A Wife for the Billionaire

"Richard Wellington, I have had enough of your insolence! You must get a wife for yourself, or better still just get one of those your numerous chicks pregnant" Edward Wellington, the billionaire philanthropist, a great designer and fashion mogul still handsome in his early sixties with dark hair graying at the edges, dark keen eyes and a face that shines in every picture or ad he's featured in especially when stretched in a smile. The man I call my father, stormed.

Anger swelled in me, blinding and hot. Who was he to tell me what to do? I might be his son, but that doesn't give him the audacity to impose life changing decisions on me.

"My dear, your father is right, with your condition no one knows what can happen and when, so for the sake of the empire, just give us an heir" my mom, the famous model and actress still dazzling in her fifties with long dark lustrous hair, gray eyes, well accentuated nose, red lips, an ageless face like that of an angel and a body like that of a goddess, Claire Wellington added.

I really can't count how many times I've been forced to listen to this. I just wish they would care about me more than their empire.

The Wellington Empire was a fashion brand that had reigned for generations. It was a legacy with designs that can't be rivaled, and now it has fallen on me to uphold the legacy. But first of all, I must get married and sire an heir to maintain our position as the head family.

I was about to give them a response, when my mom continued looking away from me to her husband,

"But honey, surely you don't mean that he should impregnate any girl. Imagine the ruin that would do to our reputation and with the new collection a few months from launch, a scandal is the last thing we need. Besides, I'm already planning something "

"At this rate, I care less of our name and I don't give a fuck about the collection. I have the Elders breathing down my neck, ready to install another if your hothead of a son dies without an heir, so whatever you are planning, hasten up" My father finished, running his hand on hair as he rose and paced the room.

For my father to swear, they must really have him at the balls. "Should have known this was the handiwork of those gaffers" I thought to myself. The Elders were heads of the four founding families of the supposed Wellington Empire... or should I say, my Empire.

They were Lord Thomas Grey, Lord Henry Fisher, Lord Frederick Day and Lord William Manson, these men had been trying to usurp my family from overseeing the empire for years now. Even their ancestors had tried and I wager their future generations will still continue in such fruitless attempts.

The most thwarty of them all, was Lord Thomas Grey. Rumor has it that his great-great-great-great grandfather, Paul Grey had invested one third of the capital, Wellington Empire was founded with. My own great-great-great-great grandfather, Charles Wellington had been the brains behind the business and as such his name was chosen as the brand.

Paul Grey had fumed at that, blatantly insisting that as the most investor, his name should represent the brand. That notion of his had threatened to crumble the rising empire.

It had taken a vote from the other Lords before the matter was resolved and my name, 'Wellington' remained the brand name. But the Greys never forgot or forgave, each generation carried that grudge plotting and ploying to have the Wellington name removed as the brand name.

Over the years, they've managed to poison the hearts of the other families against us and with such a rally of support, they would have succeeded already except that my ancestor Charles, had been smart. He had added in the company's deed that the brand name can only be changed when his progeny fails to succeed the position of the head family in the case of not having an heir.

So I totally understand why my parents are worked up as they are, but I really wasn't dying anytime soon, no matter what the physicians say. A man can change his fate.

" Can you stop already, who says I'm dying soon, afterall didn't the doctor say that I still have at least ten more years" I quipped, eager to be anywhere else than sitted in front of my parents in our sitting room.

" Listen to yourself. Claire, do you hear the nonsense coming out of your son's mouth? At his age, a score and quad, he still thinks he's young and foolish enough to tempt the hands of fate. What happens when the favor of our ancestors run out, or fate decides to run its course? Tell me boy, what happens then?!"

It's true I wasn't born to live long. I'm one of those persons whose fate has already been decided even before we came to be.

Born with Hypertrophic Cardiomyopathy (HCM), the rare heart disease characterized by the thickening of the heart muscles leading to obstruction of blood flow and arrhythmias with symptoms like fatigue, chest pain and shortness of breath. I can't really say that I'm living, it feels more like a passage, as if I'm just strolling through life rather than actually living.

