The Billionaire's Brat Wants Me Chapter 75: Terms, Not Peace

Silence.

Thick, brittle, loaded silence. The kind that made you feel like even breathing too loud would set off another explosion.

Celestia’s arms still caged from behind, her chin resting on my shoulder like she hadn’t just been told to shut it. Avery stood a step away, her arms now at her sides, expression unreadable but her eyes still sharp as glass.

And ?

Yeah. My heart was still punching against my ribs like it wanted out. I’d muttered under my breath that I hadn’t thought it would work. They hadn’t heard . Thank God.

But it had worked.

And now all eyes were on .

For once, I realized, I had the floor. Not them. .

Celestia shifted behind , like she was gearing up to argue, but my hand ca up and lightly touched hers where they were clasped across my stomach. "No," I said firmly, without looking back. "I an it. Both of you."

The silence stretched, but this ti it bent toward instead of against .

Neither girl moved.

I shifted my weight, trying to make my words stick. "Celestia’s my girlfriend. That’s not up for debate. She has every right to get mad, and I’m not about to tell her she can’t feel that way. She’s with , she matters to , and if she doesn’t like soone getting too close, then yeah, I understand it."

Celestia’s chin lifted a fraction, like she wanted to gloat, but I didn’t let her.

"But—" I pressed on, eting her eyes before cutting to Avery’s. "—that doesn’t an I’m going to sit here and listen to the two of you rip at each other every ti you’re in the sa space. I’m done with that."

Avery tilted her head, studying carefully. "So what then? You’re saying if I want to stick around, I have to... what? Be on her good side?"

"Pretty much," I said bluntly. "You want to be my friend? Then stop trying to win over and start making her trust you. That’s the only way it works."

Avery gave a dry laugh, shaking her head. "That’s impossible. She hates ."

Celestia’s lips curled in a smirk. "Glad we agree on sothing."

I cut in before it could spiral. "Not my problem," I said firmly. "If you’re serious about wanting to be friends, then you figure it out. You don’t go through . You don’t use as the middle ground. You go to her. Or you don’t. Simple as that."

Avery’s eyes narrowed. "You’re asking to do sothing that’s not going to happen."

"I’m not asking," I said. "I’m telling you what it would take. Whether you try or not—that’s on you."

For the first ti, Celestia spoke directly to , her voice quieter but no less sharp. "You do know we’re never going to be friends, right?"

I t her gaze, steady this ti. "Then so be it. I’m not asking you to hold hands and braid each other’s hair. I just don’t want to hear the constant bickering. If you hate her, fine. But I don’t want it bleeding into every conversation I have."

Her eyes flickered, like she wanted to argue but couldn’t find the opening.

Avery folded her arms now, her expression unreadable. "So what—you’re basically saying stay civil or get lost."

"Exactly."

The weight of the word settled between us, thick and final.

Celestia was the first to look away, her jaw tight. Avery’s mouth pressed into a thin line, her cool façade cracked just slightly at the edges.

Neither of them liked it. Not one bit. But neither spoke.

And for once, I realized, that was enough.

Not peace. Not friendship. But terms.

Uncomfortable, uneasy terms—yet the kind that drew a line sharp enough to stand on.

And for now, that was all I needed.

---

The rest of the school day passed without a word about it.

Not from Celestia.

She went back to her usual self—chatting with Marina in the halls, dragging by the wrist between classes, doodling on my notebook margins like nothing had happened that morning. If anyone had been watching, they’d never know she’d nearly gone for Avery’s throat, or that I’d told her to shut it in front of half the campus.

But I knew. I felt the weight of her silence every ti our eyes t, like she was storing sothing up.

So when we finally got back to my place, the second she dropped her bag on the couch and spun to face , I braced myself.

She tilted her head, a sly smile tugging at her lips. "Okay... that was new."

I blinked. "What was?"

She crossed her arms, but there was no heat in it—just mischief. "You. This morning. Mr. ’Don’t know what to do with girls’ suddenly turning into Mr. Authority."

I rubbed the back of my neck. "I an... sobody had to stop you two before the building caught fire."

Her smile widened. "Don’t play it down. You told to shut up. ." She jabbed her finger at her chest like she was still processing it. "Do you know how many people in this entire world would dare to do that?"

