Broken Billionaire

"It had been a chilly evening in the city of New York. I had just finished living one of the most exceptional evenings of my life. The soft cool breeze struck my face as I descended from Mark's sleek black Audi SUV. "Thanks for an incredible night," I vocalized, leaning on the window, giggling. "Your presence made it incredible," he retorted. My lips sculpted a beautiful smile. "Goodnight, darling," he extended his palm to touch the tip of my finger. As I began to walk away slowly in my Jimmy Choo heels, I rotated towards the humming noise of his window sliding further down.

"Do you need me to escort you in?" he inquired gently. "No, it's alright, I'll manage," I responded hastily. He inclined further from the window, moving nearer to me, and I ambled a step closer to him. "I love you," he said, and we leaned in for an impeccably timed kiss through the car window. "I love you too," I retorted as I turned swiftly to ascend the steps to my apartment building. It was notably chilly outside. "Welcome back, Miss Sophia," Kent, the security guard, greeted with a playful tone as I ambled past him. "Glad to return, Kent," I rejoined in an equally playful tone, patting his arm and giving a slight wink. I entered the elevator and hit the button for the top floor - our family penthouse. As the elevator journeyed upward, I retrieved my phone from my clutch to see an avalanche of notifications from my friends sharing about some party at a new club and the new people they met there, causing me to chuckle as I walked into my penthouse. It was around 11:30 at night, and I had been hoping my parents were not home. To my dismay, a voice echoed from the office; it was my father. "Sophia, I need you here," his tone demanded sternly. I was curious if I had breached my curfew, which had been set at 11 PM since my seventh grade, a rule I had not respected for years. I placed my Louis Vuitton bag on the counter and moved towards his office, my heart pounding. Once inside, he curtly ushered me to sit across from his desk. "Where have you been? Who were you with?" He probed, his tone teetering on irritation. "I spent the evening with Mark, can you explain what's going on?" I retorted with my most innocent voice. His scowl and irritated demeanor only deepened. "I requested you home early this morning because we had vital matters to discuss," He was practically roaring at this point as I faintly recalled him expressing this while I was drying my hair for school earlier this morning....

"I'm terribly sorry, I may have forgotten. What's so urgent that you wish to discuss?" I replied in my most innocent voice. His tone softened when he began recollecting tales about his childhood best friend, Aron Arthur.

I had heard many a tales about him, about the epoch my father had spent with him during their adolescence. I also knew about his extraordinary wealth, significantly surpassing that of my family, which is a rare occurrence. He was born into affluence, and is now ranked amongst the wealthiest men in the nation. My father then redirected the discourse towards AronArthur's son, Andrew, who my father claims is slightly older than me. I showed my disapproval, well aware that he is at least five years my elder. I scarcely heard about Andrew, mostly due to his boarding school attendance since the tender age of seven, somewhere in California. Thus, I listened with rapt attention.

"The time is ripe for Andrew to take over his family venture, but he needs a wife for that." my father proclaimed. The thought of a marriage at such a tender age made me shudder.

"His father and I have forged an agreement and business deal, thus you will be wed to Andrew."

My immediate reaction was chuckling, presuming my father was jesting. However, his stern look instantly alarmed me.

"You will be getting wedded as soon as possible," was his stern command in an unusually possessive and controlling tone that he generally reserved for my mother.

Without delay, I rebutted that I'm just seventeen, too young for marriage, and that this is simply not happening. I still could not fathom what he was conveying.

His intense stare heightened, and so did his tone.

"You are to wed Andrew; this is not up for debate. Leave my office now, this discussion is over" he demanded.

His tone was frightening and severe, triggering tears. The image of my father began to blur.

"Leave NOW!" he yelled once more, compelling me to dash from his office, running straight into my mother.

"Did you know about this?" I questioned, my voice trembling with grief. My mother looked at me with compassionate eyes clouded with sorrow.

"Yes, and this will turn out beneficial," she comforted me.

