The Billionaire's Secret

Chapter 05

"Why don't I drop you off first? It's pretty much on the way," Grace Li suggested.

Aiden Thompson glanced over and asked, "Where do you live?"

"Greenview Apartments."

Aiden punched the address into the car's navigation system, then said, "You go ahead and crash for the night. I'll just grab an Uber."

Grace thought it over and nodded. "Alright, that works. Make sure to expense the ride later—don't let Ryan give you a hard time about it."

The car rolled back onto the main road, merging into the evening traffic. After a moment of silence, Aiden unexpectedly spoke up. "You said earlier you used to live in Brook Village."

"Yeah," Grace said, leaning back into her seat. "When I first graduated, I was flat broke—like, living paycheck to paycheck kind of broke. I only had about a grand to my name during my first month, and my internship check didn't come in until the end of it. Every penny I spent felt like a big deal. I rented the cheapest spot I could find, packed my own lunches every day, and even superglued my shoes when they fell apart. It wasn't glamorous, but I got through it. Once I started earning more, I upgraded to a nicer place."

Aiden glanced at her, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "You're pretty open about your past."

Grace tilted her head, intrigued. "What makes you say that?"

"Just a vibe I get," Aiden said with a shrug, keeping his eyes on the road.

Grace laughed softly. "That's funny. I've always thought I was pretty guarded."

Aiden nodded slightly. "You are—when it comes to work."

Her curiosity piqued, Grace asked, "How so?"

He took a second before answering. "Take today, for example. The way you grilled Jack during the meeting? You weren't pulling any punches."

Grace chuckled. "Fair point. In this line of work, you can't afford to take things at face value. Every dollar we invest is a risk. If it doesn't pan out, we're the ones left holding the bag. That's why I ask the tough questions. It's not about being rude; it's about getting to the bottom of things."

She shifted the conversation. "Speaking of work, I'll need you to put together a report on today's meeting by tomorrow morning. Just the key takeaways—nothing fancy."

"Got it," Aiden replied simply.

His short, to-the-point responses added to his reputation for being "chill but distant." Ryan always joked that Aiden had the whole "cool guy" vibe down to a science. But when Aiden smiled, even just a little, it had this effortless charm that made him seem approachable in a way that caught people off guard.

When they arrived at the gate of Grace's apartment complex, Aiden parked the car and ordered a rideshare to get home.

Contrary to Grace's assumptions, Aiden did live in Brook Village, but not in one of the crammed, older townhouses in the middle of the neighborhood. Instead, he stayed in a furnished long-term rental on the outskirts, near the subway station. The building was sleek and modern, with decent amenities, and the rent was about $1,800 a month—affordable by New York standards for someone playing it smart with their finances.

His choice was practical. Apartments closer to the central business district (CBD) typically ran over $4,000 a month for something comparable, and Aiden wasn't about to shell out that kind of cash. From Brook Village, driving to work took around 40 minutes. If he felt like saving gas, he could walk to the subway station and take two trains, which added up to just under an hour—a totally reasonable commute by NYC standards.

At the entrance of his apartment building, Aiden had just stepped out of the Uber when a voice called out behind him.

"Master Aiden."

He turned to see Tom, the family's long-time butler, standing by the door of a black Bentley. Next to him was the family chauffeur. The car door opened, and a woman stepped out—elegant and poised, dressed in a perfectly tailored Chanel suit. She looked to be in her early fifties, with every detail of her appearance, from her jewelry to her heels, exuding understated wealth.

"Mom," Aiden said, walking over. "What are you doing here?"

"I've been worried about you, so I came to check in," she said, her eyes scanning him with maternal concern. "Is this where you're staying?"

"Yeah."

She sighed, her voice softening. "Why are you doing this, Aiden? What's the point of fighting with your father? He's been cooling off these past few days. Just go back and apologize—it'll make things easier for everyone."

Hands in his pockets, Aiden shook his head firmly. "That's not happening."

"Aiden," her voice wavered as she looked at him, eyes glistening with tears. "I'm worried about you. I just want to make sure you're okay."

"I'm fine, Mom. I'm living on my own, and I'm managing. You don't have to worry about me. It's late—why don't you head home?"

Tom chimed in gently, "Master Aiden, please listen to your mother. She only wants what's best for you."

Aiden glanced at the older man but stayed resolute. "I'm not upset with Dad. I just want to see what I can do on my own, without him backing me."

His mother pulled a sleek black card from her handbag and extended it to him. "If you're not ready to come back, at least take this."

"I don't need it," Aiden said, taking a step back.

"You gave all your cards back to your father," she pressed. "How do you even have money?"

"Don't worry, Mom. I'm not starving." He sighed, glancing at the time. "It's late. Please, just go home. I'll be fine."

After watching the car pull away, Aiden turned and headed upstairs to his apartment.

The place was modest but comfortable—a 600-square-foot loft with high ceilings, a small kitchen, and a bright living space. It wasn't anything fancy, but for $1,800 a month, it was a great deal for New York City, even on the outskirts of Manhattan. The building was near the subway, which made commuting to work manageable.

Before leaving home, Aiden had returned all the credit cards and bank accounts tied to his father's wealth. But his internship at Goldman Sachs had allowed him to save a decent chunk of money. He had about $15,000 stashed away in a personal account, untouched by his family.

After paying the security deposit, first and last month's rent, and furnishing the apartment with basic essentials, he was left with about $9,000. At his current rate of spending—around $2,000 a month, including rent, groceries, and other expenses—he calculated he could make it comfortably until his first paycheck arrived next month.