Too Late, Mr. Billionaire: You Can't Afford Me by Thedora Birnir

Chapter 240 The Hunt For

Linda

“Linda!”

In that fleeting moment, Ernest glimpsed the wild frenzy dancing in Linda's eyes,

He swiftly passed little Locke into Nyla’s waiting arms. “Locke, my dear boy, Daddy has surgent matters to

attend to, so you'll stay with your great-grandmother for a spell.”

Turning to Nyla with a heavy heart, Ernest began, “Grandma...”

“No need to explain, child. | understand perfectly.” Nyla reassured him with a knowing nod. “Go on now, dod’s

fret. Locke is safe in my care.”

“Thank you, Grandma!” Ernest's voice carried the weight of gratitude.

“Off with you,” Nyla said warmly, cradling a bewildered Locke in her arms. She softened her tone, soothing the

boy with the tenderness only a great-grandmother could muster. “No need to be frightened, Locke. This is

grown-up business, nothing for you to worry over. Let's head hwith great-grandma, shall we?”

Children had a keen sense for recognizing genuine affection, and Locke could feel the warmth radiating from

Nyla. He gave a small, trusting nod.

“That's my good lad,” Nyla murmured, guiding him gently. “Let's be on our way.”

Linda tore out like a woman possessed, leaping into her car and peeling off into the night without a backward

glance.

The orphanage sat perched atop a hill, and by the tErnest and his men gave chase, Linda had vanished into

the shadows like a ghost in the wind.

That night, Ernest was utterly spent.

His body, still mending from a years-long coma he had only emerged from mere months ago, protested with

every step. His legs throbbed, and a dull ache pulsed in his temples.

Quentin, ever observant, took note of his struggle. “Mr. Flynn, why don’t you head back and catch srest?

Leave the search for Miss Harris to me.”

Ernest's brow knitted together, worry etched deep into his features.

“Even if you find her, Quentin, | fear she won’t cback willingly.”

Quentin couldn't muster a counter to that grim truth.

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Meanwhile, Nyla settled Locke into the car with care. Seeing the strain on her grandson’s face, she approached

Ernest with purpose.

“Ernest, your body can’t handle this strain,” she said firmly. “Cback hwith me.”

“But Grandma...” Ernest began, his voice laced with hesitation.

“No buts,” Nyla interjected, her tone leaving no room for argument. Turning to Quentin, she issued her orders

with the decisiveness of a seasoned matriarch. “Get in touch with Eric Have him chere straightaway- Linda

might not heed your words right now, but she'll listen to Eric.”

Her final words were aimed squarely at Ernest, her gaze steady and resolute

“Grandma.” Ernest hesitated again. “It feels like too much to ask of Eric. It’s late, and this mess is my burden to

bear after all...”

“Don’t you dare talk like that,” Nyla cut in sharply, unwilling to entertain his self-imposed isolation. “You're

brothers, Ernest. And brothers take care of each other. If something happens to you, do you think Eric could

rest easy? Do as | say.”

She shot Quentin a pointed look, her patience thinning. “Well? What are you standing around for? Call him!”

“Yes, Mrs. Flynn!” Quentin replied briskly, snapping into action.

In the wee hours of the morning, somewhere between three and four, when the world lay cloaked in stillness,

Eric was roused from slumber by the insistent trill of his phone. He cast a quick glance at Hadley beside him.

Hadley, ever the light sleeper, was already stirring, though her eyes remained closed. “Answer it outside,” she

mumbled.

“Alright,” Eric whispered, slipping out of the room with the phone pressed to his ear. “Quentin, what's the

matter?”

“Mr. Flynn,” Quentin began, his tone apologetic as he relayed the night's events. “Your brother is running on

fumes, and Mrs. Flynn insisted | call you. I'm sorry to disturb your rest.”

After hearing the tale, Eric rubbed his temples, a weary sigh escaping him.

“I understand. It’s no trouble. I'll head over right away.”

“Much obliged, Mr. Flynn,” Quentin replied.

Eric ended the call and let out a long, burdened breath. For his brother, for Linda, he knew he had to step in.

But the question lingered-how would he explain this to Hadley?

He eased the bedroom door open and perched on the edge of the bed, hesitating before speaking. “Hadley...”

Hadley, still facing away from him, her eyes shut, murmured groggily, “Done with the call? Can we go back to

sleep now? Turn off the light, please—it’s too bright.”

“Hadley.” Eric pressed, his voice tinged with unease, “I need to step out for a bit.”

