The Billionaire Rejected Me

Title: Prologue

"Say 'fuck you,' kiddo."

"Fuc-"

"What kind of nonsense are you teaching my child!" I interrupted just as my child was about to speak.

I was only halfway up the stairs when I heard the shameless things this man was teaching my child. He's just like his older brother, who left me high and dry while I was three weeks pregnant.

"So that when he meets my brother, he'll already be an expert!" He laughed and tickled my child's stomach.

I didn't know how he found out I was pregnant and that his brother was the father. Zon was three years old when he suddenly appeared, threatening to tell his brother if I didn't allow him near his nephew.

"Just leave, Laki!" I was just short of throwing my slipper at this grinning demon.

"You're bad, Tito Laki. You made my Momma angry." My five-year-old acted out, crossing his little arms over his chest. He's turning six soon.

"Do you want your daddy, kiddo? I can bring him here-"

"Really?" He seemed to have fooled my child again.

"Laki?" I caught Laki's attention, so he turned to me. "Would you like a double slap?"

He quickly raised both his hands as if surrendering, but he still wore a smirk.

I remembered what happened back then. I was just sixteen years old when Zon's father left me.

I held my belly while crying in front of the father of the child I was carrying.

"Who is she, Laz?" the beautiful woman asked gently.

"Get in my car, baby," Laz told his companion. He turned to me and glared. "What are you still looking at? Leave!"

I didn't leave. I stayed and continued to cry in front of him.

"Laz? Why is she crying? Tell me," her voice was so gentle, like an angel.

"Get in my car, now, Sammantha," Laz cooed sweetly to the woman.

His treatment of the woman made my chest ache even more.

"L-Lazarus, please..." I begged until I found myself kneeling in front of him.

This hurt so much. It was a pain that felt unbearable. I didn't love him, but I didn't want my baby to grow up without a father.

I was doing this for the child's well-being, not for my own desires.

I watched as he roughly tugged at his own hair before I bent down and touched the floor.

He knelt too, and he roughly grabbed my hair to force our gazes to meet.

He looked at me harshly.

"I don't want to see your face. From now on, don't let me fucking push you away."

His words only made me cry more. He let go of my hair with force and stood up.

He wrapped his strong, muscular arms around Sammantha's waist.

"Wait, Laz-"

"Get in, okay?" Lazarus cut off whatever Sammantha was going to say and kissed her forehead.

Sammantha had no choice but to get into the front seat of Lazarus' car.

Lazarus turned and opened the driver's seat. He was about to get in when I stood up and spoke.

"Y-You're so selfish, but thank you. Thank you for giving me this little blessing. I hope you sleep soundly every night, Lazarus."

He entered the car and drove off quickly.

I watched his car move away until I felt the rain start to fall.

I caressed my belly. It's not that big. I'm three weeks pregnant and now I'm trying to convince my baby's father to help me.

But he didn't.

He left me pregnant.

"Y-Your daddy left us, baby..."

Almost six years have passed since all that happened, but until now, everything is still crystal clear in my mind.

"Zon! Baby, what did you do?" I quickly approached Zon. In just a minute that I left, the living room was already in chaos.

Laki had left after his older brother called him to take care of something.

He quickly hid the toy cars he was holding, even though he was caught red-handed.

"Broom, Momma?" he innocently asked.

"No, it's not a broom. It's a car, baby," I corrected him, as all he knew was the sound of a car. So he called it a broom.

He bowed his head, seeming a bit sad because of my slightly stern voice.

"Come here," I extended my hand to him, and he quickly approached.

"Sorry, Momma." He hugged me around the neck and kissed my cheek.

"It's okay, baby. Now, let's get you washed up!" I said happily to him.

After we got ready for our outing, we quickly left. My cousin used my car, so we just took public transportation.

"Momma, where are we going?" my son asked with pure innocent curiosity in his eyes.

"Where do you want to go, baby?" I wanted him to choose where we'd go.

His face suddenly fell, and he lowered his head.

"Da-ddy..."

I stopped in my tracks, still carrying him. There weren't any cars passing by yet; we were just outside the gates of our subdivision.

I bit my lower lip.

I didn't have an answer for him.

I tried to push out of his mind what he wanted, so I decided we'd go to the mall and buy toys. But first, I needed to withdraw some money from my bank account, so we stopped at an ATM near a bank. It was within walking distance, so I carried my child to prevent him from getting tired.

