The Billionaire's Brat Wants Me Chapter 84: Unticked Boxes

Saturday mornings were supposed to be quiet. Peaceful. But sohow my brain didn’t get the mo.

I woke first, blinking against the thin slice of sunlight cutting across the curtains, and the first thing I saw was her.

Celestia.

Fast asleep, curled toward like she belonged there, hair scattered everywhere in a ss of dark brown silk against my pillow.

I should’ve gone back to sleep. Or at least shut my eyes for another hour and pretended I was normal, but no. Instead, I just... stared.

Because the truth was, she looked too peaceful. So peaceful it almost scared . Like one wrong move would shatter it.

And a dumb thought snuck in — one I couldn’t stop once it started.

If I could freeze ti like this, I would. If she could stay this still, this safe, this... her—forever—I’d take it.

Except, if she never woke up, that’d an she was... yeah. Dead.

Not ideal.

So, okay, maybe not forever. Just... a little longer.

I dragged a hand over my face, quietly groaning at myself. Who thinks like that first thing in the morning? Apparently .

I reached out carefully, my fingers brushing away a strand of hair that had fallen over her cheek. I just wanted to see her face clearer, the way her lips parted slightly in sleep, her lashes too long for their own good.

But of course, because my life is cursed, that tiny movent was all it took.

Her nose twitched. Her lashes fluttered. And then those sharp, knowing eyes blinked open, locking straight on .

Busted.

"Morning, husband," she murmured, voice cracked and husky from sleep — the kind of voice that could knock years off my life if I let it.

I swallowed. "Morning, babe."

That got a slow, sleepy grin, like I’d just given her dessert for breakfast.

"You’re still going with that, huh?" she teased, stretching her arms above her head before tucking herself back against the pillow.

"Of course," I said, shrugging like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Her grin widened, her voice still low, playful. "Mm. Cute."

I rolled my eyes, but my mouth tugged upward anyway. "Glad you approve."

She rolled onto her side, facing completely now, hair falling over her shoulder. "So, husband, what are we doing today?"

I chuckled under my breath. "First? A bath. I feel like I got hit by a truck."

She tilted her head, pretending to think, and then — too casually — asked, "Can I join you?"

I choked on nothing. "Wh—no. Absolutely not."

Her pout was instant, practiced. "Please?"

"Val..." I dragged a hand down my face, praying for strength.

She scooted closer, still pouting, lower lip jutting out like she’d been rehearsing it in the mirror. "But you called babe."

"That has nothing to do with—"

"It does," she interrupted smoothly, eyes glinting with mischief. "You can’t call babe and then not let join you. That’s, like, illegal in girlfriend-wife law."

"Girlfriend-wife law isn’t real."

"It’s real," she insisted, nodding firmly. "I made it up just now. And I’m a genius, so it counts."

I shook my head, trying not to laugh, because of course she’d play it like that. "Still no."

She sighed dramatically, collapsing back against the pillow with a hand over her forehead like a tragic heroine. "Wow. Cold. Heartless. I was sad last night, you know."

That pulled up short. My chest tightened instantly at the reminder.

She peeked at through her lashes, voice soft but loaded. "And this would make feel much better..."

Classic Val. Blackmail with a smile.

I stared at her for a long second, torn between laughing and groaning. "You’re impossible."

Her pout lted into that mischievous grin I knew too well. "And you love for it."

"Debatable."

She gasped, clutching her chest. "Rude! After everything I’ve been through?"

"You’re weaponizing your sadness."

> "I’m resourceful."

"Manipulative."

"Adorable," she countered without missing a beat.

I sighed, defeated already, because she wasn’t wrong. "You’re going to get killed one day."

She rolled closer until her nose almost brushed mine, her grin softer now, less teasing. "Worth it."

And that was the problem.

Because she really was.

---

So yes, I let her.

And no, I’m not going to tell you exactly how that went. Just know it was... an experience. The kind that fried every last one of my brain cells. The kind where I maybe almost passed out twice, and that’s saying sothing considering we’ve had plenty of sex. Still—first ti having a bath with a girl? Not exactly the type of mont I was prepared for.

Let’s just say: I survived. Barely.

By the ti lunch rolled around, I thought things would settle, that maybe normalcy would find its way back into the apartnt. But Celestia had other plans.

She sat at the dining table, chin propped against one hand, poking lazily at her plate with a fork. Duchess weaved between her ankles, tail flicking hopefully for scraps that weren’t coming.

