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

Chapter 182 This Is The First And Last Time

Ernest sighed, his voice calm but resolute, “Eric’s been out of control lately. Lettalk to him for you.” His

sharp gaze met Hadley’s. “Con, let's go home.”

Hadley hesitated, but seeing as Ernest had spoken. How could she refuse?

Besides... she couldn't afford to completely sever ties with Eric just yet-not before she conceived.

Upon turning to Eric, Ernest’s expression hardened. “Eric,” he said firmly, his brows furrowing. “This is the first

and last time. Listen carefully-if you make Hadley cry again, | won't wait for her to cto me. | will step in. And

I will make sure to separate you two.” His voice dropped slightly. “Even if Grandma tries to intervene-it won't

change a thing.”

“Emest!”

Eric's entire body stiffened.

He knew his brother well. Ernest might seem gentle, but when he made a decision—he never wavered. If he

said he’d do something he meant it.

Eric lowered his head, his voice solemn, sincere. “It won't happen again, Ernest. | promise.”

Ernest studied him for a long moment. Then he gave a slow, measured nod. “Good.”

Without another word, he turned his wheelchair, his decision final.

“Quentin, let's go.*

Quentin responded immediately. “Yes, sir.”

“Hadley?” Eric's voice was softer now, tentative, as he reached for her hand. Lifting it gently, he pressed it to

his lips. “Cback with me,” he murmured, his breath warm against her skin. “How can you possibly live like

this?”

Hadley felt something inside her unravel

Exhaustion, thick and overwhelming, settled deep in her bones. She was already fighting injuries, illness-and

now, frustration coiled around her chest, squeezing the air from her lungs. Her limbs felt heavy. Her breath

cshallow.

She closed her eyes, too drained to fight. Too weary to resist.

Right now she simply wouldn't succeed pushing him away. Besides, any second now, Joy would return. And if Eric

saw her, everything would fall apart.

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ON

Eric didn’t hesitate. He bent down, his arms slipping beneath her, effortlessly lifting her against him.

“Con. Let's go home.”

The moment they stepped outside the building, snow whirled around them in silent waves.

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“Putdown! Letgo!”

Hadley’s desperate cry sliced through the air. She thrashed against his hold, struggling fiercely.

“What's wrong?” he asked, his voice low, edged with concern.

Reluctantly, he lowered her to the ground-but he didn’t let go. His hands remained firm, anchoring her, holding

her close.

Hadley leaned against him, breathing unevenly. But her gaze? It wasn’t on him.

Eric followed her line of sight. And then he saw him. A short distance away, standing in the snow, was Denver.

The silver-gray luxury car behind him sat with its door wide open. Denver's posture was rigid, his limp more

pronounced from the strain of the past few days. But his eyes weren't on Eric. They were locked onto Hadley.

“Hadley, are you okay?” he mouthed.

Hadley’s lips parted, quivering. Tears welled up, threatening to spill. She knew exactly what he meant.

Swallowing past the lump in her throat, she forced her own lips to move. “I'm fine. Go. Forget me.”

And just like that, she turned away.

She didn’t know if Denver understood, but she couldn't keep looking at him because every extra second her

eyes lingered on him-would only hurt him more.

“Eric.” Hadley’s fingers curled around his arm, her grip faint but urgent.

“I'm here,” Eric said quickly, his voice steady despite the storm inside him.

“I'm so cold.”

At her words, Eric reacted instantly. Without hesitation, he shrugged off his coat, draping it over her even though

she was already wrapped in a blanket.

Then, he pulled her close, his warmth pressing into her.

“Just a few more steps,” he murmured, his breath fanning over her forehead. “Once we're in the car, you'll be

warm. Hang in there.”

His arms remained tight around her, shielding her from the cold as he guided her to his car. Engines roared to

life. One by one, the cars pulled away. Yet-Denver remained frozen in place.

He stood there, motionless, watching Hadley disappear into the distance. He knew what she meant. Hadley had

said she was fine. Should he believe her?

From the way Eric wrapped her in warmth, the way he treated her with such care-It had to be true.

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Denver told himself he should be happy for her.

Yet, as the last traces of her car vanished from view, his gaze dropped to the snow beneath his feet. A whisper of

defeat left his lips, “But what if | can’t forget you?”

Inside the car, Eric sat in silence, holding Hadley close.

