A Wife for the Billionaire
Chapter 112: RICHARD

Chapter 112: RICHARD

It’s been seconds and Sofia still stood like a statue. Not a single part of her body, twitched. It was weirdly abnormal, like she was frozen in time.

I saw tears drip to the tiles before her and not once did her body shake or spasm in a sob.

I had wanted to stop her from leaving. My words were meant to get her to see reason, but this...

This was not what I expected. And worse, in this state of hers, discerning her next line of action was almost an impossibility. And even when attempted, the choice of leaving held more weight.

I had struck a cord. I had hurt her and it’s only fair that she would leave. I had said the truth, but maybe it’s too much.

That’s what most people don’t seem to take into consideration, the truth hurts naturally, but there are truths that cut. Words of verity that can stop the heart. Genuine statements that paralyses, and I guess that’s the kind I shared with Sofia.

Truths like that, are those that most leave unsaid. Because when spoken, they wreak havoc. They destroy and shatter. Just like Claire’s infidelity, she had been right not to tell Edward until he found out. Even now, I sometimes wish I never found out myself. Maybe I won’t hate her as much. Maybe there won’t be anything to forgive.

Such truths are simply too much. And after my experience with Claire’s issue, I’m not a fan of them. Except that I had in a moment of rage, uttered them.

But to be fair, at the moment I didn’t

know they held such power, that they could cut so deep, until she... froze.

Honestly, those words were like frost creeping her to stillness. Acupuncture pins holding her in place. I shouldn’t pity her, but I wasn’t a stranger to the brutality of such truth when unleashed.

I meant to say something, perhaps anything that would break the spell, when she turned so suddenly that I was startled. Her eyes burned fiercely, a fiery of hurt, hate and rage, oozing streaks that could no lesser be, molten lava.

Her face, so crimson that it could have been a cherry. And her words, they were poison.

"Screw you, Richard. Screw you"

Unlike the first time she said those words, this time it bore more hurt than anger. She had said that in an attempt to mask the fact that my words held such power over her, but her tone betrayed her. I knew better than to gloat, so I remained silent only raising my hands to indicate that I accepted and claimed her words.

I was right. She should have left already. By now, she was supposed to be in the lobby already, but she still stood, her cheeks streaked by tears. I knew she wanted to know what I had to say. But I couldn’t start. In spite of her pitiful situation, I couldn’t let her think I was in no way remorseful.

If she needed what I intended to say, she would have to show more enthusiasm than standing in silence.

I think she knew that. At least even in her worst, her brain still functioned. I watched her wipe her tears, raised her head high, and with a level glare, she said,

"You have my attention, so tell me what you think I will regret a few years from now"

This girl was something else. She had pride, more than someone of her status. And for someone like her to display such height of pride even when flat faced in the slum of defeat. It was admirable. Not many could muster themselves to stand upright not to talk of meeting my gaze, especially after hearing such truth and worse, it was uttered by an enemy.

"Why don’t you take a seat while I explain" I said after what was a justified pause. Too long and it might seem like I was taking advantage of her moment of weakness.

"No thanks, I’d rather stand," she said. Her voice shook, but her words rang loud enough.

It was all bravado. She may stand as upright as she could, but it was clear from her sagged shoulders that she was weary. But the prideful wench would rather fall with exhaustion than take up my offer at hospitality.

Sighing at her indignation, I began,

"I will be honest with you, because if this is going to work. Which I’m hoping it will, we have to trust each other in spite of the fact that we clearly can’t stand each other. The PA job is only a cover, a front for what I really want from you."

I paused, reading her expression. One of the things I’ve denounced from her, was her curiosity. She was always eager to know and like a fish about to be netted, I just left her the bait.

Except she didn’t take it. Her expression clued nothing, rather she looked bored, at best.

