A Wife for the Billionaire
Chapter 39: SOFIA

Chapter 39: SOFIA

The thing about begging is that the more you do it, subsequently the shame subsides with time.

Perhaps that’s not right. I think what I meant to say is that with a person, like me and Alicia, constant begging can dull out shame. But with a peer, especially an obnoxious one like this dark-haired man before me, the shame hits anew.

Begging or groveling before Alicia, as many times as I’ve done it, feels as normal as a conversation between a stepmom and a stepdaughter. Everyone knows how the story of stepmoms and stepdaughters usually goes, rarely are they besties.

I may have resolved to beg Richard, but that doesn’t mean it was going to be easy. How could it be with that glint in his eyes? That luster in his eyes as he

waited for me to do it.

It may seem like begging for a tour was a misplaced priority. Any normal person would be directing that energy to changing his mind regarding the job position. But when you are left with just one option like me, priorities and choices are simply not on the table.

Besides, his mind was already made up concerning the job, it was Cole’s and begging for it would be a waste of time and energy.

Resolved to my fate, I decided to not only beg, but to do so in a way that my dignity may remain intact, and at the same time make it seem like I was totally sacrificing it for him.

Switching to the role like discharging a cloth and donning another, I submerged myself to the act.

Slowly, I decreased my height, bending one knee and the other.

Good.

I murmured to myself as his expression turned to surprise and then, disapproval. He hadn’t expected this and that was all the motivation I needed to keep the act going.

It was hard, giving it my all and at the same time faking it.

My face to the panel wooden floors, I said,

"With my knees to the floor, I urge you, Sir, to please grant me this opportunity to see this place of creativity that I had been dreaming of"

Sir. That was brilliant. It was a reminder that we were no longer on the first name basis as before. It was a lesson hinting that I had learnt of my place and I now know that he’s above me.

But it was also a mockery and as much as I tried to layer it with my tone of reverence, he knew.

Exasperated, because this was not going at all the way he wanted, he tsked.

It was a rare display of emotion, for someone so guarded especially in the affairs of his emotions, letting that slip was a testament of how good I was doing on my own end.

Tucking away the smile that was twitching my lips, I looked up - my gaze, shadowed by feigned surprise as I quickly offered,

"It was never my intention to get you annoyed, good Sir. I just wanted to live something that was once a dream, that’s all."

Good Sir.

This keeps getting better and better. His scowl deepened and from his furrowed brows, I knew he was pissed.

I didn’t even care, all I needed was to get him so infuriated that he would dismiss me with my favor granted in a bid to be ridden of me.

Pulling up another trick from mind, I made doggy eyes at him and piled my hands in a plea.

"Can you stop already?!" He yelled, frustrated at last.

"Sir, I don’t get what you mean, stop what?"

Even my tone was adjusted just to fit the role and it seemed it came with a bonus, he hated my tone.

"Oh don’t act dumb, you know exactly what I’m talking about" he said rising and walking to the front of his desk, where he sat with his arms folded, his legs propped over the other, giving me a look that said, "Do not mess with me"

"To be honest, I still don’t get you Sir, what exactly are you talking about?" I asked, feigning innocence.

"Wow, you are really good. I wonder if

anyone has ever told you that? But it’s not cute anymore, just quit it and for your sake I hope I don’t repeat myself again" he said.

He was right, I was good. Mr Daffy, our play coordinator during my high school days, made sure to remind me that after each play. No matter the role he assigned to me, I performed like I was indeed the supposed character.

"Please Sir, I’m confused. What am I doing that I need to stop? Just tell me"

That had prompted him to offer a retort, but he kept his cool even though I knew he was boiling with rage.

"Sofia Blake, do not test me." he toned.

"Test you, how could I even try such a thing, all I’m doing is asking for a favor.

A favor I hope you will grant" I continued, testing him like he specified.

"Keep up that act and you might have to remain in that position longer because I _"

"I honestly don’t mind, Sir, so long as I get what I want" I quickly interrupted, cutting him from what I knew he was going to say.

There was no way I was going to allow him say no... yet again. And I knew just how much he hated being interrupted.

"Tell me," he said after seconds of cooling his features back to indifference, "how do you plan on getting this thing you want, by putting up this fake ass show of patheticness, if you think I’m buying it then you are denser than I gave you credit"

It was a ploy. His insults were aimed at

aggravating me the same way I was driving him nuts with my act.

Employing his insults, I said,

"I appreciate the insult, Sir. It shows that you actually care, and that there’s still a chance for this favor of mine"

I watched his legs disentangle and spread a few inches, his right hand propping his jaw, he commanded, "Get up"

"Respectfully Sir, I decline. That’s not how it works, the pleader can’t rise unless her terms are met or what she’s requesting for is done. I will only rise, when you have granted me the favor" I replied.

"If that’s the case then prepare to stay kneeling for such a long time because I don’t intend to grant you such favor, not now... not ever."

"Please Sir, I beg of you. Please don’t do this. Please"

Tears dampened my cheeks as I pleaded.

"Stop it this instant, just STOP!"

"Here you go again, Sir. What about what I’m doing should I stop?"

He gave me an incredulous look as if I was the most stupid person he had ever

dealt with.

No longer able to hold it in, his band of patience finally stretched to snapping, he said,

"All of it. Everything about what you are doing is annoying. You see this... this thing you are doing and have going on, the face, the eyes, the hands, that change of tone, the ’Sir’ bullshit, all of it. I need you to stop it all and rise the fuck from there."

"No." I said after he was done.

It’s usually the small things, the little things that often cause one to snap and his was those two letters. He slammed both of his fists hard on the desk.

Taken back by his outburst, I shuddered, taking a knee back.

Like a better, who knows he is and might be for a long time, he stalked towards me, each step bringing about a corresponding knee back in retreat.

Soon, I ran out of space as I felt my feet collide with the extreme wall, and yet he kept coming until he loomed over me.

My heart pounded furiously as he bent. A thousand things could happen now. And so long as he was concerned, none would be good.

I tried not to piss myself as he lifted my scowling face with his index, his dark pools sucking me in as he asked,

"What exactly do you mean by no?"

If he wanted to know, fine! I’ll tell him. I gritted my teeth, squared my shoulders, wiped my tears and willed myself to rage.

In situations like this, where fear threatened to take over, rage was the only emotion that I knew could overshadow and overpower my scare.

I had knelt with my butts seated on my legs, and as rage took over, I lifted myself to meet his gaze. My face - dangerously close to his. I could make out the lines, furrows and creases of his hatred for me. His minty breath was hot on my face, as I challenged,

"No, as in that I refuse to back down. No, that I refuse to take no for an answer and no to leaving here or rising to my feet without you granting me the favor I asked. Now, how’s that for a no?"

In that moment, as we breathed on each other’s faces. Our eyes locked on a glaring battle of hate. Our lips - just a breath apart, his woody scent - intoxicating my senses, his gaze shimmering between hate and fascination, I almost thought he was going to do something that he would regret seconds after it happened.