A Wife for the Billionaire
Chapter 37: SOFIA

Chapter 37: SOFIA

The saying that beggars can’t be choosers, is a platitude that truly hints at the choicelessness that pleading subjects one to.

Another item in the list of things I hated doing was begging. Especially for things that normally I shouldn’t be pleading for.

But life as a bitch can often leave us with no choice but to beg. Just as it’s doing now, as I face the reputable CEO of the Wellington Fashion Empire.

He had his hands steepled as he leaned forward in expectancy.

For 8 years, I didn’t beg for anything. All my needs were met even before I voiced them. I had everything at my beck and call, but not anymore.

For everything I want. For every need, I had to beg for it. I had to grovel until my pleas were deemed enough.

Alicia loved it when I begged. It gave her utmost satisfaction to see me go down on my knees and plead.

I remember the very first morning after Simon Reed dumped me at her doorpost. Apparently they had discussed it before he abandoned me there and disappeared into the night.

Felix and Agatha (late now) took me inside. I hadn’t really spoken all day. The trauma of having my whole existence - altered, left me speechless.

The shock of it was too great that my lips were sealed.

They asked me questions, and I didn’t answer. They said things, their voices sounding muffled, far away and distant and I didn’t make out most of their words.

"Oh you poor thing, you are shaking as a drenched cat, here, let me cover you with this. Felix, I should make her something hot."

"My dear, are you alright?"

"Do you feel comfortable, dearest?"

"Are you hungry, my love?"

"Felix, I don’t think she can hear us. Maybe she’s deaf or mute. I don’t know, but she has been passive to every question we’ve asked or words we’ve said"

"I think she’s in shock. Look at her, no really look at her Agatha, it’s obvious she has been through a lot, I think we should leave her until tomorrow when Madam Alicia wakes up"

They were saying, but I wasn’t really listening. The only thing that was echoing through my mind then was my mom’s screams as they dragged her away while I hid in the closet stifling a sob with both hands.

"I don’t know where he is! Please believe me, I don’t. Please! Don’t take me away! Please let me stay!"

I remember being like a zombie that day. The news flashing through my mind again and again.

"Simon Reed, AKA the Red Terror. The World Most Wanted Criminal has been identified."

I saw it before my mom closed my eyes. Before she ordered me to go to my room. I saw his portrait, the face of the man I once called ’dad’ placed side by side with the face everyone hated. A red hoodie, and a black gleaming mask as if fashioned with something metallic, layering underneath. Both pictures were on the left side of the TV screen as we watched the news.

I heard it as well,

"The world renowned heister who recently robbed the World Bank with his gang of Red Hoods has finally been identified by one of his gang members, as Simon Reed, a broker in New City. With his recent heist tagged as his greatest yet, he and his gang managed to cripple the world finances for seven days before the teamed efforts of the law enforcement agencies brought about the arrest of a Red Hood which led to subsequent arrests of others and identification of the gang leader who is yet to be apprehended_"

Even before that day I had heard of the Red Terror, but I never knew the man was my father. That the man who sang me lullabies, told me the funniest bedtime stories and kissed me goodnight was actually the same man who had robbed so many organizations. The man whose name was said in hushes and whispers.

He and his gang had operated for nine years without ever facing the cuffs of the law. They were slick, they were fast and smart. Every move made in effort to capture them - they outmaneuvered and escaped.

I remember sobbing silently as silence settled over our house and my mom’s screams faded out.

I don’t really remember how long I cried, but I think I dozed off. My tears - dry streaks on my puffed cheeks.

"Hey, hey, Sof, wake up" I remember a man saying as he shook me.

Drowsily, I replied, recognizing that voice,

"Dad? Is that you? Dad!" And I had thrown myself at him as I properly took in his features.

"Hey, little mischief, we have to go like now" and he was already tugging at me to follow him.

I remember following him without question and then, I blurted as we arrived in the sitting room and I remembered the news, stilling to a halt.

"Dad, is it true? Are you really Red Terror?"

"Hey, my favorite trouble" he began kneeling before me and holding my arms. "All you need to know is that Daddy loves you and mom, forget what they say..." looking away and as if talking to himself, he added, "perhaps one day you’ll understand."

My sobbing began anew,

"But they took mom... they took her" and I was hitting him on his chest with little fists of frustration and fury.

