Billionaire's secret desire

ELLA

I pressed my forehead against the cold glass looking into the ICU, trying to steady the trembling in my hands. Through the transparent barrier, my mother lay down surrounded by a bunch of machines, their rhythmic beeping the only sound in the room. Tubes and wires impaled parts of her fragile body, connecting her to the devices that seemed to mock me with their multiple beeping. I wanted her to wake up, tell me that everything would be alright and that I should focus on my life. Her chest rose and fell in time with the ventilator, but it was the only movement, the only sign that she was still here with me.

I watched a nurse walk up to me with a pained smile. Surely, she was aware of my suffering.

"You can get changed and go in to see your mother now." She smiled. I wanted to reciprocate the gesture but I didn't have it in me.

I got changed and walked into the room. Slowly and carefully, I sat by her bedside. I lifted one of her hands by the wrist and kissed it. Remembering how the last time that she was awake, we had finally decided to make bread that had carrots in it. I laughed at the memory.

"Mum, remember how you disagreed that carrots don't belong in bread dough? But you still agreed to make it," I sniffled. Holding back the tears.

"All because I wouldn't shut up about carrot cake and carrot bread being similar," My laughter was pained.

The steady beeping of the heart monitor was the only sound breaking my pained silence. Mum's face, once full of life, looked so pale and fragile. The oxygen mask covered her mouth, making her breathing shallow and labored. Had she always been breathing so hard since I came into the room?

I clenched her fists, trying to hold back more tears that threatened to spill. Something was wrong.

"Mum?"

What was going on?

The door to the room swung open, and a team of doctors rushed in. Soon, I was being ejected from the room by two elder nurses who had pitiable expressions on their faces.

"You need to leave the room miss, your mother will be alright." They reassured while sitting me down. They left almost immediately.

My tears finally came down like a waterfall. I stood up, placing my head on the glass window and watching as they tried to keep her alive. Still in this world with me.

I wanted to scream, to shatter the glass that separated us, as if that could break the spell that kept her imprisoned in that unmoving body. But I knew it was useless. I was as powerless as she was, standing here in the hallway with nothing to do but watch and wait as the doctors did their best.

The main doctor with Marud written on his name tag, approached me. He was a tall man with a stern expression. Looking at him made me fear the worst.

"Miss Fitzgerald? We need to act fast," he said, his voice calm but urgent.

"Act fast?" I was confused now. What did he mean? "Is my mum dying?"

"Your mother just had another heart attack. We're doing everything we can to stabilize her, but there's something else you need to know." He clenched his notepad.

My heart pounded in my chest, I could hear it with my breath catching in my throat.

"What is it?" I choked out, my voice barely a whisper.

"The tests we ran earlier revealed that your mother's kidneys are failing," the doctor continued. "She needs a transplant as soon as possible. Without it, her chances of survival are very slim. For now, she'll be placed on dialysis three times a week. Her heart condition will also be monitored to manage any incoming attacks"

The world felt like it was spinning around me. This couldn't be happening. Not now, not when we were just beginning to mend our fractured relationship after we lost Dad.

"There will be more of that?" My chest heaved.

"We hope not, but there are high chances of it. She needs that transplant soon, as it is the root cause."

"A kidney transplant? How much is it? How much time do we have?"

"We will put her on dialysis to buy some time," the doctor explained, "but dialysis is only a temporary solution. We need to start looking for a donor immediately. And there's another matter we would have to overcome."

I knew it and could sense the weight of what he was about to say. It was my main handicap at the moment.

"The cost," I murmured, my voice trembling. It was almost too hard to speak.

Doctor Marud nodded, a sympathetic look in his eyes.

"Yes. The surgery, the post-operative care, and the medications. It's all very expensive. You'll need to bring a significant amount of money."

My mind was racing. How could I come up with that kind of money? I had some savings, but it was nothing near what a transplant would cost.

"How much are we talking about?" I asked, dreading the answer.

"The money might be higher than fifty to hundred thousand dollars," the doctor replied. "That's depending on complications and the duration of her stay in the ICU."

I felt the ground tip and my knees gave in. Doctor Marud helped me to the chair. I could barely keep mum alive with the little money I had, and now I have to somehow find a way to pay for a life-saving transplant?

"I don't have that kind of money," I cried. "What am I supposed to do?"

"The dialysis would help but somehow, you'd have to find a way to pay the fees to commence with the surgery. That's the only way for Mrs. Fitzgerald to survive."

The doctor said there was still hope, but his voice was tinged with the kind of detachment that only comes from delivering bad news too many times. I didn't believe him. How could I, when every passing second seemed to take my mum further away from me?

I nodded numbly, my mind clouded with the thought of loans, selling what little we had at home, and calling a few friends for help. There were no extended relatives that would render financial aid.

''I'll figure something out," I forced a smile, more for myself as encouragement than for the doctor. A single thought kept running through my mind.

'How am I going to do this alone?'

ELLA

Looking at the documents in my hand, I wondered if I would be able to meet up. The nurse who had called for me to speak with the finance department of the hospital about my payment methods had looked very nice. I almost disregarded the gravity of her words and the fact that she was only doing her job.

