Too Late, Mr. Billionaire: You can’t afford me now

Chapter 1009:

To be closer to her, Ernest pulled his chair alongside hers. The gentle glow lit her features, softening them with a tender radiance.

Unconsciously, Ernest’s Adam’s apple bobbed. He reached for the decanter on the table and poured two glasses of red wine. Elissa caught the scent in the air.

“What’s that? Red wine?”

“Yes,” he replied. “It’s your birthday. I thought we’d share a glass.”

“Alright.”

He gently took her hand, guiding the stem of the glass into her fingers. “Careful. Hold it steady.”

Elissa let out a quiet laugh. “You’re fussier than Laney. I may be blind, but I haven’t lost the ability to hold a wine glass.”

“That’s on me,” Ernest said, tone warm and unbothered.

He raised his own glass and lightly tapped it against hers. “Happy birthday.”

Elissa froze, a sudden tightness in her chest. Her nose tingled. “Thank you,” she murmured.

She lowered her head and took a small sip. “This wine…”

“What is it?” Ernest frowned. “You don’t like it?”

“No, not like that…” She shook her head. “It tastes familiar. Is this Lafite Rothschild?” She took another sip. “1966 vintage?”

Ernest blinked, surprised. “It is. You can tell? Are you a wine expert?”

Elissa smiled, shaking her head. “Not exactly. When I was little, I lived abroad with my mom. She ended up marrying a foreigner—he owned a vineyard, a private winery.” She hesitated, slightly embarrassed.noveldrama

“Back then, I didn’t know any better. I drank red wine like it was juice. I guess I picked up a thing or two.”

Her laughter was light and unguarded, and something about the brightness of her smile made Ernest’s chest tighten.

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She’d grown up in a world of privilege—safe, luxurious, untroubled. If it hadn’t been for him… her life might’ve stayed that way.

She had endured so much—all because of him.

Ernest silently set his glass down and began plating food for her, carefully slicing the meat into small, manageable pieces.

“I’ve put together a bit of everything. Take your time. If there’s something you like, just say the word—I’ll get more.”

“Alright.”

Elissa took her fork and began eating with small, graceful bites.

As he watched her eat with such visible enjoyment, Ernest’s lips curved into a quiet smile.

“Don’t fill up too fast. There’s still a cake coming.”

“Really?” Her face lit up. “There really is a cake?”

“There is. Later, I’ll help you blow out the candles and cut it too.”

Elissa giggled, setting her fork down. She pressed her palms to the table and started to rise.

“Dilan, could you get Laney for me?”

“She’s probably resting,” Ernest said, steadying her arm. “What do you need? I’ll help.”

“I need to use the bathroom…” she admitted, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

He didn’t flinch. “I’m not sure where Laney went.”

Without hesitation, he pulled back her chair and reached for her hand.

“Come on. I’ll take you.”

Her hand was small and soft in his—delicate and warm. It fit perfectly into his palm.

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