The Billionaire In The Treehouse

Chapter 10

Clyde

I tapped the armrest of my wheelchair impatiently, waiting for Medora to come home. The drama she pulled at my dad’s lair was unnecessary and completely out of the blue. Things were fine—good, even. With Emilia back in London and Liam away at college, she was all I had left. She knew that. So why was she doing this now?

Desperation wasn’t my style, but I’d resorted to camping outside her house to catch her. I’d already sent her a dozen texts, each one more pleading than the last, and she hadn’t replied to any of them. She was usually home fifteen minutes ago. What was going on?

The sound of her car pulling up snapped me out of my thoughts. I wheeled out from my hiding spot, heart pounding, and made my way toward the street where she parked.

She stepped out of the car, her sour expression shifting into shock the moment she saw me.

“Dora,” I whispered.

Her reaction wasn’t what I expected. Instead of stopping, she turned around and bolted toward the street, running as if I were some sort of monster.

I frowned, anger bubbling beneath my confusion. Don’t run from me.

I chased her in my wheelchair, the motor humming as I closed the gap. Her legs might’ve carried her faster if she had more stamina, but Medora wasn’t built for running. She had a fit, curvy frame that wasn’t exactly suited for sprints. It didn’t take long before I caught up.

When I grabbed her hand, she stumbled, falling into my lap with a thud. I held her in place, refusing to let go as she stared up at me with wide, frightened eyes.

“What is wrong with you?” I asked, my voice low as I tried to keep my frustration in check. Her chest that housed two heavy soft balls rose and fell rapidly, her breaths shallow and panicked.

“Let me go!” she cried, adrenaline clearly coursing through her as she struggled against my grip. She pushed at my chest with all her strength, her fists slamming into me until one wild swing caught my jaw. Pain shot through me, but I didn’t loosen my hold.

Then she broke free, stumbling off my lap. “Stay the f**k away from me!” she snapped, her voice trembling.

The words cut deeper than I wanted to admit.

Anger flared, hot and sharp. “I’ll stay away if that’s what you want,” I spat, my voice low and clipped. “But don’t ever f*****g run from me again.”

I turned my chair sharply, refusing to look at her as I wheeled away. My jaw throbbed where she’d hit me, the metallic tang of blood filling my mouth. I rubbed at the spot absentmindedly, anger still coursing through me as I realized how far we’d gone—well past my own gate.

When I reached my house, I wheeled inside without a backward glance.

Bitch.

******

I took a long gulp of my coffee, setting the cup down on the café table. The early morning sun filtered through the windows, casting a soft glow on everything, but I still couldn’t believe I was here—at a café this early—talking to Medora’s friend Yellow. Unlike Medora, who was a storm in human form, Yellow exuded an almost childlike cheer, her short legs swinging beneath the table.

“That’s a scandalous story that would make for a great book,” I said, reacting to her outrageous love triangle involving her best friend and cousin.

She reached across the table and grabbed my hand, her grin stretching wide enough to reveal every tooth.

“But you’re on my side, right?” she asked, her voice sweet but expectant.

“Yes, yes. Peter is such a total douchebag for not acknowledging your feelings all this time. And your cousin? How could she not notice?” I said dramatically, leaning into her story despite myself.

I still wasn’t entirely sure why I was here or what Yellow wanted from me. I only knew she’d stolen my number from Medora’s phone.

“So,” Yellow said, lowering her voice as if we were in on some grand conspiracy, “I’m planning a little revenge. A petty one, really.”

I raised an eyebrow, setting my half-eaten croissant down. “Revenge?”

“Yes.” She chuckled mischievously. “I need a rich date for their wedding next week.”

“Uhn?” My brain stuttered as I stared at her.

She nodded eagerly. “Yep.”

“Yellow—”

Before I could say more, a piercing voice cut through the air, stopping our conversation dead.

“Yellow!”

I didn’t need to turn to know it was Medora, her voice dripping with fury as she marched toward us.

Yellow bit her lip, suppressing a smile. “Oh, boy.”

“What is wrong with you?” Medora snapped, glaring daggers at her friend.

“We’re just having breakfast. Relax.” Yellow’s tone was maddeningly calm, almost teasing.

“Yeah,” I chimed in, lifting my coffee cup in solidarity.

Medora turned her gaze on me, her lips pursed in obvious jealousy.

“Fine,” she said tightly. “But I’m going to be right over there watching you.” She pointed two fingers at her eyes, then at us, in an exaggerated gesture before stomping off to a nearby table.

As soon as she was gone, Yellow leaned in conspiratorially. “So, about the wedding…”

I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck. “What else do you need, exactly?”

“A date,” she said sweetly, her eyes wide. “An expensive car, an expensive suit, and for you to pretend to be my boyfriend. Please.”

She squeezed my hands tightly, her expression pleading.

I stared at her for a long moment, weighing my options. I didn’t love the idea of being paraded around for some petty revenge scheme, especially since I wasn’t in the mood to deal with judgmental comments about my crippled legs. But Yellow’s earnestness was disarming, and she was Medora’s friend…

“Fine,” I said at last. “Send me the invitation.”

Her squeal of delight made heads turn. She jumped out of her seat, fishing a green card out of her coat and placing it triumphantly on the table in front of me.

“Here! The invitation,” she said, grinning.

“Wait,” I asked, a thought striking me. “Dora’s coming too, isn’t she?”

“Of course,” Yellow replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

I sighed again, more out of resignation this time, as my gaze drifted to Medora, who was fidgeting at her table. I didn’t want to admit it, but I wasn’t mad at her anymore. The irritation I’d been nursing for weeks had melted into something else, something I didn’t want to name.

“Got what you wanted?” Medora’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts. She was back, glaring at Yellow with arms crossed. “Let’s go.”

Yellow gave me a quick wink before Medora grabbed her by the arm and hauled her away.

As they left, I found myself watching Medora, her anger sparking like a live wire.

She’s hot when she’s mad.