I stared at the forms in my hand. Signing them felt like signing away the last shred of control I had over this entire situation. But what choice do I have? I was mum's only family.

I stepped out, away from it all. The hospital, my happiness and my sadness. I needed to find a way. My overnight bag in hand. I pulled out my phone and began scrolling through the contacts, looking for someone. Anyone, who might be able to actually help. I had no one. The only friend I had was the only number I could find familiar. My best friend, Freya Kimberly. I prayed for her to be with her phone.

"Hello, Freya?" I spoke into the phone as soon as the call went through.

"Ella?" She sounded like she was having fun. She was a party animal but she always had a solution for financial issues.

"I don't know what else to do, Freya. The bills keep piling up, and there's surgery," My voice cracked as I struggled to keep it together.

"You know what? Come over to mine. I can barely understand you." She said before the line went off.

The weight of the situation pressed down on me, squeezing the air from my lungs. I was helpless. We were sitting in Freya's apartment, the scent of coffee lingering in the air. I had come here hoping she'd have some kind of solution, but all I saw was pity in her eyes.

"You have been through a lot, dear. Your mum doesn't deserve all this. Nobody does." She rubbed my head. "That's a huge amount, Ella. How do you plan to get it?"

"I don't know what to do. Can you lend me some money? That's why I called. I have no friends other than you," It was a little bit difficult for me to ask. We were friends. I hoped on that to get something out. Anything at all would be helpful. Friends do anything for each other.

"Baby girl. I'm so sorry." She sighed disheartened. She looked as helpless as I was. I couldn't blame her. There was no way she could bring out that amount of money within the short amount of time. Who was I kidding? I burst into tears before I knew it.

"Girl, stop crying. Let me think." She sounded frustrated. I was probably disturbing her. She was a big girl who liked to party and I was disrupting her vibe by being a sobbing mess.

"I'm so sorry!" I laid down on the couch, using my overnight bag as headrest. I cried until there was no more tears. Then I felt Freya tap me a little to get up.

"Ella, I might know a way to get the money you need. It's like a mini job. You would enjoy it, in a way at least." She said slowly, her well done manicured nails tracing the rim of the coffee mug in her hand. She had barely touched the coffee.

"Mini job?" I asked, immediately wiping off the tears. A mini job? Like a part-time?

"Yeah, think of it as that. You might not like it though." She shrugged.

"At this point, I don't care what it is. I'll do anything to get that money so mum can have the transplant," I replied, desperation lacing my words.

The thought of losing my mother to something as preventable as money was a nightmare I couldn't imagine. If there was a way, then I had to see how it would go.

"Sure?"

"Tell me, Freya. What is the job?" I leaned closer to her.

Freya hesitated. Putting down her coffee, she faced me and leaned towards me. It was as though she was debating whether or not to continue telling me about this job opportunity. "Are you really sure?"

"Tell me about it, Freya. I'm ready for anything at all." I put on a brave face. I don't understand why she was taking so much time to mention one job.

Finally, she leaned in closer, placing her cupped hand on my ear, her voice dropped to a whisper. "There's this club. It is a secret one, I want you to come with me."

"Have you ever been to this club?" I asked. It sounded shady.

"Yes." She sighed. "One time, I desperately needed money to help Ralph pay something."

Ralph was Freya's ex-boyfriend. He was a criminal and very abusive person. She always provided for him, and he always claimed to love her. Truth was that she was the one always cleaning up his messes.

"That bastard!" I scoffed.

"Anyways, this club! It's not like anything you've ever heard of. The people there, they have more money than they know what to do with. Sometimes they're willing to help. After you have done something for them in return. Like a price to pay for their help," She looked excited to be telling me about this place.

My heart skipped a beat.

"What kind of price?" I asked, my mind screaming at me to back off from this discussion. Freya took a deep breath, just before she started her explanation.

"It's a masquerade club. Everyone wears masks, and no one's supposed to know who anyone is. It's all about the anonymity, and that's part of the appeal for them." She smiled, getting excited with the explanation.

"And ..." I was going to ask if the job needed to be done was something I would find difficult, like commiting murder but Freya cut me off.

"Ella! The wealthiest people in this city go there, looking for desperate people like us to perform menial tasks for them. Some of them are willing to pay a lot for those tasks, more than enough to cover your mother's surgery. Aren't you desperate enough?" She looked like she was getting annoyed.

The decision had already been made the moment she mentioned the desperate and money. In my current state, I'd do anything for my mother.

"Take me there," I said, my voice firm.

"Good. We need to find you dress, heels, a purse." Freya stood up walking to her wardrobe. She paused in her steps and turned to look at me from head to toe.

"What?" I asked, oblivious to her horrified state.

"You give off the stench of poverty, dear you need a full makeover, and there's not much time!" She shook her head.

"When are we going to the club?" I picked up my overnight bag and followed her to the room.

"We are hitting the club tonight!"