Several years have passed. He might even be married to someone else by now.

We stood in line at the ATM machine, and I held Zon's hand tightly. When it was our turn, I let go of him for a moment to look for my ATM.

It took me a little while to find it, but I did.

When the money came out, I was surprised. I looked to where Zon was a moment ago, but he was gone.

"Zon? Luzon?" I looked around to find him, but I couldn't locate the fair-skinned child in a black hoodie.

"What's taking you so long, miss! Aren't you done? It's my turn!" the woman behind me complained.

I quickly apologized and walked towards the bank's entrance.

I was getting nervous.

White vans are still quite common these days.

I took a deep breath when I saw Zon had already entered the bank. My brow furrowed as I noticed he was following a man who had his back turned, walking towards a private room. I quickly entered, my child still following him. The man was even dressed in formal business attire. My child looked up at him, as if wanting to see the face of the person he was following. The man didn't notice because Zon only reached up to his waist, making it impossible for him to see the child. He had to bend down to catch a glimpse of my child who was trailing him.

I ran towards my child and grabbed Zon by the shoulders to make him stop walking and following the unfamiliar man. He was still looking up, his little neck almost craned, as if he really wanted to see the face of the person he was trailing.

"Zon! Oh God! Baby, don't leave without asking permission..." I knelt in front of my child and because my voice was so loud, it also made the man Zon was following stop in his tracks. I saw his feet move and turn towards us. I pressed my lips together when I saw the other people around us also starting to look at us.

"Momma! I found daddy!" my child said happily, pointing at the man he was following, which was why my cheeks immediately flushed with embarrassment.

"Shh, no, that's embarrassing, baby. He's not your daddy," I scolded my child, still not looking at the man he was following because I was feeling so mortified.

"But Momma! Look!" he lifted a photo he was holding.

It's Lazarus' photograph.

Where did he get that?

I stood up and took a deep breath. I looked up at the man my child had been following, intending to apologize, but I froze when I met his gaze.

His calm but intense eyes bore into me.

I took a step back because of what I saw. I held Zon even tighter.

"No, he's not your daddy, Zon. Let's go, okay? Let's find another daddy for you."

Irithel complained while playing with my son's long hair, 'When are you going to cut Zon's hair? People mistake him for a girl.'

The length of his hair now reaches beyond his shoulders, so I wouldn't be surprised if he's mistaken for a girl, even though he wears boy's clothes.

'You know why I've kept his hair long, Rith,' I glanced at her, and she just rolled her eyes at me.

I'm attempting to tie my hair into a neat bun, but it ends up looking messy. They're behind me, on the bed, my son engrossed in playing with his toy cars and robots.

'You know why I've kept his hair long, Rith,' she copied, exaggerating her expression. 'Psh! Like duh? No matter what you do, your son still looks like a Cavanaugh! The blood of the Cavanaughs runs in his veins, Calista,' her frustration evident on her face. 'You're really trying to hide your child-'

'I'm not, he rejected us,' I cut her off. It's useless because I'm not hiding my son; if I were, I would have gone to a different country.

'How would he know he has a child with you if you didn't tell him? What "rejected" are you talking about? Because you didn't tell him! That's why he pushed you away!' my sharp-witted friend argued. She really won't back down when it comes to this topic.

'What if I did tell him, Irithel? What if he had the child aborted?' I pouted and applied a light lip gloss, checking the mirror to make sure I didn't mess up. I moved the lip gloss away from my lips for a moment to speak. 'And besides, he's been with other girls. We don't know, right? He might have gotten other girls pregnant besides me. He doesn't want his cherished surname to be tainted,' and I continued applying a little lip gloss.

I'm not really into cosmetics, but it's necessary for a woman going out to a bar, so I have to bear with it.

'I don't know about you, but it won't be long before he finds out about Zon. His magnate brother, Laki Cavanaugh, found out about this. What about him?' she insisted, determined to get what she wanted.

'Even if he finds out or already knows, I swear he won't do anything. Why? Because if he really cared, he wouldn't have left me in the first place,' I emphasized, explaining why she looked annoyed. 'Hello? Earth to Irithel! We're not in a movie or a novel; this is reality. Boys run away from the girls they've accidentally impregnated. It's different from movies and novels where the guy chases after the pregnant girl who's hiding.'

My fantasy-driven friend just gave me an annoyed look. She's been my best friend since high school. I really thought she'd be disgusted or distance herself from me because I got pregnant early, but she didn't.

