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

Chapter 126 Cookies

The film cry won't just a hub for showing-It was also a lively tourist attraction, almost like a thpark, packed

with busting food malls and the restible aroma of local snacks.

Hadley Ind Denver to a rate food weet ducked around the corner, her eyes scanning the endless options.

“Sex anything you like?” she asked, glancing up at him

Denver skrugged, hands in his pockets, his forms more on her than the food. Just get whatever you want

Hadley didn’t hesitate. “How about scookies?” she asked with a grin. | know a place where they have the

best cookies”

“A box of cookies, please the then led him to the place and called to the vendor.

“Coming right up

As the warm, freshly baked treats were handed over, Hadley paid and held the box up toward Denver.

Misunderstanding the gesture, Denver instinctively leaned down, taking a quick bite-only to recoil instantly.

“Damn! That's hot!” he winced, his hand flying up to cover his mouth.

He refused to spit it out, though, opting instead to suffer through it.

Hadley burst into laughter, the sight of his frantic, barely-contained reaction too amusing to ignore.

Denver shot her a playful gare. “Are you laughing at me?”

“No, no...”

Hadley pressed her lips together, feigning innocence, though the amusement in her eyes betrayed her. “Is it

“good, though?*

“Yeah,” he murmured, his voice turning softer. Denver's frown melted into a smirk as he finally swallowed.

Sweet. Warm. Just like her.

The next evening at Poseidon’s Realm. Eric and Barrie were engaged in a casual gof pool, having arrived

first.

Before long, Marshall walked in-with Denver trailing behind him.

Eric's gaze flicked toward Denver, brow slightly arching. Why was Denver here?

Shouldn't he be with Hadley? Weren't couples supposed to spend their evenings together?

“Eric. Barrie,” Denver greeted them with his usual calm demeanor as he walked in, and then turned directly to

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Barrie. “Thanks for helping with Hadley’s situation. Do you happen to know what your mom likes? | want to get

her a thank-you gift,”

Barrie blinked, momentarily thrown. “What situation?” he asked, puzzled. “What thank you gift?”

Denver tilted his head slightly. “Hadley was able to return to the dance troupe, thanks to your mother’s help.

Oh!

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Barrie's eyes narrowed slightly in surprise. That was news to him.

His gaze slid toward Eric, but Eric didn’t react.

He lined up his next shot, completely focused on the game, his face impassive.

Barrie didn’t need further explanation. He understood.

A slow, knowing smile tugged at his lips. “Ah, that. It was just a small favor,” Barrie said lightly. “No need to be

so formal about it.”

“But | insist,” Denver replied with an easy smile. “If you won't tell me, I'll just have to figure it out myself.”

“Alright, you win.”

Denver gave a small nod before turning to discuss the matter with Marshall, leaving Barrie alone with Eric.

Barrie took the chance to lean against the pool table, his smirk laced with mischief. “So tell me, Mr. Flynn- doing

good deeds from the shadows now?”

Eric, still focused on his game, didn’t spare him a glance.

“No need for anyone to know it was me.”

Barrie's curiosity deepened. “Ah, so it was you. And letguess-you don’t plan on letting Hadley find out

either?”

“Why would she need to know?”

Barrie raised an eyebrow. “Seems like a waste, doesn’t it? Helping someone without them ever realizing it?”

A chuckle escaped Eric.

Hadley got back to the dance troupe, didn’t she? That was all that mattered.

“What difference would it make if she knew?” Eric lined up his shot, his voice smooth, detached. “Would that

magically make her leave Denver and cback to me?”

That was never going to happen.

Barrie hummed, tapping his cue against the floor. “At the very least, she'd acknowledge what you did for her.

Maybe even see you in a different light.”

Eric exhaled lightly, shaking his head. “I don’t need that.”

Really? Barrie narrowed his gaze, studying his friend like a puzzle he was eager to solve. “Then tell me, Eric—

what do you need?”

Eric didn’t answer, his focus remaining on the table, unwilling to entertain the question.

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“Could it be...” Barrie let the silence stretch before tilting his head with a knowing grin. “Is it that you still can’t

let her go?”

Thud!

Eric’s shot went completely off course, scattering the balls in every direction.

The day Hadley went back into the dance troupe, whispers erupted like wildfire.

