A Wife for the Billionaire
Chapter 105: SOFIA

Chapter 105: SOFIA

Playing it safe has always been one of my mantras. Especially in navigating the cruel uneven trails of my life.

It is the only reason why I’ve made it this far... yet. It’s almost like a voice telling me to consider the pros and cons of a situation before making a decision. It’s kinda like the list I always make before deciding on something.

And now more than ever, it tugged at me even as I almost succumbed to the burning thirst to know. It’s a diver ready to pull me from the depths of the bottomless chasm of my inquisitiveness.

It had me questioning again if this so-called ’main reason’ was worth telling this stranger about the recent caprices of my life. And it also had me second guessing the story he shared with me, if it held such high stakes then why was he offering me the choice of leaving with that knowledge?

Could he have lied? Or perhaps, he spoke the truth, but wasn’t bothered by the implications of me being in the know of such news.

Knowing him, he must be the kind that shrugs off something as high stakes as marriage. Because it will only be a front, a filter to his perfect image. The wife won’t matter, because to him, it will be just another business transaction, another contract.

There was only one way to know whether all this was worth shit, I had to test him. I had to push him and see if he would react.

With that resolve, I looked at him again. His face remained unreadable and he still appeared to be immersed by whatever was on his screen. As far as he was concerned, I was no longer there. And that vexed me, most.

How he could reveal such detail about his life and seconds later, pretend as if it meant nothing. Had his stuttering been rehearsed, his hesitation to tell me, had it all been staged?

If it were, he deserved "Best Performance Award", but I would know soon enough.

My plan was simple: stand up and pretend to be leaving. If he calls me back or reacts in any way that indicates he’s being truthful, before I reach the door, then I will come back and tell him what he wants to hear. But if he maintains this I-don’t-care attitude, then my curiosity be damned, I will leave without looking back even once.

I stood up and felt his eyes lift beyond the screen to my face. It was a sign and my hopes soared, until his eyes returned back to the screen.

That was part of the plan, but it had hurt. But the thing with hurt is that it is usually accompanied by other emotions, like anger. And rage was all I needed to keep going.

I snatched my purse and walked to the door. And yes, I know I shouldn’t have allowed my emotions show like that, but I was tired and angry as fuck.

Allowing him see through my emotions was handing him power. Granting him a dose of control.

But I didn’t really give a fuck and I kinda didn’t care if he reacted or called me back. The original plan had been to walk slowly until he called me back, but with how pissed I was, I bolted to the door.

I wasn’t surprised when he didn’t make

a sound as my hand closed on the door handle to pull it open.

As the door shut behind me, I felt something snap within me. I had been angry, but for him to allow me to, I practically saw red.

Vera opened her mouth to say something, but when she saw my face, she kept quiet.

I should leave. I wanted to. I didn’t want to look back, but I did.

He had shut his laptop and his expression beared regret. And anger.

Then he saw me looking, our eyes locked on each other. And I saw him flush, I had caught him in a moment of truth. He had allowed his emotions to show, because he thought I was gone.

He tried to shrug it off. To pretend that

it didn’t happen. That it was all a lie, an act, but I knew. And it was too late for him to pretend.

With a smile of victory, I waltzed back into his office.

"What are you doing here? Didn’t you leave?" He threw.

I knew those questions were part of an effort to pretend that moment of vulnerability didn’t happen. He was trying to get the upper hand, to regain control, but I had seen him.

He had been exposed and I wasn’t going to spite him for it or taunt him like he would have done me, I was going to keep my part of the bargain. I was going to tell him my own story.

Ignoring him, I took back my former seat, drew a deep breath, exhaled and began,

"I don’t think my situation of choicelessness is only present. I think it started from the moment a woman decided to make a wrong choice and that decision formed me. Against better judgment, she still kept me and nine months later, shoved me into a world I never would have wanted to brace, if I had been given the choice."

"But really," he cut in, "none of us get that choice"

"True, but there’s a distinction even as much as there’s a point in all of our lives that we wish we were never born. They are people who should be here even if they think otherwise, like you being the only heir and all, and there are those like me, who should never have seen this world. Not seeing this world would have been a mercy in fact, rather than being birthed as a bonus, a number counted amongst the population, but shouldn’t

have been here in the first place"

I paused to see what effect my words left. Only to hear him say,

"That’s deep"

His tone was neutral, so I couldn’t tell if he was mocking me or if he actually meant that.

But he was right, that was deep. I didn’t really plan that, it was that kind of speech that just came out. Like spontaneous spew and rush of words which naturally weren’t planned.

But I couldn’t stop now,I had to say it all, so I went on,

"As I was saying, living the life of a bastard compared to not being born in the first place, of the two I would gladly have forfeited my life if I was allowed the choice. But I wasn’t, so I lived my life as a mistake, my stepmom and her daughters never letting a day go by without reminding me of it. Of the fact that I never belonged. It was hard, but eventually, I accepted such cruelty and sought for a way to liberation. That was why I had been excited about the interview, except that now, none of it matters."

I drew in a deep breath, an effort to stall the tears that I could feel brimming in my eyes. It was overwhelming talking about it, even though I omitted lots of facts, yet strangely it was relieving, like I was lifting burdens off my shoulders.

Richard was quiet. At least he knew better than to interrupt or make a joke. He sat watching me with one of his unreadable expressions. Though I could swear his eyes once glinted with... an emotion. I really didn’t know what to qualify it as, kindness, pity or understanding.

Or perhaps nothing, since it vanished almost immediately. Making me wonder if it had been real or a figment of my imagination.

"Today," I continued, "my stepmom sealed my fate. She made me realize that I never had a choice, at least not in deciding what happens in my life. Weirdly, it had started as a joke, before it resulted in the choiceless and inescapable decision of marrying my ex. And before you ask, I literally don’t have a choice on the matter, because I had once broken the heart of my ex in question. I left him because I thought my stepmom would never agree to such a union and now, he is elated about the news. And I should be too, except that things aren’t as they used to and um..."

"You love another now, Trail right?" He supplied, but he was wrong.

"No, I... um," I struggled to find my words. Was telling him how I felt about Cole even matter? And honestly how did I feel about Cole? Surely it wasn’t love, no, of course not.

"I like Cole," I went on, after deciding that it really didn’t matter whether he knew or not, "but I don’t really know how much. I mean I barely met the guy some days ago and besides that’s not what I was going to say"

"So, what was it that you were going to say?" He asked, not bothering to apologize for jumping into conclusion as if he knew me. That pissed me off,

"None of it matters anyway, so that is my situation. Now, tell me about this main reason of yours"