She was actually excited when she heard I was pregnant, but she also got angry when she found out I didn't tell the guy who impregnated me.

Maybe Lazarus knew about this all along? It's impossible that he didn't know. He has a lot of connections, and the reason I suddenly stopped going to school was all over the university, but I continued my studies online.

I'm homeschooled. I only go out for exams. It turns out it's more expensive when I study online, but there are universities that accept online schooling, so continuing my education wasn't a problem.

'Momma, can I come too?'

I turned to see my son. He clumsily stood up from sitting on the huge bed, and Irithel helped him stand properly on the bed. With just one movement, the bed started moving because of the string underneath.

I shot Irithel a dirty look, and she responded with her teasing smile.

I really don't want to talk about Lazarus while Zon is here.

I approached them and picked up my son, who immediately clung to my neck. 'No, baby. You have to sleep; it's late.'

He nodded and pouted. My son got his father's rosy, thin lips, and even his cute pointed nose. I can't deny that my son has a wealthy complexion.

My family isn't that rich, just comfortably well-off. We have a business, but it's not that big. Unlike Lazarus' family, they have their own company. Mom and Dad migrated to Canada because of their work, and I was supposed to follow because they were my only connection to go to another country. But it all fell apart when the embassy found out about my situation here.

My migration didn't push through.

My parents support me by sending money for me and Zon, so here I am, alone with my son in a simple two-story house in a subdivision.

I have a job though. I just graduated this year with a degree in business administration and immediately started looking for work.

'Don't cry, baby. Momma will be home soon,' Irithel's voice was gentle when she saw the sadness on my son's face, as if he might cry any minute or throw a tantrum.

'I'm not crying, Tita...' he tried to slip in the word 'po.'

I taught him that. When he's talking to someone older, he should always use 'po' or 'opo.' He's a fast learner.

Sometimes when he's in a sulk, which he probably inherited from Lazarus, he doesn't pay attention to anyone else around him except me.

'Let's go to sleep, okay? I promise, when you wake up, Momma will be right beside you, hmm?' I persuaded my stubborn son. He really won't stay put.

He's just five years old, turning six in the next seven months.

He's obedient, but often he doesn't listen to me. He's very stubborn and fidgety when I try to give him a bath.

I sighed as he tightened his grip on my neck.

'No, Momma, I want to come!' my son's voice was a bit angry.

He really doesn't want to be left behind.

"Oh, if Lazarus used to almost push you away, this child of his almost doesn't want to be apart from you," Irithel whispered to herself, but it was obvious and I still heard it.

I don't want anyone to mention Luzon's father.

It's almost ten in the evening. I usually put my son to bed by 8 pm.

Irithel is behind this. I don't need to go to bars or anything to enjoy my life, she says. I'm happy and contented with my son; I don't need a man.

In my situation, would any man accept me? My body has returned to normal after almost two years of taking care of my son. I take care of myself too. I go to the gym to fill my free time, and I bring my son with me since the gym is owned by Irithel's older brother. It's fine because I can watch my son while I'm at the gym.

"Momma, please? Let me come with you..." my little boy lowered his voice, as if trying to be endearing to get me to allow him to come along. "Promise, Momma. I won't bother the boys who come here," he still pronounced the letter 'r' with a flourish. He even pressed his cute face against my neck.

I really don't know why he scowls at or even fights with the boys who visit here. They're just my friends or colleagues.

There are only two guys he really vibes with.

Laki and Domino. Domino is Irithel's older brother.

"But baby, you have to go to sleep now," I stroked his back since he really likes it whenever he's in my arms.

"No! I'm not sleepy yet!" He moved his face away from my neck and faced me. He widened his brown eyes in front of me. "See? Momma, I'm not sleepy yet!"

"But babies aren't allowed where I'm going."

"I'm not a baby anymore! I can walk!" he stomped his foot while I held him. It means he wants to get down, so I gently placed him on the cool floor since he's wearing his white socks anyway. He marched back and forth in front of me, laughing heartily, while Irithel watched in amusement. "I can walk, Momma! I'm not a baby anymore! I can... Hmm-" he pretended to think. "I can also protect you from bad guys, Momma! Uncle Laki taught me how!" his little hand reached for my clothes. He wanted to be carried again.

"Whatever Laki teaches your son, Cal, he's insane," Irithel said, barely holding back her laughter.