“Ms. Nicolson, this isn’t fair! Why is Hadley being allowed back?” Alita’s voice rang the loudest, laced with barely

restrained frustration.

She had been sure the lead dancer role was hers after Hadley was out of the picture.

Now, with Hadley’s sudden return, everything was uncertain again.

“Ms. Nicolson, this goes against the rules you set!”

“Exactly! If rules can be bent for one person, what's the point of having them at all?”

“Yes, this needs an explanation!”

The chorus of dissent grew louder, but Blanche remained composed, as if she had expected this. Her gaze

flickered toward Hadley, who stood calmly by her side.

“In fact, | acted prematurely handling the matter,” Blanche stated smoothly. “Hadley had already signed a

contract with the production team before joining the troupe. Technically, she never broke any rules.”

The room fell into stunned silence.

“What?” Alita blurted out, eyes flashing. “She just says it was before she joined, and that’s supposed to be

enough?”

“If you doubt it,” Hadley said coolly, stepping forward. “I have the contract right here. Feel free to have a look.”

No one spoke, though a few exchanged uneasy glances. The solid proof left them with nothing to argue against.

But Alita refused to back down. “Ms. Nicolson, even if that’s true, she did take on acting roles after joining the

troupe! That is against the rules!”

Blanche didn’t so much as blink. “You're right. That's why I let her leave to finish filming before coming back.”

Her tone was unshaken, deliberate. “I fired her for breaking the rules. Then | rehired her back. Any objections?”

Alita stood frozen, struggling to process what had just happened. Could this really be happening?

Soon, the realization settled in-Blanche was protecting Hadley. The whispers about Hadley having powerful

backing no longer seemed like baseless rumors.

Blanche let her gaze sweep across the room, unwavering. She had bent the rules for Hadley, and she made no

apologies for it.

“You have no reason to feel slighted,” she stated coolly. “When the tcomes, Hadley will show you on stage

exactly why | made this exception.”

Chapter 126 Cookies

Her voice carried such quiet authority that no one dared to argue.

“What are you all still standing around for?” Blanche’s sharp gaze narrowed. “Shouldn’t you be practicing”

A beat of hesitation-then the murmurs began.

“Yeah, back to practice...”

One by one, the dancers dispersed, the protests fading as quickly as they had flared.

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Hadley lingered, her emotions warring between gratitude and guilt. She turned to Blanche, her voice softer than

before. “Ms. Nicolson... I'm sorry for the trouble I've caused.”

Blanche clicked her tongue, waving a hand dismissively. “No need for apologies.” Then her expression turned

sharp. “If you really feel sorry, then just work harder. When you step onto that stage, there is no room for failure-

only success.”

“Yes, Ms. Nicolson,” she said firmly.

Another evening at the Flynn Mansion.

Linda arrived just as Quentin descended the grand staircase, his steps light, his expression unreadable

“Heading out?” she asked, her tone casual but her eyes sharp.

Quentin offered an easy smile. “Yes. Goodbye, Miss Harris.”

“Goodbye.”

As he walked past her, Linda's gaze lingered for a beat before she turned away, a frown forming between her

brows. Why did Quentin keep coming here? What business did he have with Ernest-especially now?

In his current state, Ernest wasn’t in any condition to give orders. And yet, Quentin kept returning to report to

him.

Had Ernest tasked him with something before falling unconscious?

Her mind whirled with questions as she ascended the stairs. Upon reaching Ernest's room, she didn’t bother

knocking. She pushed the door open.

“Ernest?”

The moment she stepped inside, a sharp, acrid scent filled her nose. Burning.

“Ernest, what are you-"

She barely finished the sentence before her gaze landed on him, seated near an ashtray, his hands moving in a

rush.

Something smoldered between his fingers-a small, card-like object curling at the edges as flames consumed it.

His grip was unsteady, and in his haste to discard it, the fire licked dangerously close to his skin.

“Careful!”

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Linda darted forward, instinctively grabbing his wrist before he could burn br

“Are you alright Ernest? Did you get burned?*

Ernest stiffened under her touch, but then shook his head, brushing off her comments

But his eyes flickered back to the ashtray. The card-whatever it had been-was now noth

remains. His tense shoulders relaxed, his features smoothing out

Too Late, Mr. Billionaire: You Can't AffordNow