A Wife for the Billionaire
Chapter 42: RICHARD

Chapter 42: RICHARD

"Sir...?"

I looked up from my laptop to see a nervous Vera, on the door. One of her ears - as red as cherry.

"Yes?" I asked in a voice that toned just how irritated I was.

"Erm... permit me to quote as it was relayed"

This wasn’t her first time coming to tell me that everyone had gathered for the board meeting and my presence was needed as chairman.

"And who is it from?"

"Your father, Sir."

If it was Edward Wellington, then I

really have to get going, but first I had to hear the message.

"Well, go on then. Spit it out already"

Taking a deep breath, she said, "Tell him that if I have to entertain one more dry joke from Lord Day on account of waiting for him, then he should be ready to make up for it. And it will be costly"

Of course, those were his words. My father may put up that look of kindness and compassion for the cameras, but in reality he was nothing short of strict.

Everyone knew him as the kind philanthropist, the first Wellington CEO to host too-many-to-count charity balls and fundraisers for those who really needed it.

But to me, he will always be the man who made sure to punish me everyday for 18 years, because I was born weak. The man who had punished me at the slightest provocation, not bothering to care for my weak heart.

He had taught me cruelty. In his hands, I learned that being born weak means I simply have to do more, strive for more and settle for nothing less than the best... no matter what it takes or who I crush to get there.

It was because of him that I’m as twisted as I am now. He made me into the man I am now and most times I scoff at his recent behavior.

After the episode that happened on my 20th birthday, he changed. He became that man who had spoken to me just this morning.

The man who had told me to ’treat people better that my longevity may depend on it’ after years of inculcating harshness and cruelty in me. The man who had spoken of me firing the clerk for something as ’inconsequential’ as a typo whereas had it been him four years ago, he would have done worse than just fire the man. He would have ruined the man’s life.

It was after the doctor explained to him that his son had ten years tops to live that it dawned on him that I was really dying. From that day, he had started treating me like he cared. He became ’The father of the year’ after that encounter.

The issue of getting a wife, to be honest, he was handling it better than I would have hoped. Was it the Edward Wellington of four years ago, he would have gotten a girl already and forced me to impregnate her while he watched, belt in hand if I refused.

At eighteen, two years after I entered college, I had summoned the courage to put him in his place.

My friends, Aaron and Chad had been urging me to stand up to him for years, but it was Raymond West from college that made me do it.

Ray, as he preferred to be called, had been my lounge mate. He was the son of the tech billionaire, Xander West of Xander technologies. Like me, his father was just as controlling. Eager to punish and remind him of what was at stake. And quick to let him know of the responsibility he was to shoulder.

Before Ray, I did drugs. I potted, drank and I smoked. As fucked up as my life was, it was impossible not to indulge. Being high made it easier, it often made me forget just how messed up me and my life was.

But I have never gotten high enough to say no to Edward Wellington... until I met Ray.

Ray was cool, way cooler than Aaron and Chad, though I never told them that. We all were supposed to go to the same college, but Edward being Edward, made sure I went to college away from my friends. According to him, they were ne’er-do-wells who would never amount to anything and would drag me down with them if I continued to hang with them.

He said that about them, because my friend’s parents didn’t treat them as strict and cruel as he did me.

But in separating me from my friends, he had given me the opportunity to meet Ray. Because if we all had gone to the same college, we would have lived together.

Ray was among the coolest kids in school. He was a freshman like me, but it took him just a week for him to rise to the top of the charts.

He was among the first to receive invites to every party, not just any invite, but VIP. I had been cool, but meeting Ray showed me exactly what it means to be a billionaire’s son. He lived his life like he didn’t care. His mantra had been, "Fuck the future, we live for the now"

It was in the morning after a crazy night. We had partied until it was 4am, smoking weed - the dope shit as girls gave us BJs. Taking shots while they rocked our woods. Bending them over and fucking them in our highness until they lost consciousness. Ordering new girls who we repeated the same thing until we grew tired of their asses or got crystal dicks. All of these we did under the glow of disco balls or neon lights in the VIP section of whatever club or party we went to.

Two naked girls flanked my sides as I laid butt naked in my king-sized bed, dozing. It was 8am and I was not planning to get up, not even in the next five hours.

My phone had rung syncing with the dream I was having, where I was speaking with Ray about our recent party when my phone started ringing too. In the dream, I remember looking at the screen and it was Aaron who was calling.

Being more engrossed by my conversation with Ray and honestly not feeling him (Aaron) and even Chad, I didn’t pick up. Again it started ringing and in frustration I had declined the call. A while later, I got a voicemail.

"Richard!"

I jerked awake as I heard my father’s voice.

Ignoring the groans of disapproval from the girls, I listened as the voicemail went on, "So this is how it is. I give you a modicum of freedom and this is how you chose to spend it. Partying all night, skipping classes and who knows what else! You’ve just confirmed what I’ve always known, that you are nothing short of a disappointment." I remember hearing Claire’s voice faintly from the background, "Honey, that was too harsh. Remember he’s just a kid and this is what they do in their teens, pl_"

"Don’t you dare cover for him." His voice continued. "In just a few days, he’ll be eighteen, an adult. So don’t give me that lame ass excuse of him being a child. He’s a grown ass man who should be responsible not gallivanting all over campus doing all and everything that he wasn’t sent there to do. I had thought separating him from those friends of his would give him the focus he needs, but your fool of a son that I often wonder if it was I who sired him_"

"Edward, don’t you dare." Claire had interjected.

"Oh keep shut, woman. With the way you’ve been sleeping around, who knows? Anyway, James!"

James was my father’s chauffeur. He had been with him long enough that he was more like a personal assistant then, and even now that my father had retired. He was always close and readily available.

"Here, Sir" I remember hearing him answer in that meek, deep tone of his.

"My son’s flight, when is it scheduled?"

"Next week, Sir"

"Find a way to push it up to this weekend. That boy must come home and explain his actions, or God help me there won’t be any birthday party next week"

"I will try, Sir"

"I don’t need you to try, I expect it to be done in the next hour. Did you hear that, Richy, you better start packing"

And the voicemail beeped to an end.

I remember sitting there, butt naked, and staring at my phone where I had discarded it earlier that morning on the white furry rug.

"Shit! thank God, my dad ain’t like that" the blond girl who I didn’t remember her name said as she gathered her things.

Her words had startled me back to reality, and normally I would’ve choked her pouty ass until she lost consciousness, with words of apology on her lips. But I couldn’t even move, I just sat there and watched as she hurriedly tried to get dressed, before Ray yelled,

"What are you hoes still doing here, everybody get the fuck out... NOW!"

The three girls who lay with him on his bed, and the two with me, dashed out of our lounge not even bothering to get dressed.

"Hey," he said, standing and stretching his suntanned body and his really white butt and pubic region, a sharp contrast to the other parts of his body.

"Don’t let him get to you. You shouldn’t give him that power. Fuck him! Say it, ’Fuck him!"

I remember saying and yelling it, again and again as Ray demanded. Each time, more louder and angrier than the last.

I hated him. I hated that his words could hurt me to paralysis. I hated that he was my dad and I remember wishing I could trade my life of privilege for one with parents who loved and adored me more than anything else in the world, no matter how wretched they were.

Ray had lit a wrap of weed, before walking up to me, his dick swinging with the motion. He sat beside me and offered me a smoke.

It was that morning as we puffed, did he tell me what to do and how to do it.