"How could you?" I screamed, snatching my handbag from the counter as I bolted from her, stormed into my bedroom and slammed the door shut.

"Collapsing onto my bed, the urge to shed tears and vent to my friends overcame me, so I retrieved my phone from my bag and attempted to call them. However, none of them responded to the Group FaceTime call as they were all at some party at the new club on 6th Ave. I peeled off my garnet, skin-tight Oscar De La Renta designer dress that I had worn for my date with Logan the previous night. Once it was removed, I unclad entirely and immersed myself into my bath, pre-filled with warm water at my request to the housekeeper earlier that morning.

A sense of relaxation washed over me as I sunk into the tub, the aroma of lavender bath salts filling my nostrils. How was marriage at only seventeen, as a senior in high school, possible? Having a boyfriend compounded the complexity of the situation! My thoughts jumbled as tears continued to cascade down my face, vanishing into my bath.

Laid in my bath, reliving the past 20 minutes repeatedly until finally, I rose and carefully stepped out of the tub onto the heated marble floor. Wrapping myself in a warm towel that had been warming on the towel bar, my body greeted the heat gratefully.

Leaving the bathroom, I slipped into a light pink silk pair of sleeping shorts and a matching spaghetti strap top before settling in my bed. Grabbing my laptop, I began my research about Andrew Arthur.

His image adorned the tabloids regularly, labeled as a 'billionaire bad boy bachelor' spotted regularly with numerous women at nightclubs and bars. Scandal upon scandal unfolded, however, each seemed to disclose the same trite information. Digging deeper, I was continuously taken aback by the new information surfacing. Reportedly, he faced several lawsuits due to his ruthless and relentless behavior in business, as well as towards women. Of course, all of those had been conveniently brushed under the carpet using money and bribery, common among the wealthy elite.

He was often dubbed as 'Satan', known for arrogance, vanity, egocentrism, and domineering behavior. Again, these attributes seemed fairly widespread among the boys and men in my social circle, especially at my high school. Having read enough, I ended my research. Cruel and ruthless, I was resolute in not marrying him. However, I I knew I had to do something when a ringtone I recognized played. Panic engulfed me - Mark, my perfect boyfriend whom I was deeply in love with, was calling. A maelstrom of worries, thoughts beset me but realized I had to answer the call.

"Managed to get home safe?" Mark's voice was sweet and refreshing, almost a balm.

"Yeah, my parents haven't materialized, so I'm preparing to retire for the night. We can talk in the morning at school, okay?" I found myself weaving a lie so effortlessly.

"Absolutely, sleep well," Mark responded even more warmly.

Immediately after the call ended, I buried my face into my pillow. A thought suddenly struck - will I still go to school, especially once I'm... married?! The mere utterance of the word pained me, but I realized that I might ruin my reputation if anyone at school discovered my impending marriage.

The exhaustion of my tears now manifested as a stinging sensation in my eyes and a throbbing headache. My phone rang again - a reassuring ringtone that instantly helped soothe me. I answered the FaceTime to talk to Anna, my best friend. Seeing my tear-streaked and swollen face, she was immediately filled with fury, assuming Mark had upset me. I laughed at her assumption and provided her with all the details. It felt like a load lifted off my shoulders, finally confiding in someone, particularly my closest friend who I knew would be supportive in this challenging time. Her shock was equal to mine, but she remained calm and assured me. Not long after I recounted the happenings, she suggested she had an idea."

"'Let's seek him out on social media. He's got to be somewhere; he's still relatively young,' Sophia proposed with a notable desperation creeping into her tone. Our plan was divided with me being responsible for Instagram, and she was covering Twitter and Facebook. I engaged my Instagram and saw my public account had just amassed over 10,000 followers. Browsing through the photos of myself in figure-hugging dresses and swimwear, I shuddered at the notion of so many people having access to such personal visuals, yet I had to preserve the image I had so meticulously crafted and now, more than ever, stick to the mission at hand.