Four years ago, during my 20th birthday, I had an episode which had been really unexpected because I had received a transplant prior. The blasted thing recurred in the transplant since HCM was complex involving also the electrical system, the valves and the blood vessels.

Money saved the day, buying me another transplant in the space of five minutes. After recuperating, I was told with the current state of my condition, I had just a few years to live. Give or take, I had just 16 more years before I exit this plane like the visitor I was.

Hearing my father speak of my condition like it had something to do with fate or our ancestors, I almost laughed.

Clearly irritated by the smile I hadn't managed to hide, my father raged,

"For heaven's sake, Richard take this thing seriously. It's your life that we are discussing not some game or whatever you are smiling about" he raised his hands in frustration before adding "Claire just talk to your child"

The issue wasn't getting someone pregnant, it was a matter of who. Who will be worthy of carrying the next heir of the Wellington Empire?

Of all the girls I have dangled with, none of them was really worthy. They were too docile, always eager to please and their eyes, always on the money. If I was going to get married, it won't be for love.

With a fragile heart like mine, heartbreak was the last thing I needed, so what better way to avoid it than never allowing myself to love. I had an MO, if I'm dating you and somewhere along the line, I start catching feelings, be weary for I will dump your ass.

Most men have male enemies, but I... I have a long queue of girls who will eagerly stab me for what I did to them.

I should care. I should feel remorseful, but I don't. These people will heal and continue their existence, whereas I might be in the grave before then. With death hovering over one's life, people tend to be more humane. They do good things, treat people better, change their old ways even, all in a bid to go to Nirvana or wherever the hell people go after death. But me, I'm the opposite of these people, I don't give a fuck about life or the people I meet, why would I when life resents me? Why waste my precious remaining years wallowing in so-called good deeds or kindness, when I can live out anyhow I want?

For a wife, I will need someone rebellious, someone who will be able to say no and mean it. Being the mother of the heir of the empire, she has to be very strong willed and unwavering, that's the only way she would survive, especially against the other families. And very important, she has to be someone who doesn't believe in love nor someone I will ever see myself falling for.

Certainly not in the mood for arguments or time burning, I tried to be the obedient child, "I've heard you, father. Now, can I start heading to the office, you know we have a meeting today with the board"

"Not to forget the stress you keep piling on yourself, I mean why fire the clerk for something as inconsequential as a typo. Now you have to interview applicants this morning as well. My son try to treat people better, your longevity may depend on it"

"Inconsequential, you say!" I barked, no longer able to keep my cool. "Need I remind you that that 'inconsequential' error almost cost us the Dame contract." Dusting myself even though my navy suit was spotless, I added as I rose from the extra plush sofa "You know what, I really can't deal with this"

Calling after me my mom began, "Dear, please calm down, remember your..."

"Oh I do remember, you don't have to throw it at my face every time" I snapped, cutting her off while dialing my driver to come pick my attaché case as I practically hauled myself at the door.

If life was a lover, I think I must've broken his heart in my past existence. For here he was yet again, making me suffer for something I knew nothing about.

"Gracious Lord, Sofia Blake, you are clumsy. Better pray that you will be able to remove that stain before it forever mars my floors" my cruel witch of a stepmother, Alicia Blake hissed as she watched me from her lounging chair.

I hated her and this morning, I couldn't hate her more. She was well aware that I had an interview to get to. With not just any company, but the Wellington Fashion Empire. My dream place of employment and yet here I was wiping a cursed oil stain left by her devious feline.

Frisk, the evil creature sat beside the hinges of the table, licking his paws in obvious triumph as I glared at it.

For generations, the Wellingtons have reigned supreme. My ancestors wore their designs and I hope to do so one day... when I can afford their exorbitant prices.

Judging from the time hanging on the mantel, I was one minute late already. I had busted my ass off to get that interview and I wasn't going to lose it.

"Please ma, I'm already running late, can I do this when I get back" I made another attempt at pleading when the oil stain showed no hope of saving me time.

She paid me no heed as she slowly sipped her tea. Before I could try another plea, her just as cruel twin daughters came running to her,

"Mama, look what I found" Annabel sang holding up the clothes I had selected to wear to the interview.

