The Billionaire's Secret ✓

(25) - A Peace Treaty.

"What do you mean by that?" Emma nudged me as a Eureka hit me.

I found out a way to get things out of James! I'm sure this gonna work.

"So, I need your guy's help." I turn to face Red and Emma who were listening to me keenly.

After telling Emma the whole story she too was excited to get into my plan, "Okay so, let's begin. Today is his birthday and he doesn't like celebrating them so are throwing a party for him with his own money, Of course. I need you guys to manage and organize them. I'll text you the further details."

"Where the hell are you in this plan?"Red asked.

"Somewhere I need to be." I smiled and procced to my plan.

A 'Come in' answered my knock.

Oh hell ya.

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JAMES POV
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As a child, I was taught to tell the truth which was often painful but now, as an adult, I realize that not, to tell the truth, is more painful nor the fear of telling the truth --- whatever the truth may be --- that fear is the most painful sensation of moral life.

Office hours are now dreading, I can't stop thinking about her, is she sick? Did she have a hangover? Is she still mad at me? Will, she ever talk to me? And mostly how on the world will I tell her the truth? she barely knows anything about it and yet here we are on the verge of breaking up! Did we even break up?

"Come in" I called out as someone knocked on my door.

"Hello!" the voice I never expected to hear boomed, Emily.

"Hi. How are you doing?"

"Oh, you really want me to answer that?" she smiled sarcastically before taking a seat behind my desk, on my chair to be precise whilst I stood dumbstruck near to the glass wall of my office.

She seems to be fine. Which was creepy and scary.

"James, I would like to ask some questions."

No. Not again. I'm not telling her until I'm one hundred percent sure she trusts me.

"No, don't worry nothing about your shady past." she clarified taking me by surprise.

"Okay, go on." unless it not about that matter, I'm completely okay with spilling the tea.

"So, what's a color you hate?" she asked her query.

Hold on, what?

"White right?" she answered for me.

"Yeh." I nodded, completely unsure of what's happening.

"What kind of music you don't like?" another question airs.

"Um,"

"Jazz right?" she answered for me again. She knows me damn well.

"You like spending time with the inner circle only?" she asked and I nod.

"You don't like taking pictures, do you?" she asked as if just to make sure that I say yes.