I could get far. "Wait, wait, wait—what if I join?"

"No."

> "Why not?!"

"Because that’s not a shower. That’s—"

"Love," she cut in sweetly, batting her lashes. "Bonding. Teamwork. Water conservation. Very eco-friendly."

I pinched my nose. "Val."

"Fine." She tugged at my shirt, lower lip jutting out. "Then at least let sit in the bathroom and watch. I’ll be quiet, I promise."

"No, because that will be—"

"History in the making," she cut in quickly, eyes sparkling. "Kai, do you even realize we’ve never showered together? Not once! And you want to leave without experiencing that? That’s criminal."

"...Criminal?"

"Yeah. Like, relationship malpractice." She pressed a hand to her chest, offended. "Other couples do it. It’s a rite of passage. First kiss, first date, first ti... and then—first shower together. It’s practically in the handbook."

I gave her a flat look. "There’s no handbook."

"Because you haven’t written it yet!" She grabbed my wrist, grinning. "Let be your inspiration."

I gave her a flat look. "No."

She gasped dramatically. "You’re rejecting again?!"

"Shower. Alone," I repeated, pulling free from her grip.

Her eyes narrowed dangerously. "You’re making a mistake."

"Am I?"

She crossed her arms, nose in the air. "Huge. When I’m gone, you’ll regret this. You’ll wish you let in there with you. You’ll cry in the shower—ironically alone—and think, ’Wow, I should’ve listened to my perfect girlfriend when I had the chance.’"

I shook my head, suppressing a smile, and closed the bathroom door on her sulky face.

---

The sll of food filled the kitchen, and it only made the ache in my chest worse. She’d been humming while moving around my kitchen, barefoot, wearing my hoodie like she owned the place. Every slice of tomato, every flip of the frying pan, every sprinkle of seasoning was done like she was on so food network show. And ? I sat there at the counter, arms folded, trying to look tougher than I felt, because today was the day she had to leave.

I thought she’d fight harder, honestly. I expected her to flat-out refuse, to pull her usual brat routine and climb like a cat until I gave in. But instead, she was... cheerful. Suspiciously cheerful.

She slid a plate in front of with that too-sweet smile of hers. "Eat, husband," she said, sing-songy, like she was already making fun of .

I narrowed my eyes. "Don’t think this breakfast is going to change anything."

She gasped dramatically, placing a hand over her chest. "Change anything? Excuse , I slaved away in this kitchen purely out of love. Not bribery. Love."

"Bribery."

> "Love."

"Obvious bribery," I deadpanned, even though my mouth watered at the sight of perfectly done eggs, golden toast, and fruit cut into little heart shapes. She cut fruit into hearts.

She slid onto the chair beside , close enough that her thigh brushed mine. "Fine," she admitted, leaning her cheek against her hand, eyes gleaming like the nace she was. "Maybe it’s like... ninety percent bribery, ten percent love. But that’s still a lot of love."

I tried to keep my expression neutral, tried to focus on the food instead of the way she was looking at . "You’re still leaving today."

She pouted, dragging her fork against her plate with a whine. "You say that like you don’t want here. That hurts, Kai. Right here." She pressed the fork against her chest like it was a dagger.

"Don’t twist it," I muttered. "You know I want you here. But if I don’t push you out, you’ll actually never leave."

Her voice dropped lower, dangerous. "What if I told you there’s no underwear under this hoodie?"

I almost choked on my toast. "Val—"

"Eat faster," she interrupted, smirking as her hand brushed my knee under the table. "The sooner you finish, the sooner I can prove it."

"Val." My voice cracked embarrassingly, and her grin widened like she’d just won the lottery.

"See?" She clapped once. "You’re already breaking. Husband, it’s literally your fault if I don’t make it ho today."

I swallowed hard, glaring at her. "You’re not winning this one."

She leaned closer, her voice sing-songy again, "Ohhh, I always win, Kai, always. And honestly, you’d miss too much if I left now. Admit it."

I kept chewing slowly, pretending like she wasn’t right. The truth was, every second she inched closer, every playful nudge, every pout—yeah, I was crumbling. Inside, I was already done for. But outside? I held the line.

Breakfast turned into another round of her shalessly trying to derail . Her legs brushed mine more than necessary. She "accidentally" dropped her fork so she could bend down slowly, giving a view she knew would ruin . Every move was deliberate. Calculated.

And every ti, I forced myself to push back. "Eat your food, Val."

> "I am. You’re the snack, though."

"Val."

> "What? Don’t act like you don’t like it."

By the ti we were done, my plate was clean, but my patience was hanging by a thread. She knew it too—her grin scread victory even though I hadn’t said a word.

Then ca the hardest part. She packed her things. Slowly, too slowly. She clung to at the door, kissed like it was the end of the world, and whined every ti I told her she needed to go.

Finally, she stood by her car, staring at it like if she glared hard enough, it’d vanish. She turned back to , lips pouted, eyes glossy. "I hate you."

"No, you don’t," I said quietly.

She stomped her foot. "I do. Because you’re making leave when I don’t want to. You’re supposed to be my husband, not my warden."

"Val..."

Her voice cracked. "Maybe I won’t call. Or text. Maybe I’ll just... disappear. And you’ll miss , and it’ll be all your fault."

My chest tightened, but I forced myself to stay firm. "...Car. Now."

She froze, lips parting. Then slowly—so slowly—her pout twisted into a smirk. "Look at you," she teased, even though her eyes were shining with unshed tears. "Getting bold."

I didn’t answer. I just opened the driver’s door for her and waited.

She stared at another long mont before sighing dramatically, sliding in, and muttering under her breath, "You’re lucky you’re cute."

The engine purred to life. She stuck her head out the window one last ti, shouting, "I still hate you!" before driving off.

I stood there until her car disappeared.

And then... only then did I let myself exhale.

---

To be continued...