"Dear Sofy, wants to wow the Wellingtons and we can't let that happen, right mama? Mirabel said, fingering the lacy white shirt I had designed and sewn during my internship at Bogue.

It was a beautiful thing with flared sleeves like the petals of a rose and a pleated bodice. That design had fetched me accolades and millions of dollars which Alicia had confiscated.

It killed them knowing that no matter what they did to me, it didn't diminish my beauty or intellect.

Alicia Blake was known for her hats, she was a mogul herself wowing the world with designs mostly mine in hats, fascinators, berets, fedora, name it. She was good, but I was better. It often surprised people that with her looks, the widow refused to remarry even with prominent men falling at her feet.

Pretty with chestnut curly hair, eyes of the same hue, lips - thin lines of fuchsia, and a slim body that had fetched her popularity during her young age as a model.

Annabel and Mirabel were just like her, beautiful and cruel, with the same body figure and features.

In truth, she wasn't really my stepmom or maybe she was. My father, unbeknownst to me and my mother, had been the mastermind behind the 'Global Heist of 99'. The heist that had crippled the world finances for a week before his accomplices were arrested and most of the funds stolen were recovered.

I was just 8 when it happened, I had been watching the news with my mom when we saw the man we loved, labeled 'world most wanted criminal'. My father was rarely at home and we believed his absence was because of his work as a broker, whereas he had been a criminal.

A week later, the cops broke into our house. Mom had hidden me in the wardrobe, but they had taken her. Our house was confiscated and they were to return to properly ransack everything. I had thought I would be discovered, but that night, my father came back and took me.

He brought me to Alicia, who was another lie he never told us about. She was also his wife, and people didn't know about it, just like they didn't know of me. Only my mom could they associate with him after finding their wedding photo online. Apparently as secluded as the wedding had been, a family member couldn't resist the temptation of posting a photo online.

My name was changed from Sofia Reed, to Sofia Blake, which was the name of Alicia's late husband before she met my dad. Wait, she had been cheating on her husband with my dad even when the poor guy had been alive, hence the twins whom everyone believes are Blakes whereas they are actually Reeds. Who knows, their dalliance might have been the main reason behind the poor man's demise.

It took months, but eventually Simon Reed, the Red Terror, was caught. He was sentenced to life imprisonment after confiscation of almost all his properties and accounts. Except the one he had gifted to Alicia for my upkeep and that of hers and the twins. Which after 14 years, no one has discovered.

I still don't know what happened to my mom, some say she was tortured till her death for the whereabouts of her husband which she claimed to have no clue of, others say she is still alive slowly rotting behind bars.

That's one of the reasons why I need this job, it may not be my dream position, but it was in my dream company and who knows, I might eventually rise to my dream position of a designer and a stylist. Which will earn me enough pay and reputation to solicit for the whereabouts of my mother without raising eyebrows. That's if these evil people don't ruin my chances.

"You are absolutely right, my precious. We really can't let that happen" Alicia crooned, the sound of ripping fabric filled the hall as she tore one of the flares on the right sleeve of the shirt.

"Please, please!" I could already feel the tears brimming in my eyes. But who was I kidding, that never stopped them before neither did it now.

My tears and pleas, instead motivated them as they shredded my shirt and skirt to as many pieces as their hands could allow. Wicked Mirabel like the rabid dog she was, even used her teeth when her hands no longer allowed her.

Dumping them in the pail of dirty water I was using to mop the floor, she added, a devilish smile on her lips,

"Come along girls, we have a business to run."

"Yes, mama", they trailed after her,

throwing me mocking looks as they passed.

Just when I thought they were gone, happy to abandon this fruitless chore for my interview. Alicia turned and as if reading my mind, she said standing in the open door, haloed by the morning sun;

"Don't even think of stepping an inch without restoring that tile to high shine. I would hate to pull up at your interview announcing exactly who you are. That you are alive and here today, it's only because of my name. Don't you ever, ever in your excuse of existence, forget that"

As silence settled around me, I was once again reminded that I never would've been in this situation if my mom hadn't fallen for a crook such as my father. Love ruined my life and it was still doing so. But as much as I dream about leaving this house, I would never do it if it involves love.