ELLA

The club was nothing like I'd imagined. I didn't even have much imagination of a club to begin with, and Freya did a bad job of describing what to expect. Hidden away in the most exclusive part of the city, its entrance was discreet, almost invisible to anyone who didn't know where to look or what to look for. Funny story was that it had its own garage for the wealthy, or so I was told. The entrance Freya and I used was very different from where some people used. She said those were the wealthy ones.

The moment we stepped inside, I was enveloped in an atmosphere of mystery and affluence. It was very beautiful. No loud music like I was expecting. Crystal chandeliers cast a warm, golden glow over the walls that looked like gem stones on their own, and the air was thick with the scent of expensive perfume and whispered secrets. Freya and I really were from different worlds compared to these people. Imagine a sewer rat and a well fed hamster standing side by side.

Freya had handed me a mask before we entered the main room. It was a delicate piece of art adorned with black feathers and intricate lace. I slipped it on, feeling the cool satin against my skin.

"This place is beautiful, Freya." I whispered audibly. Her black mask with golden feathers made her look sophisticated.

"Don't show that you're poor, Ella." She whispered back, already carrying herself with poise. I copied the elegance.

As I looked around the room, the other guests were similarly masked, their identities obscured by glittering disguises. The music was so soft and oddly sensual. Whoever picked out the playlist was a romantic. It was like stepping into another world entirely. One where anything could happen, and the rules of reality no longer applied. What was I doing at such a place when I was supposed to be looking for money to cover mum's transplant?

Right! I was here to earn that ridiculously large amount by doing a small task as demanded by whoever was willing to spend.

Freya led me deeper into the club, past groups of masked figures lounging on plush sofas, their conversations too low to make out.

"You can do this!" She smirked. What was I supposed to do?

"How do I go about this?" I asked her. I was absolutely clueless.

"Flirt with any wealthy gentleman and listen to his demands. They're mostly billionaires." She smiled before leaving me on my own to dance with a masked stranger.

Flirt? I am an unemployed 25 years old virgin. How do I even flirt with a man? I stood at the spot where she left me. Frozen from a lack of knowledge. A waiter came towards me with a tray. The golden liquid called to me surreptitiously and like a desert merchant I answered the call of the golden oasis in front of me. Drinking the liquid and loving the taste. It burned but it had a fruity aftertaste.

"You might want to slow down in your champagne gulping festival." A deep male voice called from behind me. I dropped the glass of champagne back into the tray.

"Excuse me? Was I not supposed to?" I asked with a tiny burp. It was my second time in my entire life having champagne. I looked at him, taking in his entire image.

I was standing in front of a man who was taller than anyone else in the room. In comparison, it was like a small maize plant standing next to a sturdy pine tree. His presence was commanding attention in the room. His mask was simple, black satin and gold feathers, but there was something in the way he stood. The way he looked at me also made me nervous. It made my heart pound in my chest.

"You want to discuss a task with me?" I asked. My speech was getting slurred but I doubt the gentleman would notice. He was too focused on my exposed chest.

I searched the room for Freya and saw her furiously making out with a masked man. It was probably the same guy she had danced with. I couldn't tell.

"Should we go to my room?" The tall stranger asked. He was smiling. I couldn't really remember where I had heard his voice before. That drink was strong.

"Do I know you?" I asked with another tiny burp.

"You're really cute." His smile got wider showing his pearly whites. I was sure that under that mask, he would be a delicious looking man.

"Thank you," I smiled. "Why am I going to your room?"

The man's gaze didn't waver from my chest as he reached into his pocket. My eyes almost bulged out from the socket as he pulled out a thick wade of notes, far more money than I'd ever seen in one place.

"I'd like to take you to bed." He leaned down and whispered those words in my ear. As in sleep with me?

"Bed? Like have sex with me?" I could feel the effects of the champagne leaving.

"Yes princess. That's what this club is for." He kissed my cheek.

I looked to see Freya looking at me. She mouthed the words, 'GOOD LUCK' to me. I needed more than luck for this.

The tall stranger held me by the waist and nudged me towards the stairs. When we got to the room, I was still frozen. He walked to a couch that looked obviously expensive and sat down.

"Only those truly desperate for something come to this club. I've got money to waste and you are desperate. Unless you don't want the money?" He asked in a scary voice.

He was right. My eyes became blurry from the tears. I was desperate and my mother's life was riding on how this night played out. I got nothing to lose other than my virginity to get this money. And if I didn't comply, mum won't survive.

"I want it," I replied. He said nothing more. Just stared at me through that mask, scrutinizing every fibre of my being. The way he stared felt oddly familiar. I was scared, disgusted and disheartened but I stilled my resolved by reminding my self that I was doing this to save my mother.

I took off the dress, letting the straps slide off my shoulders. It pooled around my ankles. My breathing was shallowed and labored. He got up from the couch and came close to kiss my neck. Using his firm hands to cup my breasts. It was the first time someone else ever touched them. I forced myself to stand still when all I wanted to do was run and hide.

"Are you ready?" he asked, his voice deep, resonant, and completely unreadable behind the mask.

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. All I could do was hope that whatever came next would be worth it. Closing my eyes, I let him do all the work.