I carried my proud son. I carried him for almost half an hour, and he kept boasting about the things Uncle Laki and Uncle Domino taught him until sleep finally overtook him.

I gently laid him on the soft bed to avoid waking him up. His long, soft hair spread over the baby blue pillows beneath his little head and on both sides. I placed pillows on either side of him.

I kissed my son's little forehead before getting dressed and leaving the room with Irithel.

"Rith, watch over him, okay? Just call me if he wakes up and looks for me. I probably won't be too long-"

"Even if you take a while, that's perfectly fine with me. I'll take care of your adorable son!" she cheerfully interrupted me.

Maybe what I'm doing isn't right. I have a son, and I'm going to enjoy myself at a bar? Irithel told me to loosen up and just enjoy my life.

I'll do it, just this once.

I left the house and got into my car, which was parked in the one-car parking lot beside the house. The houses here don't have fences, except for a few very large ones. This is a subdivision, after all, so the houses have similar designs.

My car isn't that expensive; it's a middle-class car.

The drive to the expensive bar isn't that long. I didn't know this bar was for wealthy people only. It turns out this was the location and suggested bar Irithel mentioned.

Oh, that woman.

I have no choice. I don't know any other bars around here. I'm not really into this kind of thing, and luckily, it's the last day of the month tomorrow, which means I'll be receiving my salary from work.

after finding a space here in the parking lot on the side of the bar, I immediately got out of the car.

I'm wearing a skintight maroon tube dress, thigh length with a five inches nude pumps.

The DJ's pounding music from inside the bar gives me chills. my heart beats together with the noise.

I was in the middle of walking here in the parking lot going to the entrance of the bar when I saw someone kissing on the side and someone was fighting in front, I also saw a man cornering the woman in an expensive car.

it's dark but I can still manage to feel or see what's happening in my surroundings. There are also a few standing lampposts here so it's not too dark either.

I was even outside the bar when something terrible happened, what else if I was actually inside?

I was about to enter the bar but I was stopped when a bouncer guarding its spacious entrance blocked me. There are neon lights in every corner of the entrance.

"ID miss?"

I frowned because of his request.

Why didn't the other girl who came in here check your IDs? Do I look underage?

I pulled the zipper of my rectangular shaped black shiny wallet and took out my ID. I presented my ID in front of the oversized bouncer.

he took my ID and looked at it.

"Twenty-two years old? Sorry, Miss. I thought you're underage 'coz you look like seventeen," frowned when the bouncer handed me back my ID and stepped back to let me in.

Seventeen huh? I was sixteen years old when Lazarus accidentally got me pregnant. What did I look like when I was sixteen years old? Do I look eleven years old?

I continued walking until the inside of the bar opened up to me.

sweat bodies grinding each of here, actively dancing on the dance floor, flickering lights are all over the place that might make me blind, the smell of the smoke irritates my nose mixed with some strong scent of alcohol and unaffordable perfumes. some group of people just stayed in their place, a round sofa with a glass center table where the bucket of alcoholic beverages was put up.

There are many expensive sofas on the edge of the dance floor. I looked up at the metal rails on the second floor when I saw people there, looking down at it.

I think it's the VIP floor and rooms.

I haven't even had a drink yet, I feel dizzy from what I smell.

I came here alone because I don't really want to drink, I told Irithel that I will also meet someone here so I don't need someone to come with me here. Just going to stay an hour here and go home. Nothing caught my interest here at the bar.

This is dangerous, yeah, I know. I don't get drunk so no one can take advantage of me. I don't have anyone to take me back home, I might get sick.

I don't want my baby to get worried about me. He cried once when one day I got sick, just a fever.

I sat on a stool near the male bartender who was busy mixing drinks. Behind the bartender are lined up different kinds of drinks such as whiskey, vodka, rum and more.

I looked around bored and my eyes widened when I didn't think I would see him here.

He's on the second floor while holding a glass of alcoholic beverage. he was watching from below, everywhere his deadly gaze landed so it was possible that he could see me too.

I nervously faced the bartender who had just poured a drink that he had mixed with any drink.

Without saying a word, I took the glass and sipped, nonstop.

the bartender's eyes widened and the man next to me got angry because the drink was meant for him.

I blinked twice when the alcohol immediately hit me. What kind of wine is that? But it hasn't swallowed my whole sanity yet. It's just that my eyes are getting a little blurry and the alcohol hurts my throat a lot.

It felt cold in my throat at the same time the alcohol was burning my system.