Just as Alicia had told me on that night in the ninth grade after I got my heart broken by Jake, the boy I had fallen head over heels for, but he had broken my heart by cheating on me with Mirabel of all persons;

"Love is stupid. Love is for fools and love will only hurt you"

That was the only night she treated me like I was a human being. She had held me and consoled me as my broken heart bled. Maybe she did it because her daughter was involved, or because she had wanted to break me more. I remember that was the night she told me that I was just like my mom, "a fool who falls for a bad guy and even after realizing that he isn't any good, I remain with him because I love him, but to what end - a broken heart and a shattered life."

I had been confused as to how that related with my mom, or perhaps I had been too heartbroken to care, but I read meaning into her words a few days later. My mom knew. She found out the type of person my dad was and because she loved him, she had stayed. And now, I was paying the price.

A lesson. That was what I learnt that night even though I think it's the last thing Alicia thought I would gain from her obscured confession.

Scrubbing the tile more ferociously, I repeated, gritting the words like I could crush them with my teeth;

"Love is stupid. Love is for fools..." wiping the tears blurring my vision, I finished,

" And indeed love can only hurt".

"Are you alright, Sir?" Lanke, my driver asked with that weird accent of his.

" Of course I'm not" I had wanted to snap, but Lanke was one of those few persons I've come to respect. He was a black, advancing into his late fifties. Three years into the job, putting up with my outbursts, insults and demeaning attitude, I respected him unlike those young blood who always bailed a few months from the job.

The longest anyone of them had stayed was a year and six months before deciding that my attitude wasn't worth the pay. I never expected that I would ever come to like Lanke, one, he was older and doesn't get me at times and two, he has a weird accent which he claimed was because he was a Yoruban.

A tribe according to him in West Africa, Nigeria to be precise.

The truth was that I'm far from alright. How could I be when each second, minute, hour and day, feels like a countdown leading to the inevitable. I may not take my situation seriously in the presence of others, but deep down I was scared shit of dying.

I watched him look at me again through the rear mirror, his face a contour of worried lines and reminded myself that I was Richard Wellington and I hate pity. Lanke knew of my condition and that alone should be enough to fire him, but for some unfathomable reasons, I just couldn't.

"Lanke, what have I told you about that look?" I asked, catching him off guard.

"Uhm... Sorry Sir, as a father myself I..."

"Just wipe it off your face and keep your eyes on the road" I interjected, not in the mood for his overly concern.

With a forced smile, he muttered, "Yes Sir".

A pang of guilt thrummed through me and before it could spread to my cold heart, my phone rang.

The number wasn't one I recognized and as I wasn't in the mood for dealing with strangers or fans. I allowed it to continue vibrating. The urge to get high and simply float on the clouds of ecstasy tugged with desperation in my mind as the phone kept ringing. But I couldn't even do that since I was with Lanke, and he hated seeing me smoke. It's times like this that I miss my younger employees, especially Trey, who always got the good stuff.

After the second ring, I was curious about the voicemail that came after. So I punched on the button.

"Hello" it began in a feminine voice I didn't recognize, I almost dismissed it as one of those girls I had moved on from, but somehow was still stuck in the dream of getting me back, when it continued;

"This is Beck from Falling Stars Hotel, if this is Richard Wellington then Sir, a certain friends of yours, hold on a minute, Sir what do you say it's your name again" I felt the pause as if in that moment she had been holding the phone away from her mouth, a voice I would recognize anywhere grumbled in the background, "Chad Ramsey".

The voice mail continued, " Okay , so Sir your friend Chad Ramsey has been here for a few days now and he has accumulated quite a debt. His credit card has been maxed and according to him, you are the only one who can help him, so if you get this message don't hesitate to come save your friend."

" Fuck!" I yelled after the beep at the end of the voice mail.