He pulled me to him and wrapped his hands around me even as I protested,

"No, no, leave me alone. This is all your fault. It’s all your fault"

"Hey, shuuush, it’s okay. You are okay. Everything will be fine. Mom will be fine. I will do all I can to make sure of it. Don’t worry."

And without a chance to ask another question or argue, he scooped me into his arms and we left the house through a secret door hidden behind the bookshelves.

A motorcycle had been waiting at the far end of our street after we made our way through people’s backyards and gardens.

I had held him tightly, as his words echoed and thrummed through my disheveled mind.

I had known it then, I wasn’t fine and I wasn’t going to be. Mom won’t be fine, neither would he and nothing he does would make anything fine again. But I kept silent and allowed my tears to drift with the sweeping winds as we sped into the night.

We stopped at where I came to later discover - was Leek Park, beside one of the growing shrubs that offered secrecy and shade from peering eyes, though we saw and met no one. It had been so late that most people were already snoring in their beds.

Same as we had done exiting our street, we walked through backyards, gardens and shadows of buildings until we stopped at the house with gargoyles on the stairs leading to the doorpost.

He led me up the stairs and said,

"Um, hey, my little Miss Rogue, daddy has to go and try to make things right. You have to stay with the Blakes until I can, be a good girl and do all you are told to do." Kissing me on my forehead, he finished, "Daddy loves you, don’t ever forget that"

Rising, he knocked,

"Please daddy don’t leave me alone here. Are you coming back? Daddy!"

And he separated our joined hands, kissed my forehead again even as tears cascaded down my cheeks and disappeared into the night. The doors opened a minute later and two concerned faces stared at me.

Be a good girl.

He had said and in spite of how much I hated him that moment, I obeyed.

I don’t think it was because I wanted to obey. I think it was more of my weariness and the crushing weight his departure left. I just didn’t have the strength to protest or for anything else for that matter.

So, after a series of silence, Felix and Agatha left me alone. I remember just laying there not taking the hot mug of chocolate Agatha made for me or the bread rolls she left.

I just laid there, tears silently streaking down my cheeks until sleep wrapped its hands on me.

When I awoke, my tears came afresh as memories came crashing. More streaked as I took in the room that wasn’t mine. The room that was now the present and the old one - the past.

The bed was smaller and had an iron head post, the curtains and spread was yellow as opposed to the blues of my room. The walls were cracked and the lemon paint was faded and peeling.

In horror I had dashed out of there, on my way down the stairs. I heard Alicia’s voice for the very first time,

"Well, if it’s not Sleeping Beauty, I hope you slept well?"

I didn’t sleep well, but something told me then that I had to be careful with the woman dressed crisp in a well tailored suit and pants, who sat sipping tea and the miniatures of her glaring at me beside her over their breakfasts.

My stomach growled at the sight and

smell of food, and Alicia asked,

"Are you hungry?"

"Um... yes ma’am."

She had smiled, beckoning me forward.

"Wait!" She halted my movement to the dining table, "young lady this is not your house, so here are the rules. What’s that your name again?"

"Sofia" at her raised brows, I added, "Reed"

"That’s right, now listen very carefully, you are Sofia Blake from this second, the bastard daughter of my late husband, Mr Francis Blake, the drunk and addicted gambler." More to herself, she added, "at least his indulgences would sale the story that he had a bastard daughter"

The girls beside her, twins I realized, kept glaring at me and whispering to each other, inciting snickers among themselves.

"Sofia Blake, got it." I answered.

"Good, at least that malefactor father of yours was right about one thing, you are a smart little thing. Now, you hiding out here with my name is a privilege you can never repay, so you will have to work for your stay. Felix and Agatha will take you under their wing, and get you acquainted with your duties. Lastly, for everything you want or need, you will have to beg for it. Don’t think it’s cruelty, I’m doing it for your own good, who knows if you have that same bad blood as your father, this way even if you do, being used to begging for everything would make you unreceptive to taking anything that isn’t yours. Starting now, you are hungry right? Beg for it"

And that was how it started, my life of begging and groveling. Where for everything I wanted or needed, I had to either beg, cry or grovel for it.

My lips have begged so many times that it knows the words even before I think it.

And now, I was about to do it again for Richard-annoying-Wellington.