The Billionaire's Brat Wants Me Chapter 73: Protective Insticts

Sunday. Again.

You’d think Sundays would feel like Sundays, but with Celestia in my house, it never feels like anything normal. If anything, it feels like I’ve been trapped in so eternal fever dream where studying ans fifty percent actual notes and fifty percent Celestia finding new ways to derail my concentration.

And—don’t even get started on Trent.

Yeah, The Cannon. Our school’s golden boy. Sowhere out there right now, he’s probably running plays in his head about how to get Marina to say yes when he finally asks her out. And Marina? The girl I grew up with? Probably doesn’t even have the faintest clue that the star quarterback is lowkey plotting to date her.

And look, it’s not like I’m not defensive or anything. Okay. I am defensive. I’ve known Marina my whole life, and now this guy—who I’ve literally only known for a week—is suddenly acting all earnest about her. Yeah, sure, we’re "friends" now. Whatever that ans. But do I trust him completely? ...Not a chance.

So yeah, here I am. Another Sunday and... You know the drill.

---

We’d been at it for maybe an hour—books open, pens scratching, Celestia humming for no reason except to probably fry my brain—when I finally pushed my chair back.

"I need to pee," I said, standing.

Celestia imdiately looked up from where she was twirling my pen between her fingers. She tilted her head with that mischievous glint in her eyes. "Can I co hold it?"

I froze mid-step. "What—?!"

Her grin was dangerous. "What?" she echoed innocently, blinking way too fast. "You said you were going to pee. I just offered emotional support. Physical, if necessary."

"Val—"

"You heard ," she said casually, twirling my pen like she was asking for a glass of water. "It’s mine anyway. Why shouldn’t I hold it?"

My brain short-circuited. "Wow"

She tilted her head, that grin growing sharper. "What? I’m basically your wife, but then you want to go off and pee alone? Suspicious."

"That’s not—"

"You can’t hide things from , Kai." She leaned forward on her elbows now, eyes gleaming. "Your textbooks, your hoodie, your stupid over-sharpened pencils—and yes, your dick. All mine."

I choked. "You—what the hell—?!"

She shrugged, all mock-innocent. "I’m just saying, as a responsible wife, I should supervise. What if you faint in the bathroom? Or get kidnapped by a toilet monster? Or slip and hit your head on the sink? I’d never forgive myself if my husband perished mid-pee."

I pinched the bridge of my nose. "You’re insane."

She smiled sweetly. "Insanely in love with you."

"Stop."

> "Never."

I groaned, shaking my head as I walked out. Behind , her laughter followed, light and rciless, until I shut the bathroom door just to get a second of peace.

---

When I ca back, she was sprawled across the floor, chin in her palms, staring at the open book like it had personally offended her. She perked up the mont I sat back down.

"You survived!" she chirped.

"Barely," I muttered. Then, before she could start sothing else, I closed my notebook.

Her brows lifted. "Wow. You’re pausing studying? Voluntarily? Is it the end of the world already?"

"Very funny." I gave her a look. "I actually... wanted to ask you sothing."

"Ooh." She rolled onto her side, propping her head on one hand. "Serious face. I like it. Go on, husband."

I hesitated. Then sighed. "What do you think of Trent?"

Her smile widened like she’d been waiting for this all along. She propped her chin in her palm, eyes glinting. "Finally. You broke."

I frowned. "Broke?"

"Mhm." She tapped her temple like she was psychic. "You’ve been sitting there, brooding like Batman, pretending you’re not worried, but I knew this was coming. Took you long enough."

"Val—"

She leaned closer, squinting at . "Wait, let guess. You’ve already mapped out all the ways Trent could secretly be a villain. Double life? Secret engagent? Maybe a spy for a rival school? No, wait—better. He’s actually thirty-five with three kids."

I groaned. "I’m serious."

"So am I," she shot back, grinning. "You don’t care what I think of Trent. You care what I think of Trent with Marina."

My jaw tightened. "Maybe."

"Aha!" She clapped once like she’d just won a prize. "Protective Kai strikes again. You know, for soone who claims he doesn’t ddle, you ddle a lot."

"I don’t ddle," I muttered.

She arched a brow. "Then what do you call this conversation? A casual TED talk?"

I gave her a look. She smirked, victorious.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "Fine, you win. So tell , what do you think of him?"

"Hmm..." She tapped her chin like she was pondering the aning of life. "Trent. The Cannon. The human golden retriever with a jawline sharp enough to cut glass. I think..." Her grin softened into sothing more thoughtful. "...he’s not bad."