I heard Lanke utter a curse in his dialect and the car screeched to a halt. Without even waiting for a go ahead order, he revised the car and sped towards the location. I couldn't have liked him more than I did at that moment, the guy knew me and how I never play with those I care about.

"Pick up. Pick up" I agitatedly spoke over the dialing tone.

"Why are you calling this early?", Aaron Wald grumpily said after the fourth ring.

"Hey Wald, it's Chad again. He's been held at Falling Stars for accumulation of debt. I'm already on my way there, could you get your ass there?"

"For heaven's sake, we warned Chad about that girl and now you're seeing it. How low love can hit a man, anyway though I have someplace I need to be, but I will be there..." I think he had meant to say more before the voice in the background asked "Baby, where are you going? You promised that you would be mine all day"

"Oh get over yourself Ella or is it Bella... what's that your name again?"

"It's Keila, actually" I heard a girl say and Aaron fly as he zipped himself before continuing,

"I know I hit that thing right, but is it really enough to start calling me 'baby'. And I have to ask 'are you dumb or just stupid?', thinking that I, Aaron Wald, was going to actually stay here with you all day especially after I have had my fill of you last night. In case you didn't get the clue, I just said that because I wanted to get in there." A chuckle, then there was a kiss, probably he had kissed her on the forehead before adding "You were exceptional darling, but Aaron Wald is always on the hunt for better. I will wire some money to your account, let it be my parting gift. Bye Leila"

" But Baby... Aaron... Baby" and a door banged shut, fading away her voice.

"Same old Wald" I thought, smiling to myself as I hit the end-call button.

I loved my friends, we had met at high school and years later we remain solid. We were sometimes called 'The Heartbreak Trio" by a certain news column. Others called us "BP's" (Billionaire Playboys), that was until Chad who according to his name and it's usage in the internet slang, seduction community and incel slang. He was very handsome and tall. The kind of man whom women find sexually attractive and he had reveled in such attention. Dating more girls than Aaron and I combined until he met Zara.

Zara was an Indian model we met at one of the fashion shows. She had a skin that glowed and dark hair so rich and long that it touched her bulging butts. I had liked her the first time I saw her, hell, we all liked her and like every other time we all liked one girl at the same time. The challenge to see which of us would sway her was instigated.

I have never lost such a challenge, in fact, Chad and Wald suspected at the beginning that I would win, considering my charm, influence and looks, though they never voiced such concerns.

Zara proved to be very difficult. She was the kind of girl who knew just how beautiful she was and she flaunted her assets like a whip. Lashing out at anyone who came close. After three months of no progress, we gave up or I thought we all did. As a billionaire with such rakish reputation I hated for the news or gossip columns to carry something like;

"Billionaire Playboy, Richard Wellington fails to sweep Zara Vishwamitra, the Indian goddess, off her feet"

Or,

"Zara Vishwamitra chooses her career over dalliance. Oops, Richard."

Apparently, Chad never did let her go, somehow he had fallen for her more than the 'like' category and I don't really know if it was the consistency or the genuineness, but he got Zara. He got the girl we had failed to get.

Their love story trended for weeks, with headlines like,

"Billionaire Playboy, Chad Ramsey is smitten"

"Love arrests the cold heart of Chad Ramsey in the form of Zara Vishwamitra"

"It's a new dawn-Zara & Chad"

They even had hashtags like - #Chadra #Zarhad among the rest.

It lasted three years before Zara broke his heart. I really don't remember what happened, but it was after they had traveled to India–yeah it was that serious. Our boy came back two weeks earlier than expected, all teary and gloomy.

I think it was something about Zara's parents and family members not finding him worthy of upholding their traditions and customs or was it Zara, herself?

It's been three weeks now and my boy still hasn't gotten over her. He had stuck with gambling, drinking and clubbing away from dawn till dusk. To the extent that his card has been maxed. Thankfully it was one.

The modern skyscraper silver façade building of the famous 'Falling Stars Hotel' appeared into view, shimmering like the night sky under the morning light, startling me back to the present.

As Lanke pulled over, I promised myself again, "never ever to give a girl or love such power and effect over me."