Dumped My Cheating Ex. Now I'm Sleeping Next to a Billionaire CEO novel Chapter 885

Dean closed the magazine and looked up at her, his dark eyes steady and unreadable.

“Starlight Corporation is still running. Mr. Carter is handling everything. I haven’t touched a dime or moved a thing,” he said.

Emmy’s brow furrowed. She pressed again, “Then give me my phone.”

Dean leaned back against the sofa. There was a cruel little smile at the corner of his mouth.

“Emmy, you need to get real about where we are right now,” he said. “If you stay with me, I can give you anything but money. If you wanted the stars, I’d figure out a way to pull them down for you.”

His eyes sharpened. “But since you want your freedom, since you want to leave me, then I can’t give you anything. Not even money.”

“If you want to go, you leave with nothing.”

He glanced at the backpack on her shoulders. “I bought that bag. The clothes inside too. If you’re leaving, those stay here.”

Emmy stared at him, completely stunned.

There was nothing valuable in the bag—just some spare clothes, underwear, a toothbrush. He was doing this on purpose. Pushing her, trying to break her. He wanted her to give in because she had nothing, wanted her to beg, or maybe just run out of options and come crawling back.

Dean’s face was calm, his eyes cold and final. There was no room for arguing.

Emmy bit down on her lip until it went pale. She didn’t want to say a single word more to this man. She definitely didn’t want to bargain with him over things that meant so little. If she waited any longer, she was sure he’d just change the rules again.

“Fine,” she said, her voice sharp as glass.

She yanked the backpack off her shoulders and threw it to the floor.

“Dean, I hope for once you actually keep your word. Don’t mess with my freedom again.”

Without another look, she turned and walked for the door.

She had barely reached the threshold when Dean’s voice followed her.

“One more thing,” he called. “You’re a fugitive now. If you don’t want to get dragged back home and rot in jail, or get spotted and killed by the Nelson family, you’d better keep your head down.”

Emmy walked the length of the main street, scanning the storefronts, until her eyes landed on a tiny electronics repair shop. The sign was old and faded, and the entrance was cluttered with all kinds of busted gadgets and wires.

She took a steadying breath and walked inside.

The owner was a middle-aged man with dark skin, hunched over a half-dismantled phone and muttering under his breath.

“Hey,” Emmy said in the local language. “Are you hiring? I can fix things.”

The owner looked her up and down—a skinny, pale girl in a dress that definitely didn’t belong in a place like this.

He shook his head, waving her off. “Go on, get out of here. I don’t have time for rich girls playing pretend. I’m busy. Don’t waste my time.”

Emmy didn’t move. She stayed right at the counter, eyes fixed on the phone in his hands.

It was a smartphone, totally waterlogged. Part of the motherboard was burnt to a crisp. The owner was trying to solder a chip onto it, but his hands were shaking.

“You can’t just solder that capacitor on,” Emmy said quietly. “The trace on the motherboard’s already broken. If you force it, it’ll short out the second you turn it on.”