"Not many," I admitted.

"Zero," she corrected with mock severity. "The answer is zero. And yet—" She raised a brow. "—you did."

I sighed, but there was a ghost of a smile tugging at my lips. "I can be strict too, you know. When I want to be."

Her laugh bubbled out, bright and amused. "Liar."

"Not a liar," I said, stepping closer, trying not to grin. "I just don’t pull it out all the ti."

"Because you don’t have it in you." She leaned in, eyes gleaming. "You’re too nice. Too soft. My sweet sweet Kai who lets steal all his hoodies and raid his fridge. Strict?" She scoffed playfully. "Please."

I narrowed my eyes, feigning offense. "You think I can’t handle you?"

She smirked. "You can try."

We stood there, the air thick with playful tension, her eyes locked on mine.

I exhaled. "You liked it."

Her lips twitched, and for a mont she tried to play it cool—but then she bit her lower lip, caught. "Maybe."

"Maybe?" I teased.

"Fine." She rolled her eyes, but the pink in her cheeks gave her away. "Yes. I liked it. Happy?"

A laugh escaped , soft but real. "A little."

Her arms unfolded, and she stepped into , looping them lazily around my neck. "Don’t let it go to your head. Just because you grew a spine for five seconds doesn’t an you’re suddenly so bossy boyfriend."

"Bossy boyfriend," I repeated, pretending to weigh the words. "Has a nice ring to it."

She flicked my forehead playfully. "Don’t push it."

I caught her wrist gently, lowering it but not letting go. "Val... I ant it, though. I don’t want to keep watching you and Avery go at each other every ti. I’m not saying you have to like her. But..." I shrugged. "You don’t have to go to war every ti either."

Her smile faltered just a fraction, softening. "You really hated it that much?"

"Yeah." My voice ca out quieter. "I did."

She huffed, pulling her hand back just enough to poke at my chest. "You don’t get it, Kai. I’ll never be friends with her. She’s—ugh—smug, fake, and she looks at you like..." Her nose wrinkled. "Like you’re hers. And I don’t share."

I gave her a look. "You don’t have to share. But maybe—just maybe—you could try not to see her as a villain every five seconds."

Celestia arched a brow, incredulous. "Try? With her? The girl who still thinks she has a chance with you?"

"Yeah," I said simply. "Because the only way it works is if you trust —and if she figures out she can’t get past you. That’s her problem, not mine. Not yours either, unless you let it be."

She opened her mouth, ready to argue, then snapped it shut again. "You’re really asking to give her a chance?"

I t her stare evenly. "I’m asking you to give us peace. Big difference."

She studied , her usual mischief dimming into sothing more thoughtful. Then, with a tiny sigh, she rested her forehead against mine. "You’re lucky I’m in love with you. Because for anyone else, I’d never listen."

I smiled, the tension in my chest easing as I wrapped my arms around her waist. "I’ll take lucky."

We stayed like that for a mont, her hair brushing my cheek, her breathing steady against .

Then she murmured, half-teasing again, "Still think you can be strict with ?"

"Yeah." I smirked. "Want to prove it?"

She leaned back just enough to et my eyes, her grin wicked. "Careful, Kai. You might like the monster you wake up."

For the first ti in a long while, I didn’t back down. "Good. I already like her."

Her laughter rang out, bright and sweet, filling the room in a way that made every bit of the morning worth it.

I didn’t even think about it—I caught her wrist again, tugging her closer until she toppled lightly against on the couch, her hair falling like a curtain around us. She gasped, more surprised than anything, but the sparkle in her eyes told she wasn’t complaining.

"Kai..." she whispered, pretending to sound warning, but her smirk betrayed her.

"What?" I murmured, leaning close enough that my nose brushed her cheek. "Too strict for you?"

Her lips curved dangerously. "Not even close."

I kissed her then—quick, testing—but she was the one who deepened it, fingers curling into my shirt as if daring to keep that backbone I’d just discovered. My hand slid up her back, holding her against , and for a second, the world blurred into just the sound of her breath and the warmth of her mouth.

And I thought to myself, maybe... I was finally becoming the man she already believed I could be.

---

To be continued...