Exiting my profile, I initiated a search for Andrew Arthur. Numerous profiles with the same name appeared, none were his. I reiterated my search several times, but Andrew Arthur appeared to be absent from Instagram altogether. 'Any luck?' I sought Anna progress anxiously. 'None, he hasn't left any digital footprint on neither Facebook nor Twitter. Did your search on Instagram yield anything?' she responded with discernible despair in her voice. 'No,' I admitted dejectedly.

We continued our conversation for a bit longer and decided to rendezvous before school to further discuss the situation. We both hung up, ready to appease our minds with sleep. I leaned back, clapped my hands to extinguish the lights, and was enveloped by darkness. Drifting my eyes closed, I sought refuge from this unanticipated reality, now my new norm."

My eyes darted open, disturbed by the incessant ringing of my alarm. I snatched my phone to check the time - 7:30 AM. Understanding the severity of my time crisis, I scrambled out of bed in haste, pulling on my plaid uniform skirt, a white blouse, and a blue sweater. Dashingly, I entered the bathroom, brushed through my long, dark hair, and applied a light coat of mascara on my lashes. Lip gloss was hastily spread across my lips as I sprinted down the hallway towards the elevator, set for school. 'Sophia,' my father's stern voice called out, forcing me to turn and face him while pressing the button for the elevator. 'Make sure you're home right after school today, there will be serious penalties for tardiness,' his hostile tone sent a chill down my spine. As the elevator door opened, I hopped in quickly. 'Ok,' I managed to respond just before the doors closed. I bolted through the lobby of my apartment just skimming past the doors when I heard Kent call out, 'Good morning, Miss Sophia.' I returned the greeting with a wave as I continued my jog down the street towards my school. Despite its proximity of only a few blocks, by the time I arrived, I was barely five minutes early. Panting slightly, I jogged over to Anna. 'Hey, we agreed to meet before school, not five minutes before it starts,' she playfully chided. 'I overslept, sorry!' I managed to reply, a cheeky grin gracing my face. 'Let's hurry up!' She urged, grabbing my hand to lead me towards the entrance of the school. Our friends flocked us immediately, sharing tales about a new club. My eyes scanned the hallway until I found Mark. Making a beeline for him, he greeted me with a soft kiss. His friends teased him while making funny faces at him. 'Hey, guys,' I responded with a tone of faux arrogance, resulting in them bowing down mockingly to feign adulation. This jest, a running trend since the last week, caused laughter to bubble out of me. I snatched one of their footballs and attempted to run away before Mark intercepted me, pulling me in for a kiss and retrieving the ball from my grip.

"The day whizzed past, and I found myself caught in a predicament - should I return home after school to confront whatever my father had in store for me or choose to delay and face his ire later? His stern tone and forceful voice reverberated in my mind, sending shivers down my spine. Choosing the former, I decided to go home straight after school. Yet, that decision did not deter me from taking my time. Anna concurred to accompany me home from school for the day, since Mark was occupied with practice.

En route, we indulged in our favorite iced coffees from our usual coffee shop, admired the dresses on display in the boutique windows, until we found ourselves at the of my apartment building. After a reluctant goodbye to Anna, I stepped inside, share the usual niceties with Kent, and boarded the elevator.

The lift journey seemed shorter than usual and my heart pounded, challenging the confines of my chest. As the elevator doors opened, revealing my apartment and my father waiting mere feet away, I could feel the trepidation build within me. He looked visibly annoyed, likely due to being 20 minutes later than usual. Yet, he refrained from passing any comment as I entered. My mother stepped into the room shortly after, adding to peculiarity of the situation. It was unusual to see both my parents home at this hour. Alternating my gaze between both my parents who were dressed in their everyday attire yet seemed oddly fancier. As I heard my father clear his throat, my heart sank a bit lower."

The Arthurs are coming over in an hour to discuss the marriage. Go get changed out of your uniform, and please, wear something respectable," his voice was sharp and strong, and I fought back tears as I nodded and walked to my room. Andrew Arthur was coming here, in one hour, my future husband. I can't do this right now. I can't meet him. I need to leave.