"M-Ma'am, it's uhm-hard liquor. I suggest-"

"I don't need your suggestion."

the bartender kept his mouth shut and just made a new drink for the angry man.

I glanced again at his location on the second floor and instead of being surprised to see him staring at the side where I was sitting, I just stared.

I am not bitter. I just don't really like him and I don't want to see his face like he told me six years ago.

He doesn't want to see my face, so I do. Our feelings are mutual.

We don't have a past or anything. We never had a relationship or anything. we didn't even become friends, I just hate his guts.

I really can't believe that I begged him to give me even a little time to talk to him and I was about to tell him about the baby but he didn't give me time.

after I saved him then that's all he did to me? Is that his way to say thank you?

Gosh. It's depressing.

Looks like I need some wine. It's okay, I'll just call Domino to pick me up here. I can't go with Irithel because she's watching over my son right now. Laki can't either, because Lazarus is here.

"I ordered the hardest liquor you have here," I commanded the bartender, who seemed hesitant about whether to give me what I wanted or not.

What? Do I look seventeen again? Sure, I'm not that tall or a long-legged girl, but the bouncer earlier was clearly overreacting, thinking I looked like a seventeen-year-old.

Tss. Maybe he was just trying to be overprotective.

I crossed my legs and rested my elbow on the counter.

I've consumed almost five glasses of hard liquor in the past half hour. My vision is getting blurry, and the drinks I've had are making my throat incredibly dry.

"O-One more, please."

"B-But Ma'am, you seem quite intoxicated."

"Oh shut it, I want more," I retorted sharply at the bartender to get him to comply. If I begged here, I'm sure he wouldn't serve me.

Annoying. He's really stressing me out. Every time I glance at the second floor where he is, I catch him still staring at me. He's not avoiding eye contact at all.

I thought he didn't want to see my face?

I can also feel a few guys stealing glances at me from the side, whispering. Probably because they think I look underage. Maybe that's how I caught his attention?

What I'm wearing is not childish. Why do I look underage to them?

I don't care.

When I glanced at the second floor, I was surprised not to see him there anymore.

Where is he? Maybe my vision is really getting blurry. I don't want to see his face anyway.

"H-Here Ma'am."

The bartender caught my attention and handed me a glass of alcohol.

I tilted my head and was about to drink it straight when a strong, large hand gripped my wrist and pulled my hands away, almost causing me to spill the alcohol on my own clothes.

"What the-" I turned to my side, quickly covering my mouth when I saw who it was.

I followed his tightly gripping hand to my pulse. He removed the glass of hard liquor from my grasp and gave it back to the bartender.

The bartender accepted it, looking unsettled.

I turned my gaze back to the man who ruined my evening.

His disheveled brown hair had a bit of sweat, he was wearing simple black clothes and pants with a black leather jacket. His eyes, nose, and lips reminded me of my son.

"Let me go!"

"Get down," he ordered in a gruff tone.

I tried to pull my hand back, but he wouldn't release it.

I'm just sitting quietly here, and he wants to pull me off the stool? Who is he again, and why did he decide to approach me or even just look at me? He must be looking for trouble.

It reminded me of what happened last month at the bank.

Luzon was tailing him, and my son also claimed that he is his father. The child even had a picture, and I didn't know who he got it from.

It's either Laki or Irithel.

Maybe that's why he approached me? Who wouldn't be curious, right?

Does he even care at all?

He really hasn't changed even though I haven't seen him in years. I only see him in new magazines, and who would've thought he'd become one of the youngest chief executive officers in the world? In just a month since he claimed his position in their company, they earned billions of dollars. In just a month.

He keeps his background information hidden on social media. No one knows except for his CEO position at the age of twenty-one. Three years have passed, and now he's twenty-four.

I didn't get off my seat. I sat on the stool like my backside was rooted to it.

His face is still grumpy, like someone is always bothering him.

"N-Need something from me?" I ask, avoiding looking at him. I look at the people dancing on the dance floor, then to the bartender, and finally to the people who are comfortably sitting on their seats. "Sir?" Lastly, I looked at Lazarus Cavanaugh's snobbish yet handsome face.

"Yes, Miss Belmonte. We have business to deal with," he stated in a businesslike manner, as if we were in a press conference.

"You're with the wrong person, Mr. Cavanaugh," I formally stated.

