The Billionaire Vanished With Forty-Seven Dollars to Find a Woman Who Would Love Him Poor, but the Woman He Found Was Hiding a Secret of Her Own
Chapter 3
Nathan’s third week in Bellwood began with a broken refrigerator.
The produce market had received a shipment of damaged equipment, and Hank asked Nathan to help move it into storage.
By noon, Nathan’s shirt was soaked through.
“You’re getting stronger,” Hank said.
Nathan laughed.
“Or more desperate.”
“Same thing.”
That evening, Nathan went to Maggie’s.
Elena wasn’t there.
Emma sat alone in a booth.
“Where’s your mom?”
“Hospital.”
Nathan immediately sat.
“What happened?”
“She cut her hand.”
“Is she okay?”
Emma nodded.
“She said she’s fine.”
Nathan looked relieved.
“Do you need a ride?”
Emma hesitated.
“Mom said not to get rides from strangers.”
Nathan smiled.
“Fair rule.”
A nurse entered the diner.
She handed Emma a note.
“Elena will be back tomorrow.”
Nathan waited until Emma had finished her homework.
He walked her home.
The house was small, white, and surrounded by wildflowers.
Elena opened the door.
Her hand was bandaged.
“You didn’t have to walk her.”
“I know.”
She smiled.
“Thank you.”
Nathan looked at her.
“How’s your hand?”
“Fine.”
“You always say fine.”
“Because I’m usually fine.”
He smiled.
Emma appeared behind her.
“Nate can stay for dinner.”
Elena looked at Nathan.
He shrugged.
“If that’s okay.”
She smiled.
“Fine.”
Dinner was simple.
Pasta.
Salad.
Cheap bread.
Nathan enjoyed every bite.
Emma talked constantly.
School.
Her teacher.
A science project.
A dog she wanted.
Then she asked:
“Nate, are you married?”
Nathan almost choked.
“No.”
“Girlfriend?”
“No.”
“Why?”
Elena laughed.
“Emma.”
“What?”
Nathan smiled.
“I was with someone.”
“Did you love her?”
Nathan looked at Elena.
“I’m not sure.”
Elena’s expression changed.
“Why not?”
“Because I think she loved something else.”
“What?”
“What I represented.”
Elena lowered her eyes.
“That’s a painful lesson.”
“It is.”
Emma continued eating.
Then she said:
“My mom says people should love you when you’re broke.”
Nathan looked at Elena.
“You tell her that?”
“All the time.”
Nathan smiled.
“She’s right.”
After dinner, Nathan helped wash dishes.
Elena stood beside him.
“You’re different.”
“How?”
“You don’t act like you’re waiting for something.”
Nathan laughed.
“I’m waiting for payday.”
She smiled.
For a moment, neither spoke.
The silence felt comfortable.
Then Elena’s phone rang.
She looked at the screen.
Her face went pale.
Nathan noticed.
“Who is it?”
“No one.”
She rejected the call.
A second later, another call came.
Same number.
She turned the phone face down.
“Everything okay?”
“Yes.”
Nathan didn’t believe her.
But he didn’t push.
Later that night, he walked home.
Halfway there, he noticed a black sedan parked across from Elena’s house.
The windows were tinted.
The engine was running.
Nathan stopped.
The vehicle pulled away.
He memorized the license plate.
The next morning, he asked Hank if anyone had been asking about him.
Hank laughed.
“Why?”
“Just curious.”
“No.”
But that afternoon, Nathan found an envelope under his rented room door.
Inside was a single photograph.
It showed him standing outside Maggie’s.
The photograph had been taken from across the street.
On the back were six words:
You should have stayed in New York.
Nathan stared at it.
His first instinct was to call his security team.
Then he remembered.
He had deliberately left them behind.
He called Elena.
She answered immediately.
“What’s wrong?”
“Someone’s watching me.”
Silence.
Then Elena said:
“Where are you?”
“Bellwood.”
“Go somewhere public.”
“Why?”
“Just trust me.”
Nathan heard fear in her voice.
“Elena, what’s happening?”
She whispered:
“They found you.”
Nathan frowned.
“Who?”
Before she could answer, the call ended.
Nathan looked at the photograph again.
Then at the street.
A black sedan turned the corner.
And this time, Nathan recognized the driver.
It was a man he had seen years earlier outside his father’s office.
A man who had worked for Edward Cole.
Nathan’s father had always called him a fixer.
His name was Victor Shaw.
And Victor was supposed to be dead.