I shrugged, hiding my disappointment before I continued,

"Erm," stretching my arms on the desk, "I want you to be a judge in this selection process, like another set of eyes to point out things I might not see. A different opinion in accessing these characters. Of course, you will also meet the job criteria for a personal assistant so people won’t suspect anything, but I promise I will make it worth your while. So, what do you say?"

She didn’t believe me. It was evident on the incredulous look on her face. Then her gaze on me shifted to sharp focus. She was not just looking at me, this was more. Even her eyes seemed to take an unnatural glint as they scrutinized me from head to the point where the desk obscured from view.

It took nearly all of my strength not to

cower under her stare. Until I remembered, she could read people.

"Wait," I called, pulling my lapels, "are you reading me?"

She didn’t deny it.

"Would you blame me?" She spat.

I veered my chair askew, away from her scrutiny, and said,

"That’s understandable, a deliberate invasion of privacy, but nonetheless, understandable"

"Oh come off it, what did you expect, you offer me this too good of an offer and you expect me to just believe it’s... simply perfect"

"No, I don’t actually" I quickly offered, "but I thought you said that you didn’t read people against their will, and even if you felt that you had to, a little heads up would have been appreciated rather than undressing me emotionally with your eyes"

"Don’t worry, you are excellent at conceding your emotions, and somehow you’ve also adapted that in the manner of how you wear your clothes. Suffice to say, it was hard reading you and harder still trying to figure out what the little I was able to discern meant. But I’m not going to apologize for making use of an advantage at my disposal. Heaven knows, the lot of you do it all the time with your privileges, and were you in my shoes, I have no doubt you would have done exactly the same"

I stood, coming to sit at the edge of the desk. Even though I didn’t entirely believe she was telling the truth about me being hard to read, I couldn’t let her think I was afraid.

"Excellent, you say, and yet you were able to discern little, if you are to be believed of course. I don’t know, but that doesn’t sound ’excellent’ to me, I will have to work harder on my clothes and mannerism shields, so that you can’t read anything at all" I said, crossing my legs.

"You are doing a good job already," she commented after staring at my legs for whatever reason. "I don’t doubt that with a few more practice, you will practically be unreadable"

Folding my arms, I said,

"Don’t patronize me"

"Quite the contrary, with others I hardly have to strain to see what their clothes and the way they wear them reflect their emotions. But in your case, I have to try harder, look beyond the layers to see what I want to, and even that is subject to sudden change thereby confusing me and forcing me to try harder. It’s exhausting and quite frankly, time consuming"

I could tell she wasn’t lying. And suddenly I was glad for the shields I’ve put up all these years.

"It’s good that I’m that good, because I will be needing those defenses if you are going to be working for me, marking me as your object of constant scrutiny and a challenge for your ability. But that’s actually one of the reasons why I deemed you worthy of this position. With your reading, you can see what these ladies hide underneath their makeup and layers of attires. Which reminds me, you are yet to provide an answer to that effect?"

"Let’s get this clear, are you saying that you need me?" She incited.

With a smile, I replied,

"Glad you asked that question. I don’t need you, Sofia Blake. I don’t even think I’ve ever needed anyone, and now, most certainly not a wife. I only need the services these people can offer, services I make sure to duly compensate"

Of course I need her, and several others in my life, but the minute you let these people know that you need them. Their sense of self worth inflates, letting them believe they are indispensable. A fool’s analogy, because in truth, anyone can be replaced.

It’s one of those harsh truths, but it’s nonetheless true.

I can easily employ top notch judges from high ranking TV and talent shows and relent the entire selection process to them. No doubt in less than 6 months, I will have the best as a wife. But that will mean letting in more people in this scheme. And I can’t have that, which means I can’t have Sofia saying no.

"You don’t have to answer now, at least not before you review a few documents containing the details of this agreement, the terms and conditions, and of course, the benefits"

I clicked on the print button. No doubt she will be screaming yes, after she sees the benefits.

"Be a darling and fetch that from the printer"

I allowed myself a smile of triumph because it was as good as done. Sofia Blake has become my personal assistant.