Despite the hangover, I hurried through the bustling crowd on the streets. It was early in the morning, but the sun felt scorching on my skin. I was sure that by the time I reached the bank, my uniform would be drenched in sweat.

I work at a bank, specifically as a teller. The bank hired me the day after that coincidental encounter with Lazarus in the same bank. I had been contemplating sending a resignation letter to the manager when I found out that Lazarus' money was one of the supports for the bank.

This is a serious matter, especially after the conversation we had in an expensive bar last night. I'm not sure what exactly I said, since I was already thoroughly intoxicated, but I do remember insisting that he wasn't Zon's father.

I don't even know how I got home. He probably didn't accompany me, right? Because if he did, Irithel might either faint or go ballistic at the thought.

The important thing is that I'm alive and my son is still with me.

I've made up my mind. I won't resign, because I badly need the money for myself and my son. How can I support my child if I don't have a job? I can't always rely on the money my parents send.

Now, Zon is at home since Laki suddenly arrived and offered to look after the child. I have a feeling that Lazarus' brother has something unusual in mind, but I still let him do as he pleases. How could I not? He always threatens me that he'll report me to his brother.

Speaking of Laki and money, he supports his nephew by giving toys, favorite foods, clothes, shoes, and everything. Why only material things? Because I refuse to accept his money.

I want to make it clear to him and his incredibly arrogant brother that I don't need their money. I raised my child properly through my own sacrifices.

Their money is trash.

I passed through the back area of the bank where we enter. It's a backdoor exclusively for the staff.

I'll receive my first paycheck today. I'll spoil my baby, buy him everything he wants, but I'll make sure to limit the spoiling.

I don't want my son to grow up as a spoiled brat like his father. What he wants should be what he gets.

I really can't forget Lazarus, no matter how many times I've tried. How can I forget him when my son looks just like him? That's why I let my son's hair grow long. If I give him a boyish haircut, he'd practically be a photocopy of his shameless father.

How did all this happen?

One night stand? No. I can't call it a one night stand when he did it three times with me.

To be honest, I don't really know him.

I shook my head to clear my mind of all the thoughts and people I'm currently thinking about. It's time for work, I need to focus.

I turned the doorknob of the backdoor in front of me. The door swung open when I pushed it, so I entered.

I was about to get myself ready for work, maybe touch up my makeup or wipe away the sweat, but I hadn't even opened my handbag when my coworker appeared in front of me.

"Calista Belmonte, right?"

I'm not exactly friendly, even though I've been working here for a month, I still haven't made any friends.

"Yes. Why?" I responded formally to my coworker, a woman. I'm not sure how she views her workplace or why she's dressed like that. Her pencil skirt is incredibly short, and her tight-fitting top leaves little to the imagination, paired with a blazer that's equally short.

Meanwhile, me? Just the average formal attire. Not too short, not too loose.

She turned away from me before answering my question. "The manager is requesting your presence at his office."

How did she know? Maybe she overheard it. She probably just came from the manager's office.

I didn't bother fixing myself up and quickly left to enter the manager's office. I've spoken to the manager before, and he's strict, not bossy or mean, just strict.

Making my way through the corridor, I could see the white-tiled floor, plain white walls, and ceiling. The manager's office was at the far end. There's a room with lockers for our personal belongings, and that's where I would have gone if the manager hadn't called me.

Nervously, I knocked on the door before hearing the manager's cold, baritone voice.

"Come in."

I felt like the manager was about to deliver some bad news. Or maybe he was going to give me my salary early?

I opened the door and entered the manager's office with courtesy. I didn't bother scanning the entire room because nothing had changed since I started working here a month ago.

A wooden bookshelf in one corner, drawers for important files and papers, a long grey sofa for visitors to wait, and finally, the manager's desk with two chairs in front.

There was a nameplate on his desk.

Erosion Santos

"Have a seat, Ms. Belmonte," he offered formally.

He's too formal and professional. Sometimes, I'm not sure how to interact with him. He's intimidating if I keep thinking like that, but if I remind myself that he's just a person, human like me, he's not intimidating at all.

I took a seat in front of his desk. It felt like the first time he interviewed me, a feeling that returned now.

I was just staring at his face and at his hands, which were busy signing or flipping through pages. There was also a newspaper on the side of his desk, and a cup of coffee that would never be absent.

He's not that old. I think he's below the age of thirty-five. Good-looking with those reading glasses and a perfect formal office attire, not too fair but attractive. Every girl who sees him would feel the sex appeal behind those coats he's wearing, which is why many are drawn to him. From what I've heard around here, he's still single.

