A Wife for the Billionaire
Chapter 103: SOFIA

Chapter 103: SOFIA

"Well?" I said, when he seemed to be biding his time, while my patience stretched thin.

"Ever impatient, I see" He mused, steepling his hands.

It really wasn’t just about impatience, I just wanted to know where I stood. Whether there was hope, or if I should succumb and immerse myself to the depths of my fate. Because anything otherwise, was as stupid as fighting death. It was simply pointless.

He shifted in his chair again and opened his mouth to say something, only to shut it just as quickly.

Whatever he wanted to say must be either important that he doesn’t know how to say it, or stupid that he feels it’s beneath him to say.

I reclined to my seat, not wanting to push him too hard, lest he snaps. We just worked to establish a common ground and I didn’t want to be the one to ruin things, so I sat in silence. Willing myself to be patient, even when I wanted to put my arms on shoulders and shake those words out of him.

I really didn’t have to wait long, he spoke almost as soon as I made myself comfortable,

"Now that you’ve made yourself feel at home, there has to be some sort of exchange if what I’m to propose will work"

"An exchange?" I cut in, as he paused to catch his breath.

Even though he wanted to hide his displeasure at being interrupted, it still showed in his voice as he continued,

"Right, an exchange. It’s simple really, all you have to do is tell me what it was that happened in your life to leave you choiceless and I will tell you mine"

He sat back, as if what he just said wasn’t weird and downright ridiculous.

"Wait, you are serious" I said, when it became obvious that he meant those words.

"Yeah of course, I’m serious, did you think I was joking?"

"But you can’t be serious, why would you expect me to tell you anything about my life when I barely know you." I said, sitting up.

"And that’s the thing with people like you, I gave you my word that I will do the same, so why make it personal as if I won’t reciprocate?" he exasperated.

But I didn’t care whether he was frustrated by my doubts or whatever, what he was proposing was simply outrageous.

"One, I don’t trust you." I counted with my fingers as emphasis, "Two, people like you, your words rarely mean shit. Three, if you really wanted me to believe that you will keep your word then why not start first. And four, even if I agree to share my own side of the story, how am I supposed to know that what will come afterwards will be worth the share of such intimate details"

"You really don’t trust people, do you?" He said, smiling.

I figured the question was rhetorical, so I didn’t bother answering.

"Fine," he said, raising his hands in mock surrender, "I will start. So, um..."

"Actually," I interjected, "there’s a fifth. How do I know you will tell the truth without formulating a wackass fiction from the Billionaire Classics?"

The only indication that he didn’t take it kindly with my interruption was the movement in his cheeks, as if he gritted his teeth. Before he said,

"Like I said earlier, I’m a man of my word, besides fiction has never been one of my talents. Some people say I’m a bad liar in fact, though I’m working on that"

I didn’t want to believe him, perhaps because he has been kinda shady with his emotions today or because he didn’t sound serious with his attempt at conviction. But a part of me could tell in spite of the joke, he was speaking the truth.

"Fine, you can continue" I said, when it seemed he was waiting for my approval.

"I... um, this is going to sound crazy and um, probably something spinned from what did you call it, Billionaire erm..."

"Classics" I supplied, enjoying this. Richard Wellington at loss of words, this must indeed be a ’classic’

"Yeah, whatever, but um... Fuck, this is hard and to think I’m the one who suggested it. Anyways, my parents has me roped into a selection process that involves 15 ladies of which I must pick a wife from"

"No shit, for real?" I asked, bemused.

"Kinda regretting why I told you that, but it’s true and it’s highly confidential, only I, my parents, my best friends, Vera - over there, the girls involved and now, you, are aware of it and I would like for it to remain that way. Can’t deal with the press at the same time."

I wanted to tell him that with that number of people in the know, it wasn’t really confidential. But what bothered me more, was why the hell was he telling me this?

"Why did you include me in the know, you don’t even know me that well. What makes you think, I won’t spill the second I leave this place?" I asked him.

Confidently, he said,

"Because I’m not big on trusting myself and we that rarely trust others, hardly break the trust confided in us. Secondly, I’m prepared for that contingency, with some sort of foolproof if I can call it that. But for the main reason, I will tell you after you tell me your own story"

I inclined my head, staring at him like I didn’t quite believe him. He sounded believable quite alright, but this was Richard-fucking-Wellington. The billionaire playboy. The man who doesn’t give a damn about others. The man who had almost fired his employee because he was kind enough to show me around. The man who had given me an ultimatum to save a man’s job, for the crime of being kind. The man who with just a few encounters, I can say he’s the devil himself.

Now, he sits across from me, offering me what I didn’t know how to qualify. Has he changed, or was this a ploy, because I’m genuinely confused. There must be a catch, and the worst part of it all was that I didn’t have a fucking clue as to what it was.

"Why don’t you tell me the main reason now? Why wait after my own share, or is that just a contingency to make sure that I meet my own part of the deal?" I inquired of him.

Whatever regret he had after telling me

his own story, if he was to be believed, was no more. His face, back to that iron unreadable mask, he said,

"A contingency? I never saw it as that, but why does it matter, whether you share or not? It’s entirely up to you, but I know for certain that you will appreciate the main reason when I tell you of it"

That offered me no help in my confusion, if anything it befuddled me the more. What was this main reason and what did he mean by ’I will appreciate it’? More conspicuous, what did my own story have to do with anything?

Did he already know of my fate? Was he planning to save me or is there something that he knows that I don’t?

"What if I deem this ’main reason’

unworthy and decide to leave? What

then?" I tried, an effort to calm my troubled mind.

His disappointment flashed for only a second, before the mask beshrouded it, and he said, pointing to the door,

"As you can see, the door is unlocked. So, you can leave, if you don’t wish to hear the rest of what I have to say. But if you do want to stay, I’m afraid, you will have to share. It’s that simple."

He opened his clasped laptop and focused his attention on the screen. That was it, he just dismissed me. How typical of him. Should have known that no matter how humane he had seemed, he was still the same man I met yesterday and the day before. He was still Richard-pissing-Wellington and that will never change.

But in spite of how rude, his dismissal seemed. I realized that he was offering

me a choice, the opportunity to choose, the right to decide. What Alicia, my mom, my dad, and life has never bothered to offer me.

Stay or leave.

That was what it came down to. And of the two, I didn’t know which to choose. The rational decision would be to leave, in fact, that’s what my guts was screaming. But...

I have always been a little more inquisitive than most. Perhaps it was because life left me with hardly any answers when I needed it the most. At the nipper age of 8.

Curious to know why things were as they were, I think I became inclined to know things. That chasm of unanswered questions, I tried to fill with my desire to know. That hearth where fire once burned until it was snuffed out, now burns with a ferocious intensity.

And in this case, I burned to know and that held more sway than anything else.