Entangled with the Billionaire Heir

Stacy's POV

I missed another opportunity to get a job. Even when I had a smiley face on, my shirt and skirt were crisp and smooth. My makeup is lightly done.

One that wasn't going to have the female employees wondering if I've gone to steal the favor of their superior and colleagues, or one a female superior would disagree with.

I made sure I did everything right, but the moment I heard the man say with a weak smile,

"I'm really sorry,"

I needed no further explanations. A vacancy I had well applied for. An interview I earned.

How was another candidate suddenly given the bag just yesterday? I thought on my way home as the afternoon sun hit my face. "Thank goodness I reused my sunscreen before leaving home." I said to myself.

I could see my mom trailing down the stairs, and I knew her hawk eyes, firm but gentle, were gawking at me from where I sat down.

I fought back the tears in my eyes, preparing to pretend all was okay. I couldn't bring myself to her. I have failed again; I don't know what to do again.

I was staring down at my phone before I realized she was already standing before me. I pretended whatever it was I didn't know about it.

Staring at my phone made it so oblivious she was now standing there, but what I wasn't prepared for was when she crouched down, her hands on my knees, her face warm and her eyes tender, telling me that everything was going to be fine.

Perhaps, I needed not to lie. I couldn't hold back the tears at that moment, and I crashed my head into my mom's embrace, soaking her dress with my tears.

"You will get another one," she said as she patted my shoulders gently, but I could tell she was only saying that to console me.

"What makes you so sure?" I asked between sniffles, trying to get myself together.

She smiled, "I just know so, and as for those people, they can shove their appointment up their asses!"

I burst into a fit of laughter, "Mom!" and I could tell she just wanted to cheer me up from the way she smiled back.

In a few seconds, the somber feeling clouds my expression, and I rested my head on her shoulders.

"I just want to give us a better life, Mom. Am I not old and conscious enough to do that?"

"Look at you speaking like all you do is sit home and play video games!" she frowns,

"You step out there all day, seeking out every opportunity available. Hell, you were the one who made me understand the modern way of writing CV's and applying for jobs via emails."

"You made me a critique of how well you composed your application letters, how well your choice of dresses looked, that alone should remind you, my girl, you are doing more than enough."

"No, I'm not." I whisper, and another stream of tears comes pouring down.

"My poor girl", I heard the hurt in her voice as she embraced me tightly.

"It would have not been this difficult if Joe had never been around," I mutter, and I knew my mom heard it when she went rigid beside me.

We remained silent for a few more seconds, and in that little moment, I knew whatever she was going to say as always was only meant to comfort me. I knew a part of her still blamed me for Joe. Still blamed me for what happened after Joe.

"Well," she sighed, pulling me away from her so I was facing her, "I don't think you would have considered saving up that much if Joe hadn't suggested making an investment into your culinary skills"

"Joe had offered to support you, and no one would have known he had ulterior motives. Joe happened because it was meant to."

"It's up to us to decide how we want to continue writing the story after Joe." She said with a playful wink, and in no time, I was smiling.

"Let's get you something to eat," she chirped as she stood up from the sofa.

"No. Mom ..." I tried protesting, but I knew I had lost the battle right before it began when the clatter of a plate against the kitchen counter filled the atmosphere.

My mind wandered far to the most recent application I had submitted to a restaurant; my last resort. I wasn't religious, but at that moment, I folded my hands and whispered a prayer.

Marcelo's POV

I restrained myself from slamming the door hard when I stepped outside, my fists clenched into tight fists.

A playful smirk danced over the lips of Cathy; my best friend but I wasn't in the mood to entertain her jokes. It didn't stop her from trying though.

"You look more handsome when you frown, kittie," she called out the name she used when she wanted to tease me, locking her arms around mine.

"Don't call me that," I growled, taking a turn for the elevators. Cathy cackled, obviously aware of what had transpired in my father's office.

"You should go," she whispered as soon as we walked into the elevator. "Really."

I stared at her, my brows arched. "Are you being serious right now? What part of my father's treacherous plans are you a part of?"

She held up her hands on surrender, "Whoa, whoa, take it easy there comrade." she chuckled.

"I knew for a fact your father had informed Nick to prepare for your arrival and a place to stay in Chicago. Trust your dad to be the master at getting what he wants."