He opened the drawer beneath his desk and took out two white envelopes.

The first one was the size of paper money, and the other looked like a letter.

He placed the envelope that seemed to contain money on his desk and slid it using his index and middle finger, stopping it at the edge of the desk, right in front of me.

"What's this, Sir?" I didn't immediately accept the envelope placed in front of me.

I furrowed my brows while looking at him, waiting for his response.

"Your salary, Ms. Belmonte."

I was completely baffled, my expression showing it. "Pardon, Sir? Correct me if I'm wrong, but today's not the last day of the month-"

"Take it, Ms. Belmonte, because you're fired."

I was dumbfounded by what he said, even more so by the abruptness of it. Am I deaf or am I just in disbelief?

"F-Fired? How?" I swallowed to get rid of my stutter. Mr. Santos had a serious expression, still looking at me. "I mean, where did I go wrong? I do my job on time and I usually work overtime. So, what's wrong?"

He didn't speak and simply placed the second white envelope. It's a letter, I suppose.

He gestured for me to open it and leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest.

I didn't waste any time and opened the white envelope, reading the neatly printed and perfectly folded contents.

The first thing I saw was the company name printed on the envelope.

Cavanaugh Finance Corp.

Should I continue reading or not? Maybe Mr. Santos made a mistake in giving me this letter. But no, because my name is written here.

It's not surprising that this letter is really meant for me.

To fill my curiosity, I read the letter.

Work in my company.

That's it.

Damn. That's it? Seriously. What kind of letter is this? And what does he think of himself? Who is this? There's no name mentioned. Which office or company am I supposed to go to?

"Well? Ms. Belmonte, is there something between you and this billionaire named Mr. Lazarus Cavanaugh?"

I rolled my eyes before looking at Mr. Santos.

"Is that man related to this, that you're firing me?" I couldn't hold back the irritation. I was losing respect for this manager.

He straightened in his seat, resting his elbows on the table while holding his hands beneath his chin. "You know what, Ms. Belmonte? I'm just doing my job and being practical about all the things around me. I can't keep you in this place if this billionaire said so. He'll fire me if I didn't fire you."

"This is unbelievable!" I slammed the letter on his desk, causing a sharp noise. "I'll-I'll-" I pointed at Mr. Santos with my trembling index finger. "I'll kill that bastard!"

I was about to turn away from Mr. Santos when I remembered something. I faced him again and took the envelope containing my salary.

My heart was filled with anger and frustration as I stormed out of the manager's office. I grabbed my personal belongings from the staff locker and left.

My co-workers stared at me while I packed my things. No one dared to block my way.

Fuming with anger, I hailed a taxi. I didn't use my car because I could walk the distance from the subdivision to my workplace in the bank, and besides, it would save gas.

I wanted to take a jeepney to save money, but it would be faster if I took a taxi. I couldn't wait to confront that man.

When I stood in front of the massive building of Cavanaugh Finance Corp., I kept walking without stopping, even when the guard chased after me.

"Ma'am! Ma'am! You can't enter without an appointment slip-"

I stopped walking and slammed the envelope against the guard's chest. "That's not an appointment slip, but it should be enough for you to let me in." I didn't wait for the guard's response. I continued walking towards a reception desk, I think. There was a woman receptionist facing a computer, dressed formally.

"Good morning, Ma'am. How may I help you?" she greeted cheerfully, with a sweet dimpled smile.

"What floor is Mr. Lazarus Cavanaugh's office?" I sarcastically smiled. I wasn't the only one with dimples.

The thin-lipped receptionist's smile vanished when she heard what I said. She seemed to pale. "M-Mr. Lazarus Cavanaugh, Ma'am? Are you sure-"

"Do I look unsure to you?"

"No, Ma'am," her expression turned serious when she saw that I was serious. "The CEO's office is located on the fifteenth floor."

I didn't linger and took large strides towards the elevator.

There were three elevators, but I chose the one that no one was using. It struck me as odd that they were still crowding into the other two.

I pressed the fifteenth floor button and the door closed.

I furrowed my brows when I saw a woman yelling and running towards the elevator I was in.

"Wait, Ma'am! Please step out! That elevator is exclusively for the Cavanaugh family only-"

She was too late. The elevator had already closed.

I just scratched my head.

Where would this elevator take me and why does it seem reserved for important people?

