Chapter 3The Sloth and the CEO

Three days later, I finally went to find Roman.

The fallen prince went from a penthouse in the CBD to a dark, cramped basement apartment.

He had stubble, slumped on the floor, surrounded by smoke and booze.

Seeing me, he laughed bitterly.

"Didn't you leave? Why come back?"

"What, did I miss a valuable watch or something?"

I shook my head and handed him a bank card.

"While you were gone, I contacted a luxury reseller."

"This money can help with your debts."

Roman was a generous sugar daddy.

Back in his glory days, he made me a VIC at every luxury brand.

New collections were sent directly to me.

So, my clothes, bags, watches, jewelry... filled a whole room.

His voice trembled, disbelief in his eyes:

"Those things... you never even unboxed them. You sold them all?!"

Um...

Actually, I was just too lazy to unbox them.

And because they were mint condition, they sold for way more.

But if he wants to think I sacrificed for him, sure.

Too lazy to argue.

Speaking of which, my stomach growled.

To cover the awkwardness, I whispered:

"I eat very little. I won't be a burden. Don't kick me out..."

A boss/sugar daddy like him is hard to find.

He sniffled.

"Okay."

We went downstairs to a hole-in-the-wall spot for a $5 bento box.

He pushed the box to me and ate a plain bun with pickles.

"See? I'm a loser now. If you stay, this cheap food is your future."

I shrugged.

"What's wrong with it?"

I pointed at the food:

"Look. Carbs, protein, fiber. Balanced diet. And for five bucks, there's even ribs? The owner is a saint!"

I split my chopsticks and gave him most of the ribs.

I lay down all day, low calorie burn. I really don't eat much.

His eyes got redder.

"Are you really okay with this?"

"Before, you ate..."

Yeah, before, Michelin chefs cooked for me.

Lobster, wagyu, truffle... everything.

So what?

I was too lazy to chew.

I blended it all into a smoothie and drank it.

But not anymore.

The blender got repossessed by the bank.

I sucked on a sweet and sour rib.

Hmm, tastier than a smoothie.

Meeting my clear gaze, Roman sighed.

And started rambling:

"Forget it. You were spoiled. You don't know real hardship. You'll learn."

"Your youth is precious. Don't waste it on me. If you regret it, leave anytime. I won't touch the money in the card. The bankruptcy is on me..."

He sounded like a nagging dad.

Old Roman: Cold, gloomy, silent.

New Roman: Worrywart.

I patted his head to interrupt the spell.

"Okay, stop. Aren't you tired of talking?"

"Your eyes are red. Insomnia again? Come here, let's nap."

I opened my suitcase.

Before the bank sealed the house, they let me take a few personal items.

I took my pillow and duvet.

No matter how hard life gets, a good nap gives you strength.

The bed was soft. Warm.

Roman didn't hug me for once.

He turned his back, shoulders shaking, crying silently.

Just as I was drifting off...

He kissed the top of my head.

"Linnea, I promise I'll give you the good life back."