His mind replayed the moment outside. That look Hadley had given Denver. She had never looked at him like

that.

Hadley... She still hadn't let go of Denver.

The heavy snowfall slowed traffic to a crawl.

At an intersection, the car rolled to a stop.

Inside the car, Ernest glanced out the window-his gaze catching on a familiar figure. Elissa was rushing toward

the bus, weaving through the crowded stop. But just as she reached the doors, a surge of passengers shoved

past her and in the blink of an eye, the bus pulled away, leaving her behind.

A second passed. Then another.

Ernest exhaled sharply. “Quentin, drive over there.”

“Yes, sir.”

Quentin maneuvered the car toward Elissa’s side and rolled down the window. “Miss Holland, please get in. Mr.

Flynn would like to give you a ride.”

Elissa froze. Then, quickly, she shook her head. “Please tell him | appreciate it, but no thanks!”

Quentin arched a brow. “I'm not your messenger, and | don’t deliver invitations,” he deadpanned, gesturing to

the backseat. “If you want to thank him, say it yourself.”

Huh? Elissa blinked. Was that... a demand? Did that mean she actually didn’t have a choice?

Quentin tapped the steering wheel impatiently.

“Hurry up. This is a bus lane-we can’t exactly park here. Mr. Flynn is being nice. Do you want him to get a

ticket?”

What kind of twisted logic was that? Yet-for sreason, it worked.

Muttering under her breath, Elissa climbed into the car.

As the car pulled away, unease crept over her.

Ernest sat beside her, silent, unreadable. Not a word spoken, yet his presence filled the space.

Elissa swallowed.

Her fingers touched her throat, dry from nerves, while a thin sheen of sweat formed on her back. What was she

supposed to say?

“Where to?” Ernest's voice cut through the tension, his gaze shifting toward her.

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“Umm...” Elissa jolted, startled. “R-Redmarsh.”

Ernest gave a curt nod. “Did you hear that?” he asked Quentin.

“Loud and clear, Mr. Flynn.”

“Good.”

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And just like that, silence fell again.

Elissa sat rigidly, spine straight as a board, feeling like a schoolgirl under watchful eyes. Finally, they arrived and

the car slowed to a stop.

“This is me-thank you for the ride!” she blurted, hastily pushing the door open.

Before anyone could say more, she darted into the complex.

Ernest's eyes followed her retreating figure. Then, his gaze flickered to the surroundings. So... this is where she

lived. In a place like this?

His eyes lingered for a second, taking in the run-down buildings, the aging infrastructure.

Then-just as quickly-he looked away. “Let's go.”

Back at Silver Villas, Eric didn’t hesitate. Bending down, he scooped Hadley into his arms, carrying her from the

garage straight into the master bedroom. Carefully, he laid her on the bed.

“You're running a fever.”

On the way back, he had felt her forehead. It was still burning hot.

“I'll get the doctor...”

“No!” Hadley’s weak fingers grasped his wrist, her grip faint but firm. “Please, | don’t want to take any

medicine.” “Hadley, please don’t fighton this.” Eric’s voice was low, coaxing. “Let the doctor check you out.

If it’s nothing serious, you might not even need medicine. But if it is... | just can’t take that chance.”

Without waiting for another protest, he picked up his phone-dialing the doctor before calling the housekeeper.

Hadley needed rest, warmth, and proper nutrition and Eric would make sure she got all of it.

It wasn’t long before his private doctor arrived.

After a thorough check-up, the doctor gave his assessment. “It’s just a mild fever, brought on by the cold. The

cut isn’t deep-no stitches needed. It’s been cleaned and bandaged, but she’ll have to keep it dry. And also...”

But then-the doctor hesitated. His gaze flickered to Eric, his expression uneasy. “Mr. Flynn... she’s a woman,

after all. Physically, she’s not as strong as a man. In terms of... physical intimacy, you might want to... take it

easy.”

The moment the words left his mouth, cold sweat broke out across his back.

It took everything for him to get those words out.

But not saying it... would have gone against his conscience.

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And Last Time

Clearing his throat again, he reached into his medical kit and pulled out a tube of ointment. With a careful

neutral expression, he extended it to Eric. “Mr. Flynn... you should apply this for her.”

Eric froze. His mind blanked for a moment. What did the doctor mean?

Was it-Was it what he thought it was?

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