I picked up my phone and dialed Anna's number and told her what I had just heard. Tears were flowing down my face now. I was so scared. She comforted me and told me that she would meet me outside my apartment in half an hour, and we could go somewhere together. "Dress hot," she stated bluntly before hanging up.

I couldn't believe this was happening. I changed out of my uniform into a white off-the-shoulder Valentino dress I had bought from Bergdorf Goodman last week. It complemented my body shape and brought out my tanned skin. I slipped on some nude heels and went to the bathroom. I assumed we would go to the trendy clubs all our friends had been talking about, so I fixed mascara and put on a little makeup and checked the clock. It had been nearly half an hour, and I needed to hurry. I slowly and carefully walked toward the elevator, trying not to bang my heels against the floor too loudly and get caught. I reached the elevator, and the door closed. My heart raced.

As the elevator door opened, I grabbed my phone to check if Anna was here. I swiftly walked out of the elevator and bumped into something rock hard. I slowly looked up as I apologized. It was him. I could feel his rock-hard abs against my body, and he must have been the most handsome man I had ever seen. I had seen all the pictures, but seeing him in real life took my breath away. I stood there, shocked and scared. I looked to my left and saw his father; they were early. "Can you... move?" his eyes sent daggers at me, and my head swirled.

He hadn't recognized me! "Yes, I'm so sorry," I apologized once again and swiftly moved out of his way, trying to make a clean break from the building. "Leaving so soon, Miss Jack?" Kent asked. I shuddered. Andrew and his father must have heard it. I heard mumbling behind me as I ran out without responding and grabbed Anna.

She questioned me as we ran, but before I could answer, I felt hands wrap around my waist and stop me. He flipped me around to face him; it was Kent. "Kent, what are you doing? Let go of me!" I was basically shouting, and people on the other side of the sidewalk stopped and stared. Anna stood behind me, frozen. "I'm sorry, Miss Jack. I was asked by the Arthurs to get you." My heart sank even deeper. He held my wrist lightly as I followed him back into the building. Andrew and his father were nowhere to be seen in the lobby as Kent brought me to the elevator. I stepped inside, accepting my defeat, and once again pressed the button for the top floor.

As the elevator doors opened, I couldn't help but feel like escaping this marriage was not an option anymore. As I walked into my penthouse, I was met by my mother and father, who looked furious and embarrassed, and the two men I had bumped into before. I walked in with my head down before I heard a familiar voice speak up. "So glad you decided to show up." I looked up to see Andrew smirking with intense anger in his eyes. Fear seeped into my head as I realized he was the man I was going to marry.

I smiled lightly, not showing my teeth, and walked over with grace and fake confidence to join the rest of them sitting around the kitchen counter. Unfortunately, the last seat left was across the table from Andrew, which permitted him to stare at me with fire and rage the entire time our parents spoke, again sending sudden terror and fear into me. Andrew would chime in every so often with maturity and strength, yet it still felt like his eyes never left me.

Around 45 dreary minutes later, his father announced that he had an urgent meeting to attend and would be leaving. My parents thought it best to accompany him down the elevator, but I knew they just wanted to leave me, all by myself, with Andrew. He walked over to me with the same fire and rage in his bright blue eyes. He stood close to me, and the intimidation and fear got to me, letting just one tear slip out of my eye and roll down my face.

He stepped closer and lifted his hand toward my face; panic crept into me. "You embarrassed me deeply today," he said with agitation and a slight smirk as he gently wiped the tear off my face with his thumb, sending shivers down my spine. "You will never do that again." His voice was void of humor, and strangely enough, while his eyes seemed to penetrate straight through me, it wasn't threatening. For what felt like the millionth time since I laid eyes on him, I felt shivers fall upon me as he turned around and walked into the elevator that was already open and waiting for him. I didn't even notice him press the button, but as the door closed, I felt more tears slide down my face and watched as the elevator doors closed and the man whom both I feared and would marry disappeared inside.