"Not bad," I repeated slowly.

"Mhm. I an, he’s not the scheming type. I’d have noticed that imdiately." She gave a sly look. "My instincts are impeccable, you know."

I frowned. "Still. We’ve known him for what, a week? Seven days? That’s not enough to tell what kind of guy he really is."

"Mmm, true." She tilted her head, thoughtful for once. "But think about it. Does he look at Marina like she’s a passing crush? Or does he look at her like she’s the main character?"

I blinked. "...The main character?"

"Yes," she said firmly. "Spotlight. Center stage. Heroine of the story. The way he looks at her—it’s not shallow. It’s focused. Almost dumbly focused."

My brow furrowed. "...And you trust that?"

"I trust what I see." She shrugged. "And what I see isn’t a snake in disguise. He doesn’t flinch at Marina’s sarcasm, doesn’t try to outshine her, doesn’t look at other girls when he thinks no one’s watching. He’s simple, but simple isn’t bad. Sotis simple is exactly what soone needs."

I studied her, trying to pick apart the certainty in her tone. "...You sound like you’ve already made up your mind."

"Oh, I have," she said breezily. Then she jabbed her pen in my direction. "But you haven’t. Because you don’t trust people easily. Especially not people orbiting the people you care about."

I stayed quiet, because she wasn’t wrong.

---

For a mont, silence fell. She watched watching her, and I knew she could see the gears turning in my head.

Then she leaned forward suddenly, squinting at . "Wait. Are you really suspicious of him, or are you just... you know... jealous?"

My jaw dropped. "Jealous?!"

"Mhm." She grinned wickedly. "You’re thinking about another guy too much. Sounds like jealousy to ."

I glared. "I’m not jealous."

> "You so are."

"I’m not."

> "You are."

"Valentina."

"You so are," she sang, poking my chest with her finger. "Not of Trent himself, obviously. But of what he could take away."

My stomach tightened. "Val—"

"Your precious Marina," she cut in smoothly, her voice mock-dramatic. "Your childhood sidekick, your partner in cri, the only one who knows where all your embarrassing secrets are buried." She clasped her hands together like she was narrating a tragic play. "Oh no, what if the golden retriever quarterback swoops in and steals her from you? Poor Kai, abandoned and alone."

I glared. "You’re ridiculous."

"And you’re transparent." She smirked, leaning back like she’d won. "It’s okay, babe. I get it."

I frowned. "Get what?"

"That you don’t like sharing," she said simply, twirling her pen between her fingers. "And honestly? Sa. I don’t share either."

Sothing in her voice made blink. "...aning?"

Her smile turned slow, wicked. "aning if anyone gets too close to you, I’ll make sure they regret it. Even if it’s Marina."

I stared at her. "...You’re joking."

"Am I?" she asked sweetly, tilting her head.

I couldn’t tell. And that was the problem.

She laughed again, collapsing back against the couch. "Relax, husband. You’re overthinking. If Marina likes him, she likes him. If she doesn’t, she doesn’t. It’s not your decision to make."

I exhaled, leaning back. "You always make it sound so simple."

"Because it is." She gave a look. "Don’t forget I beat you three tis in chess. In a row."

I groaned. "Don’t remind ."

She grinned, triumphant. "Point is, you don’t need to worry yourself into an early grave. Trent’s not perfect, but he’s not the type to play gas. And if he ever hurts Marina..." Her eyes flashed, sharp and dangerous. "...I’ll kill him myself."

Sohow, I didn’t doubt her.

---

After a beat, I tilted my head. "How did you and Marina even beco friends?"

Celestia’s smile flickered, then curved into sothing sly. "Why? You jealous?"

"I just..." I hesitated. "...I thought you didn’t like other girls."

She smirked. "Correction—I don’t like other girls around you."

I blinked.

She leaned in, her nose almost brushing mine. "But Marina’s not just so other girl, is she? She’s your friend. Your childhood friend. That makes her different."

My chest tightened. She said it so simply, like it was obvious. Like it was already decided.

And I didn’t know what to say, so I didn’t.

I just sat there, watching as Celestia picked up her pen again and twirled it between her fingers, like she hadn’t just casually rewritten the definition of friendship in front of .

And yeah. Maybe she was unhinged. Maybe she was crazy. Maybe she was the most terrifying girl I’d ever t.

But she was also... right.

As always.

---

To be continued...