"Well, I can't always give him what he wants. What he wants is destroying my life. My goals. My future."

"For heaven's sake, this company he's seeking out for in Chicago cannot be trusted! How can they possibly have a prototype for a project Sandstone Constructions is seeking to buy?"

"Did you just say Sandstone?" Cathy asked, her jaw dropped.

"Exactly. I hate The Raven more than my father does, but there are limits to the lengths we go to expert revenge."

Cathy sighed, her exhale reverberating in the calm of the elevator's atmosphere. "Mr. Jones did lose a lot on that day," she whispered, avoiding my gaze.

Flashes of a memory, year old, skidded across my mind, and I could feel my scarred heart erupting in pain. "I lost something too," I said bitterly.

The elevator doors chimed as it slid open, but it was too late for me to read the expression on Cathy's face when she pushed me so hard my back crashed against the elevator walls.

"Get down!" She yelled as she pulled out a pistol, her screams immediately countered by gunshots.

We were under attack.

Stacy's POV

"Phew!" I exhaled loudly, a huge grin on my face as I waltzed back into Jennifer's office. "That was quite the deal!"

I chirped, taking a seat opposite her. She laughed in response, her eyes following the wad of dollar notes I had received in exchange for a job well-done.

"All it took was convincing the knucklehead you were the best to consult when it came to yummy bites," she scoffed, turning her head to her work desk.

I rolled my eyes in response.

"Right, but that knucklehead over there, well he recommended me to another person! I had barely walked out of his office when I got a call." I said, my voice now high-pitched.

The day started out well, and it was all thanks to Jennifer.

It made me wonder for a moment how things would have been different if she wasn't present, because she made most of the jobs that I have landed in the past a possibility.

She has been my best friend since high school and made sure to stick around even when I hadn't been the consistent friend.

I beamed a smile of gratitude, hoping it compensates the many thanks I have said to her before.

"Why are you blushing, hey?" Jennifer inquired, her brows arched, "Wait a minute," she gasped, "don't tell me Ethan asked you out."

"Hell, I didn't even come across the spike face guy!" I laughed. "And please, loving is a thing far too tolerable for my heart."

Jennifer rolled her eyes, "Yeah right ... and that was how Mike had requested an extra picture of you and him kissing at Prom."

I was about to be swallowed whole by the feeling of shame.

I lunged at her, my hands pressing her mouth shut just before she could utter another word.

"Can you keep it down?!" She held up her hands in surrender, muffling a giggle when I finally let go of her.

We settled in silence as I let her examine something on her laptop.

"Speak of the devil," she whispered, "Stacy, come see this."

I noticed a change in her expression, "What is it?" I asked, walking up to her side of the desk.

She remained mute, but what stared back at me from her computer screen was her answer.

Marcelo Jones Wilson, 28 years old CEO of the fast rising M&E Restaurant/ Fast Food Chain in Mexico.

My eyes skidded over the loads of titles and information, but they kept resting on the colors of his eyes, the firm but tender appearance of his lips, his silky smooth black hair, tucked back so perfectly.

I almost hissed when I saw a strand of hair falling over his face but it seemed to have been done that way intentionally.

"Hm-hmm!" she cleared her throat, and it took me a few seconds to realize Jennifer was glaring at me as I paid complete attention to what she was showing me on her laptop. I almost drool over her laptop.

I wanted to protest, a believable reason for her to see I wasn't drooling at the picture of a guy she's just shown me on her computer, but my excuses got stuck in my throat.

"Is he the CEO of the restaurant you applied to M&E's?"

I was still thinking of what it would feel running my hands against his lips and his silky smooth hair, my heart racing faster than normal.

I haven't felt this electrical shiver from other men who caught my eyes in the past, and it made me wonder for how long I had fallen out of love, how long I had deprived myself of being loved.

"Y-yeah," I stuttered, surprised by how my body was beginning to betray me.

This wasn't me; I couldn't imagine myself kneeling before Ethan, completely consumed and inflamed by the need to be touched, but it was hard to quench this flame.

It was hard to concentrate.

"Hey!" Jennifer snapped her fingers, "do you even remember I helped you apply there?"

