Part 2The Billionaire's Bet and the Barista

The sound of pots and pans clinking came from the kitchen.

While I was busy, I asked: "Julian, what do you want to eat?"

He stood outside the kitchen door: "Whatever you make is fine."

Julian—that was the name I found in his wallet.

Written on a slip of paper. But the entire wallet contained nothing but that single slip of paper.

I considered taking him to the police station.

But he was incredibly resistant to the idea.

"Don't take me there," Julian hugged me tightly, as if trying to merge into me, his voice trembling slightly. "Audrey, please, let me stay with you."

He was like a newborn child, clutching onto a hard-won piece of kindness, begging humbly.

My heart suddenly softened.

I took him in, and it's been several months.

Even the neighbors knew I had a very handsome boyfriend.

It's just that he rarely went out, and no one knew what he did for a living.

I didn't know either.

Every time I brought up helping him find his family, Julian would react strongly, hugging me and acting cute.

He always said: "Audrey, don't abandon me."