I took a deep breath when it stopped and the doors slowly opened.

My eyes widened, and I hesitated if I should step out or just go back down when I saw where it had taken me.

Didn't I need to go to his secretary's desk outside his office to gain access?

"Come in, Ms. Belmonte."

I shot a fierce look at the direction of that baritone voice.

The elevator had taken me directly to his office. So that's why the elevator I used was exclusively for the Cavanaugh family.

His office was surrounded by tinted glass walls, except for the side near the elevator.

My gaze landed on the man sitting neatly in a large swivel chair. His desk was immaculate. Everything I could see in this room was black, white, and expensive shades of green plants at the side.

No expression on his face. He gestured for me to sit in a comfortable dark gray chair in front of his glass desk.

I left my cheap handbag near the elevator when I exited, and it automatically closed.

I'm intimidated by the way he looked at me. The way his eyes follow my every move.

Didn't he want to see my face earlier? Now he's here, disrupting my life. I never bothered him since he turned me away.

I didn't sit when I arrived right in front of his desk. I won't leave any traces of me in this office.

"What's your problem?" I spoke calmly but with suppressed anger.

Mr. Santos' sex appeal fades when I looked at Lazarus. Behind those costly three-piece suits, his muscular body seems to scream.

I'm not checking him out. It's just sudden, and my eyes accidentally caught sight of it.

I regained composure when I heard his clearing of throat.

"I want you to work in my company," he said it with no emotion. He really has no heart.

"For what? I'm contented with my work in the bank," I answered casually.

I don't see him as the successful Chief Executive Officer in this company. I see him as the asshole who left me pregnant six years ago.

"Okay. Let's see if there's someone who'll accept you for work," he stood up and loosened his black tie while his scrutinizing gaze remained on me. "Who's that boy last month?"

I felt like my tongue got cut when he asked.

I really thought he had forgotten about what happened last month.

I think he's getting suspicious, but he chose to ask instead of assuming.

"H-He's-" I cursed in my mind and cleared my throat to stop myself from stuttering.

His eyes infinitesimally looked at me. His eyes narrowed as if observing me closely. "Tell me, Ms. Belmonte," his impatient voice made me nervous.

Annoying. Why was I so brave coming in here earlier? Now, it's like my courage ran away.

"He's my son."

He nodded slowly. For a moment, I thought he wouldn't ask further, but I was wrong.

"Who's the father?"

"None of your business, Mr. Cavanaugh."

Maybe I really need to keep my son away from his father. Lazarus has the connection, money, and all. With just a word from him, he could take my son.

Just like my job right now.

My heartbeats are almost numb, pulsing wildly.

Lazarus opened a drawer under his desk and took out a black folder. He didn't take his eyes off me while he did so, until he placed the folder on his expensive desk.

"Read it."

It's probably not just because of the cold air conditioning, but my palms are freezing now.

I approached his desk and boldly took the black folder.

I looked at Lazarus' cold expression before opening the folder.

It's a DNA test result.

I stared at the paper inside the folder for what felt like several seconds. I'm running out of breath, running out of strength, and I almost dropped the folder.

Luzon Belmonte

Combined Paternity Index: 533,475

Lazarus Cavanaugh

Probability of Paternity: 99.9998%

I see a lot of numbers, but these are the only two I read. The interpretation.

"It's a DNA Paternity Test," the authority in his voice made me want to jump out of this building. "What can you say? I'm the father of your child," he stated.

How did this happen when I didn't even get Zon DNA tested, let alone him?

Maybe he just fabricated this?

Despite my fear and nervousness, I held up the DNA test result. "This?" I slapped the paper onto his desk before pointing at the DNA test result. "Is fake," then I ripped it into two, crumpled it and threw it onto his chest.

He didn't move and stayed in his spot, even when the crumpled papers fell onto the shiny floor. His eyes bore into me, and I saw no anger.

Just the usual expression on his face. Intimidating with his fierce eyes. I haven't seen his eyes light up since the day my eyes landed on him.

"If you're the father of my son? I'd rather raise him without a father. Yes, every man deserves to be a father, but my son doesn't deserve you," I made sure to articulate every word that came out of my mouth.

I want him to feel what I felt before. The feeling of being rejected and unheard.

I turned and walked back to the elevator, grabbing my handbag from the floor.

I was about to enter the elevator but stopped midway when I heard him stoically say;

"I'll wait for the day that you'll come to me and beg, Calista. Remember that."