Thankfully, she closed her laptop and her gaze was fixed on me.

"Y-yeah, I mean, I applied to so many restaurants whilst delivering delicacies to your work friends, so I must have forgotten about this one."

"No way. You definitely remember this one, because just yesterday you had been so worried this was going to flop since the others didn't work out."

It took Jennifer a few seconds to figure out what was happening. "Wait ..."

"Jennifer, please," I cried, covering my eyes with my palms. She began laughing, and it took minutes of begging to keep her silent.

"It's not like you're going to bump into him by coincidence anyway," she remarked, her eyes reddened scanning my reddened cheeks.

"He has 17 branches within and outside the country! He isn't going to be loitering about this Godforsaken city!"

"True, he is probably wasting away funds from his business somewhere in The Arab Emirates."

Jennifer chuckled, "Hey. What if you got appointed this week?"

It suddenly dawned on me that I hadn't prepared myself for how to manage catering for my mom and handling a new job, should it come my way.

"I never thought about that, now that I think of it. Well, prepare to make a shift in your weekly schedules." I said with a wink.

Jennifer's eyes widened, "Excuse me, but I can't remember having the required skills to look after mommies?"

"Don't make it sound like that?" I laughed.

Marcelo's POV~

"Are you going to see me down the plane, or are you going to keep straining your facial muscles?""I have something else to do," Cathy muttered, stuffing some files into a briefcase and handing it over to me, "have these."

Cathy was still reeling from not bothering to investigate the unplanned attack on our building a few days back.

"Hey," I walked up to her, "I'm very sure those were -

"One of your rivals? Here?!" Cathy thundered, "because I dare to differ."

I rolled my eyes, "Cathy, you probably won't believe, but the Raven had his men fly down from Chicago just to crash in this country."

"You said it yourself, Marcelo. Your father wasn't trying to force you out of here. It's dangerous for you to remain here."

"That's because he's trying to compete with The Raven again."

Cathy pressed her fingers against her temples in frustration, and just then, a call distracts me from holding her gaze.

"Take a bow, it's Princess Ella speaking." I heard her familiar voice chirp over the phone, and I was smiling in no time.

("Ella, how are you?"

"Dad just told me you are coming down to Chicago.")

I raised a brow at Cathy, who raised her hands in surrender. "Did you inform her about this?" I whispered, placing my hand over the speaker. She shakes her head, and I placed the phone back to my ear.

"Chicago? No way! Dad must have made a -

"It's no mistake, and I am expecting you soon. Don't you know how much I missed you?"

Goodness lord.

She was going to send me flying over there in an instant. I thought, "Ella ..."

"No. I don't want to hear it. If your jet breaks down, you can order mine to be sent to you whilst jumping off the jet."

I can't believe she is showing off to me lol,

I chuckled, "How can that be possible?!"

"You will have a parachute on. Easy peasy." She said, and I could picture a proud smirk on her face.

"You have two days to get down here. Muah!"

I smiled, retracing another number from my contacts. "Scope the surroundings before my arrival. And no word to Ella about me coming,"

I smirked, and Cathy was already nodding disapprovingly, "I have a prank installed for her."

Ella tries to wriggle her hand free from where she laid buried, her little frame covered in splinters of wood, rubbles and fire.

She steadies her breath, her demeanor calm and collected when she pries one of her hands free. In no time, she is out of the rubble, her forehead gashed with a deep cut.

"Mom!" She called out, her tiny voice echoing as the night wind, chilly and unforgiving, caressed her battered skin.

The mansion was torn apart, most of the rooms set on fire. Panic slowly crept up her throat. "Mom!"She yelled, her eyes trying to fight away tears.

She turns around in circles, and she should hear a gunshot from somewhere. Instinctively, she ducked, afraid she was the only one in the building.

She stopped in her tracks when she noticed drops of blood pooling a hair's length away from her feet.

Her mind was telling her not to stare upwards, but she did.

Her mother's face stared back at her, bloated, her body missing, blood still squirting from her neck.

Ella screamed in her sleep and it took Rose, her personal handmaiden to calm her down, when Rose held onto her firmly, but she was still thrashing wildly on the bed.

