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Added: Jan 14
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Mr. Billionaire - Season 1 - Episode 25
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Source: coolval
“When I went into the bedroom, I slipped. I caught myself on the wall and flipped the switch on. I then realized I was standing in blood. Not just anyone’s blood, her blood. Her body was crumpled on the floor. Her eyes which were once so full of wonder and light were lifeless.”


He hung his head. My hand hovered above his shoulder. I was torn. How should I comfort him?
He raised his head and I quickly let my hand fall, listening intently as he continued.


“Written in her blood on the wall were the words ‘Hathaway always gets what he wants’.”


“Hathaway,” I whispered the name, nodding to myself. “He was a famous mobster here. But he was killed last year…” I trailed off and looked at Ryan who was smiling his signature smile of sadness.


“You did that?” I gasped.

“I had to avenge Lana’s murder. I made that b-----d suffer,” he spat, rage on his face. “After her death, I fell into a dark place. Never loving anyone else. I killed because what did other lives matter? The one that mattered to me was no longer living, no longer able to laugh and smile. If a woman as gentle and kind as Lana could be killed, then so could everyone else.”


He took a deep breath, letting it fill his lungs completely, before finally exhaling.
“Evil isn’t born, Yvonne, it’s made.”
I swallowed. I suddenly felt bad for this man. Now I knew why he always looked so sad. That woman—Lana—she had meant the world to him. I could see it in his eyes when he spoke of her. And to suddenly have her snatched away…
I put my hand on his arm. He whipped his head around to look at me, shock replacing the sadness in his features.

“I’m sorry,” I said quietly. There was nothing more I could say.


He looked at me for a long time with a strange expression.



“What?” I asked, getting rather uncomfortable.
“Nothing.” He turned away. “But now you know why the lives of others hold no value to me.”

“Then why haven’t you killed me?”
The words slipped out and when he turned to look at me, I instantly regretted them.
“Because,” he finally said after staring into my eyes for a long time. “You remind me of her.”
I reminded him of Lana? That’s why he hadn’t killed me.


I blinked and Ryan turned away.
“I know it must be…odd. It’s odd for me too. The first time I saw you, I hoped against hope that maybe she hadn’t died. That maybe somehow it was all just a terrible, twisted nightmare.”


His English accent was soothing as he spoke.
I was quiet, a little creeped out at being told I looked like a dead woman who he was once madly in love with.


“Won’t Gretchen throw a temper tantrum if you don’t kill me?” I wondered, looking at him.
“You know I was supposed to bring you out here and take you away somewhere. She didn’t care where I took you, as long as you were gone and couldn’t stand between her and Liam.”
It was hard to miss the bitterness and quiet rage in his voice and on his face when he said Liam’s name.


“However, you’d hate me if I did and…” he looked at me. “I don’t want you to hate me.”
His voice was quiet, barely even a whisper.
I stood up, gently picking up my headpiece.
“You should probably take me back,” I said, looking down at him. “Liam is probably going out of his mind with worry.”

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