I watched her for a few minutes, frowning. She was moving her food around more than she was eating it. Again.

"Val," I said quietly, a little sharper than I ant to. "You haven’t really been eating well. All week."

She blinked at , feigning innocence. "I have. I’m fine. Just... no appetite, that’s all."

I narrowed my eyes. "No appetite? You? Co on. You’re almost always hungry. And sohow, you never get fat."

She tried to hide a smile behind her fork but failed. "Are you calling a pig?"

I exhaled through my nose. "I’m saying I know you. This isn’t you."

She twirled the fork half-heartedly, then muttered, "The food just isn’t that sweet today."

That earned her a disbelieving look. "You’re seriously saying your legendary cooking suddenly isn’t good?"

Her gaze dropped to the plate, the silence answer enough.

I sighed, leaning back in my chair. "Val... I know you’re not exactly happy about... well, everything that’s been going on. But still. You should eat. Don’t punish yourself like this."

She let out a long breath, then, softer, "Fine."

But the way she said it didn’t sound like agreent—it sounded like... surrender.

And then, because she’s Celestia Valentina Moreau and nothing stays heavy with her for long, she perked right up, her lips curving into a grin. She stretched her fork out across the table toward . "Feed , then."

I stared at her. "Seriously?"

"Mm-hm." She leaned her cheek into her palm, eyes sparkling with mischief. "I can already tell you’ll let do almost anything today, so why not this? Might as well start checking things off my list."

My brows furrowed. "Your... list?"

"You know," she said, all faux casual. "Things I’ve always wanted to do with my boyfriend. This is one of them."

Her grin widened when my frown deepened.

The ache hit harder than I expected. How long had she been carrying this list around in her head? How many things had she tucked away quietly, not asking for, because she didn’t want to seem too much—more demanding, more needy, more Celestia than she already thought she was allowed to be?

I didn’t say it, but it stung.

So instead, I grabbed her fork with a resigned sigh. "Fine. Open up."

She bead, mouth opening with exaggerated innocence. And sohow, that smile—the simple, childish joy of it—made feel both happy and devastatingly sad at the sa ti.

I gave her the bite, and she chewed with a hum, leaning back in her chair like she’d won a prize.

"See?" she said after swallowing. "Not that hard. You should listen to more often."

I smirked. "Dangerous advice. I’d probably be dead within a week."

"Or happier than ever," she countered smoothly, pointing her fork at .

I rolled my eyes, but my chest was warm anyway. "Alright, then. What else do you want to do?"

Her chewing slowed. "Hm?"

"I can tell," I said, eting her gaze. "There’s a lot of unticked boxes on that list of yours. Things you’ve wanted. So... what else?"

Her expression flickered—surprise first, then delight, like I’d just offered her the world.

"Are you sure?" she asked softly.

And that was the problem. Of course I wasn’t. This was Celestia Valentina Moreau, queen of insane ideas, the kind of girl who could terrify and turn on in the sa breath. But looking at her now, at the way her eyes lit up just at the possibility, I nodded anyway. "Yeah. I’m sure."

Her lips curved, teasing. "Liar."

"Excuse ?"

> "You’re just trying to make happy."

I tilted my head. "Is that a bad thing?"

That caught her off guard. For a mont, the mischief fell away, leaving sothing softer, gentler. She lowered her fork, her smile small but genuine.

"You really don’t have to try too hard, Kai," she whispered. "I’m happy just being here. With you. That’s... more than you can imagine."

The words landed like a weight in my chest. Heavy. Beautiful.

And maybe too much.

I wanted to tell her I did imagine it. That I imagined it every day, every ti she smiled like that, every ti she leaned into like I was her ho. But before I could say anything, she ruined it in true Celestia fashion.

"Still," she added, perking right back up, "since you’re offering... I’ll make a longer list tonight. Better stock up on snacks. And maybe rope in Duchess as a witness."

I groaned, dragging a hand down my face. "What have I done?"

She burst out laughing, bright and unbothered, the sound echoing through the room like sunlight.

And as I watched her laugh, fork still in hand, cheeks still flushed from victory, I couldn’t help the thought that drifted through —quiet but certain:

That after everything she admitted last night, I’d do whatever it took to keep her laughing like this. Because if I could hold onto this sound, this smile, maybe it would be enough to drown out the loneliness she carried so well.

---

To be continued...