"I'm here with you, Ella," Rose said, moved to tears. "Open your -

"What in the world is going on here?!" Naomi, one of the mansion's maids, thundered into the room, her gaze fixated on Ella as she approached.

Ella had snapped out of her trance, obviously startled by Naomi's hostile voice. Rose was about to respond when Naomi shoved her aside. Ella whimpered, still shaken from her nightmare.

Naomi gripped Ella's cheek, her fingers digging deep into her skin. "You just have to disturb the quiet of the mansion, huh?"

"Why are you doing that to her?! Let her be!" Rose yelled, trying to push Naomi off Ella. Ella couldn't stop the tears flowing down her cheeks.

She just stared back plainly at Naomi, muffling her cries as Naomi growled with respite.

"You cannot keep disturbing the peace of the mansion, understand? You cannot keep inconveniencing me!"

"Mr Marcelo -

Naomi gripped Rose by the throat, finally letting go of Ella. Her voice grew even darker, her hands pressing so tight on Rose's throat all the blood in her body rushed up to her face, the veins in her throat bulging out like they were going to escape their entrapment.

"One word out of this room, and I will murder you two. Got it?!"

Ella shuddered as she watched Naomi walk out of the room, slamming the door. Rose rushed up to Ella, her eyes pleading silently.

She can't be pleading for her job at this point, for her life was already on the line, should any word of Naomi's rebellion get out to Marcelo. She wrapped Ella tight in her embrace, hoping to offer her comfort.

"I want my brother here," Ella whispered, her voice breaking. Rose hugged her even tighter,

"Naomi was only joking. You shouldn't mind her words," she pulled away from Ella, wiping off her tears, "okay?"

"But she wasn't joking," Ella protested, "she had that look on her face when my mom was dying." Rose stared at Ella in disbelief, her mind a maze, trying to figure out what meaning she was to read to what Ella had just said.

***

Stacy's POV~

"You don't seem happy," Jennifer whispered as she pulled away from my embrace, settling on the sofa. "You didn't get the job?"

"No!" I whined, "that's not it."

"Then why are you ... "She gestured at my face like this?"

"I'm really counting on M&E's instead," I said soberly. Jennifer's eyes lightened up, but just before I could realize what she was thinking, it was too late.

"You are this eager to meet your charming lord, Marcelo Jones?" Jennifer teased with a wink.

I craned my neck just to be sure my mom was out of ear shot. "Goodness! You are in such a haste! Well, I understand. The guy's so hot -"

"Can you just shut it, Jenny?!" I shrieked, my cheeks flaring. As much as I didn't want to think about him at that moment, I tried conjuring the image of him I had seen on Jennifer's laptop.

A tiny voice whispered in my mind: This isn't you; you've just been sex-deprived for long. Bed him one time and you'd be calm again. I almost felt myself gasp at my own thoughts, suppressing my wild thoughts before I spilled them out to Jennifer.

"But really, Stacy, what's wrong? I know you don't like your old workplace again but is it that bad?"

"It's not that. I mean, I do think it's great and all, but ... the pay we ended up agreeing to? That's something special delicacy deliveries would offer me in just two calls."

"No way! They offered to pay -"

"$2,500 according to the email, I know," I rolled my eyes, "but they changed their budgets as soon as I was interviewed."

"So why didn't you say anything?!"

"Well ... I need a stable source of income, and ... I never can tell who is going to be my next client. Should I stick to delivering home-made meals and confectionaries? I can't rely on that only to cater for mom."

I felt my eyes stung with tears, and Jennifer pulled me into a quick embrace.

"Hey, listen. You're stressing yourself out too much. I know you're putting a lot of effort into your thoughts and decisions, and Mrs Helen and I, for one, can testify to that.

You know what? Let's see what happens this week. I have a friend at M&E's. Maybe we should try to get a certain response from them on whether or not you'd be called in for a interview."

My eyes shone with gratitude, "Really?!"

"Yeah!" Jennifer chuckled, "It shouldn't take up to a week."

I embraced her tightly. "Thank you," I whispered.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

Naomi was striding back to her station, her anger flaring.

She hadn't noticed the silhouette hanging in the dark before it landed a kick that made her knees give off.

A gun was aimed at her head, and she smiled as the night lights illuminated the face of her attacker.

"Mabel."