Hadley’s eyes snapped open, and she rolled over to face Eric, concern flickering across her features. “At this

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hour?”

Spivi TO THE hunt for Linda

“Yes,” Eric admitted, taking her hand gently, his tone soft as a whisper. “It’s Ernest. He is caught in a bit of a

bind.”

“What's happened to him?” Hadley asked, her worry deepening. “Is he unwell?”

“No, it’s not that.” Noticing the concern etched on her face, Eric hurriedly shook his head, offering both comfort

and clarity. “Ernest’s health is holding steady, no need to fret.”

“Then what's troubling him?” Hadley pressed, her brow furrowing as she sought answers. “Isn't the Flynn Group

still under your stewardship?”

Her question hung in the air, leaving Eric momentarily at a loss for words.

He knitted his brows, grappling with how to reply as their gazes locked in a quiet, unspoken exchange.

Then, like a dawn breaking through the fog, Hadley seemed to grasp the truth.

A faint, knowing smile tugged at her lips. “It’s Linda, isn't it?”

Her words were less a question and more a quiet realization, delivered with calm certainty.

Eric’s heart stuttered, his fingers tightening around her hand. “Hadley, I...”

“Go on, then,” Hadley interjected, her voice steady as a still lake. “If they called you this late, it must be

pressing. Don’t linger here explaining-just go.”

“Hadley?” Eric blinked, caught off guard by her composure. “You're not upset?”

“Not in the least.” Hadley offered a gentle smile, shaking her head, before her tone shifted with a sudden

curiosity. “But let's say, just for argument’s sake, | were upset and asked you to stay. Would you?”

Eric froze, his expression a canvas of conflicted emotions, answering more than words ever could.

“Exactly,” Hadley said with a faint smile. “Whether I'm upset or not wouldn't change a thing, so why dwell on

it?”

She slipped her hand from his and gave him a nudge, her touch light but firm. “Go on now. She is waiting.”

“Hadley...” Eric hesitated, searching her face for something-anything-to hold onto.

But Hadley turned her gaze toward the window, her voice cool. “It’s late, and | need my rest. You should get

going.”

Eric studied her profile, sensing the undercurrent of her displeasure beneath her composed exterior.

Yet, he couldn't ignore the call of duty.

“Then... I'll be off.”

“Mm,” Hadley murmured, her smile soft as she nodded in acknowledgment.

Eric rose and moved to the closet to change. When he returned, Hadley had already settled back down, her

back to him once more.

A sudden tightness gripped his chest, an unease he couldn't shake.

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< Chapter 240 The Hunt for Linde

“Hadley, I'm heading out”

“Mm” Hadley’s response was faint, her position unchanged, offering no further words or even a glance his

way

Eric lingered for a heartbeat, hoping for something more, but the silence stretched on.

As he had changed earlier, he had noticed the faint patter of sleet against the window outside.

Bending down, he brushed his fingers gently across Hadley’s cheek. “It’s chilly out there with sleet falling-keep

the blanket tucked around you.”

Hadley’s eyes remained closed, her breathing steady as if she were already drifting into dreams, offering no sign

she had heard him.

“I'm off now,” Eric said again, his voice quieter now.

He hesitated a moment longer before withdrawing his hand and stepping out of the room.

The door clicked shut behind him, and in that instant, Hadley’s eyes fluttered open, her gaze steady and

composed. That had been a close call!

She had nearly let her emotions sway her better judgment.

Tonight, as she prepared the steamed pear for Eric, she had foolishly entertained the notion of building

something lasting between them.

Even if only for a fleeting moment, how could she have let such a naive thought take root?

Thank heavens for that phone call-it had whisked Eric away and snapped her back to reality.

In the car, Eric’s hands clenched the steering wheel, his brow creased with unease, a restless storm brewing in

his chest.

His thoughts swirled around Hadley. What was she doing now? Had she drifted off? Her sleep was always so

light-she simply couldn't fall asleep in mere seconds, could she? So why hadn’t she responded when he left?

He had mentioned the sleet outside, yet she seemed not to hear, not even sparing a simple “Drive safely” as he

departed.

Earlier that evening, when she prepared steamed pear for him just because she noticed his coughs, he had

sensed a closeness blossoming between them.

But just now, it felt as though she had retreated to the starting line, leaving him adrift.

His phone buzzed sharply, pulling him back to reality. It was Linda.

“Linda?” Eric said, gathering his scattered thoughts.

“Eric.” Linda's voice trembled on the other end. “I'm so scared...”

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