A Wife for the Billionaire
Chapter 106: RICHARD

Chapter 106: RICHARD

As a billionaire, even though some might say I’m new to power and that entitlement, I don’t agree.

I have been the heir of this empire ever since I was conceived. And so, I have been a billionaire for practically every second of my life.

But as a businessman and a CEO, I am used to risks. I didn’t achieve all that I’ve been able to accomplish these two years by not taking risks.

In fact, risk taking is the only thing that has brought me this far. And it is the difference between people like me and those like Sofia.

The distinct line between the poor and the rich, is the yellow line of risks. People like me aren’t afraid to risk it all, we don’t fear the possibility of losing, and while that is a certainty, we brace ourselves for the outcome. Rather than cowering into not taking the risk at all.

That’s the difference between all of my forebears before Charles. They were afraid to risk it all. They allowed themselves and their dreams to be stalemated by the fear of losing it all.

But Charles had dared to risk the farm to secure the loan that was used to start up the mill. He didn’t stop there, he risked working with other risk takers, the Lords and together they began this empire.

Anyone who desires to be successful, more than the average man, must be willing to take risks. In fact, risk taking should be one of his MO.

But as much as risks can be worth it in the end. They are risks that should never be taken. Every risk should be assessed carefully before taking. Just like this partnership with the Dame Dynasty, that is a well assessed and calculated risk, and definitely worth it.

And I pride myself as someone who never takes risks that end up not being worth it. But it now seems, this present risk I took, telling Sofia about my life had been a loss. A failure.

Perhaps I didn’t access the factors carefully before I took the risk. The mere fact that the girl was a bitch, should have been more than enough for me to never consider taking the risk. But I thought she had sense, that she was a risk taker as well.

Clearly, she’s not. She has already accepted whatever fate lies in store for her. I may have been left without a choice on the selection process and practically all of life, especially on the matter of my lifespan.

But I took control. I didn’t succumb to these factors, I rose above them to take charge. Instead of letting them control me or my life, I became the one behind the wheels. And that is the difference between me and Sofia, I take charge of my fate, no matter how predestined, whereas she just succumbs to hers.

Her silence may hint at what a loss my risk had been. But I will only know for certain when she stands and walks through that door. And she hasn’t... yet.

But maybe, I shouldn’t have been too quick to assume that she won’t leave. I had allowed my hopes to soar, only to fall flat as the girl in question stood.

Against better judgment, I looked at her, hoping to glimpse a sign of hesitation, but it seemed her mind was set. Her eyes betrayed nothing so I returned my gaze to the screen.

She snatched her purse as if she wanted to shred the poor thing. It wasn’t a designer, more like something she savaged at a local accessory store.

Why was she even angry? Did she expect me to beg her? Maybe that was her plan, to stand in hope of frightening me of her departure, so I would beg her to stay.

By God, she must be so naive, if she thinks that I will let my need for her reveal my hand. Or give her the satisfaction of thinking so.

That’s another thing about people like me, we seldom let people like her know that we need them. And that’s how we remain in power. Unlike her, I would never have allowed my emotions to show like that, but that’s the thing. She isn’t and might never be like me.

She further proved my point as she

practically raced for the door, her anger evident in her strides. And yet I didn’t call her back. I gave her no sign of thinking that I cared. Whereas I did, I cared. She was my ticket of control over the selection process and I was risking that by allowing her leave.

And to think I had accused Aaron of not caring when he was acting exactly as I am now. We care, but we can’t let it show, most especially to people like Sofia. And I guess that’s why I had been angry at Aaron, he didn’t draw the line as I did. Even to us, his friends and equals, he never allows us to see that he cared.

I saw Vera try to say something to the pissed lady, and surprisingly kept mute. Which was totally unlike Vera, the bitch was fearless, but I guess Sofia was more fearsome. Which was another reason why I should employ the girl, she was every bit the PA I needed, and would make a terrific judge for the selection, and yet I was letting her leave.

Maybe for people like me, it’s all about pride. Not really about risks, we let ourselves believe that since we are elevated above these people, that we don’t need them and even if we do need them, they can’t know of it. And I think that’s a prideful risk.

The real risk was telling her first about the selection, but letting her leave because I thought that would be enough to make her stay or open up, that’s pride.

I slammed my laptop shut, dreading having to ask Vera to call Sofia back. Sofia was proud as well, I guess that’s the clash, were it others, I mean less prideful personalities as I have met in the past, they would never leave. In fact, they would spill their guts the moment I allow them a glimpse of my personal life, but not goddamn Sofia Blake. Had she been born into wealth, the girl would have been an apex predator, through and through.

I was about to call Vera, so that she would call Sofia back, when I saw to my utmost despair, she didn’t leave. She stood by the door staring at me. I didn’t even have to assume, I know she saw. She had seen my regret, and my anger. She had seen it all.

So little I could do to salvage the situation, but I had to. I couldn’t let her think she had won, so I shrugged, opening my laptop again. But it was too late.

With an irritating smile of victory, Sofia waltzed back into my office.

"What are you doing here? Didn’t you leave?" I spat, unable to keep it cool.

I didn’t see the need to keep up the pretense, she had seen me and there was no need hiding my emotions. Now, what remained was what she was going to do with that knowledge.

She didn’t answer my questions, perhaps she knew it was irrelevant. Completely ignoring me, she 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," I cut in, surprised because I never thought she would just jump into her story without taunting me for my moment of weakness, "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"

She paused and not knowing what to do after such exposé, I said,

"That’s deep"

She gazed at me, as if accessing whether I had meant that, or was just messing with her. And then without provocation, she continued,

"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."

She paused again, this time to take a breath and sniff back the tears that glossed her eyes.

I knew better than to say anything this time. She was clearly going through something and I didn’t want to ruin her moment, so I kept quiet. Giving her time, I waited for her to regain her composure,

"Today," she 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?" I supplied, too empathic of her situation to reason.

"No," she said immediately, then struggled, "I... um,", making me wonder if perhaps she had taken offense at my interruption and assumption. Until she resumed speaking,

"I like Cole," she confessed, hesitating, "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?" I asked, even though I could tell from the tone she exerted in her last sentence that she was pissed. I was kinda too piqued to care.

Dismissively, she said,

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