The Billionaire Brothers' Baby Mama

"Miss Ava, I'm sorry. This bar needs younger girls in order to attract more male patronage, and I'm sorry you no longer meet our expectations," said my manager as I knelt to plead, but the decision was final.

His words echoed in my ears, each word hitting me harder than the last. I stared up with teary eyes at Mr. Collins, my manager for the past five years, the man who had watched me work my fingers to the bone, taking extra shifts whenever I could, barely taking days off. And yet, none of it mattered.

"Please, Mr. Collins'', I whispered, my voice shaking.

"I... I need this job. You know I do.

He sighed, running a hand through his graying hair.

"Ava, it's not about performance. You're one of my best employees, but the business isn't what it used to be. The younger girls bring in more customers and bigger tips. It's out of my hands.

"Mr Collins, please could you help me talk to the boss. I'm sure he would consider it, please", I said as I wiped the tears from my eyes.

"Getting a new job is difficult and the agencies are not helping. Please, Mr. Collins, I don't mind being demoted to the position of a cleaner."

"Look, I have tried my best to speak to him but the new policy is strict and there's nothing like considerations. You could look for another job that suits your age," he added.

I wasn't old; I was only twenty-seven. But in this industry, even that was enough to be cast aside. I forced myself to stand, legs weak beneath me. "How long do I have?"

Mr. Collins looked away. "Tonight was your last shift. You'll get your final paycheck tomorrow."

I nodded, wiping my tears as I cleaned the dirt off my knees.

I turned on my heels and walked out, not trusting myself to say another word.

No job. No income. My clothes were getting old and worn out. Liam's school fees weren't going to pay themselves, and I barely had any savings left after covering last month's bills. I was just a helpless single mother right now.

I am the mother of 4 1⁄2-year old Liam.I had him as my late ex-fiance', who died in a plane crash just on the day I was to announce my pregnancy to him. Ever since then, I have been working in this bar trying to save money to give my son the best life, especially because I was tired of dad's carelessness about my son and me.

I have been devoted to working here but I have just been fired. Is aging now a crime?

The thought of my little boy was the only thing keeping me from falling apart right there on the sidewalk. My son, my whole world. He was still small enough to curl up in my lap and fall asleep against my chest. He didn't understand struggles and didn't know what it meant when I skipped meals to make sure he had enough. I had shielded him from all of it.

But now, with no job, how long could I keep doing that?

I walked home with my mind racing. Maybe I could find another job, maybe at dinner, maybe cleaning houses. It wouldn't pay as much as bartending, but it would be something.

By the time I reached my apartment, I had a headache from exhaustion and stress. The lights in the living room were still on, which meant my father was awake. He often stayed up late, working on his business deals.

I hesitated before unlocking the door, but before I could push it open, I heard voices inside.

"Everything is set," my father's voice said, low and firm. "The wedding will go as planned."

What wedding?

Last time I checked, Dad had no woman in his life since Mom died and I was his only child.

I pressed my ear against the door, heart pounding in my chest as I struggled not to believe the words in my mind. Dad had always wanted me to remarry after the death of my late fiancée but I kept turning him down.

"Good," another voice responded. It was deep, smooth, but carried an air of authority.

"I expect no complications, William. Marrying your daughter to me will be beneficial for both of us."

I sucked in a sharp breath. That voice, I knew that voice. He is Henry Davenport.

Henry Davenport was an old man of about 62 years; he was a widower, a well-known car dealer in the city and one of the wealthiest men around. I had seen him before, visiting my father's office countless times and had assumed he was just another business partner- someone my father was working with on a deal.

"Yes, Henry, everything is in place," my father said, his tone calm and businesslike.

Henry Davenport's voice crackled.

"Good. I've been patient long enough, William. I paid the dowry a month ago, and I can't wait to finally have Ava as my wife."

My gaze flew wide and my pulse began quickening.

What?!

"I've done my part," my father, William Langford, continued. "The agreement stands.You cancel my debts, and in return, you get my daughter as your wife.

I clapped a hand over my mouth, stifling a gasp.

This couldn't be real.

"I can't tell her about it now," my father added after a pause. "If I do, she'll fight back. She's stubborn, Henry. Just like her mother was."

Henry chuckled. "That's why you'll wait until a day before the wedding. By then, she won't have a choice but to agree. The wedding will be in three days."

"Absolutely", said my father.

The words sent ice through my veins.

A day before? That meant I had less than three days before I was forced into marriage with a man old enough to be my grandfather, a man I barely knew.

My body trembled. The decision had already been made. My father had never planned to ask me. He was going to wait until the last possible moment, until I had no way to escape, no way to say no.

I felt everything about this day was already cursed-from one bad news to another.

Oh heavens!