A Wife for the Billionaire
Chapter 48: RICHARD

Chapter 48: RICHARD

There has been speculation and rumors about scientists being on the verge of creating a cutting edge technology that can erase painful and scary memories from the brain.

The first time I heard such a rumor, I had asked Ray if it were true. If somehow or in any way, Xander Technologies were part of this new creation process. It was projects like this that his father usually invested in, projects that would not only shake the entire world, but amass profits unlike ever seen or heard of.

I remember the incredulous look Ray gave me when I told him of it. Like I was speaking Japanese.

He didn’t believe it until we researched about it and discovered it was true, though the details of the tech remained scarce. Almost like it was confidential.

Ray even got his father involved, to see if the almighty Xander West would be able to get firsthand information on this tech, but he couldn’t.

I came across that rumor, or fact rather a year after what was the hardest of my life. I recall wishing, praying and investing a lot to see if I could perhaps secure the first usage privilege, but the tech remained ever sketchy and out of reach.

I was willing to let go of the memories of that year, the sixteen year of existence. And now, 8 years later, this tech is yet to be fashioned. Perhaps the implications and intrication of altering the memories of the brain, forced production to cease.

Or maybe, the tech has been finished, and the government was hoarding it for themselves or as an advantage over

other competitive world powers.

Whatever may be the case, I think I would still love for memories of that year to be erased from my mind.

Even as I recalled such dark times, I feel the pain, the sorrow, the tears, the yelling, the fake smiles, the concealments... all fresh in my mind like a new coat of paint.

Rewinding to the day it all started, I had left Claire speechless and laying on the cold marble floors of our living room as I ascended the stairs to my room, slamming the door with enough force to set even my own teeth on edge.

I had wanted to switch to my normal routine, eat lunch, do my assignments, study and play games, which would eventually usher me to sleep, but the words I had heard downstairs kept my mind charging.

Who had they been referring to?

Who was he that even my father was a bit afraid of him?

Who was this villain that had entered into our story and twisted it with such a horrifying plot twist?

Since he mentioned me, should I be afraid?

Should I always watch my back now, more than I ever did before?

How had it been that for more than six years now, I’m just getting the information about my mom... no, she was no longer that, Claire’s unfaithfulness?

No wonder, they fought. My mind went on, I knew that something had changed, but I dismissed it as the normal marriage issues that arise when a marriage is to be tested, but it had been more. And even as I pride myself as an observant person, I didn’t see it. I didn’t notice it. They had fooled me. They had blinded to the truth and had the past not collided with the present, I would still be completely clueless.

Wait, who was Razor and what had my father meant by ’there won’t be any mistakes’?

What was he planning? Was he really going to kill this man in question?

Could he be that cruel?

My father had called him ’a world renowned criminal’ but what does that have to do with his wife?

Could it be that she(the wife) was also in on what her husband was doing?

Who was this man to demand "200 million dollars from my father as if he was fucking Elon Musk?

My father was rich, I remember my mind answering. He’s a billionaire, but giving another such amount of money could take it all away. It could level our status to that of the other Lords and that can’t happen.

How are we going to get through this?

Will my father succeed or will he meet a fate similar to those he sent?

But, how well did I really know my father? That gangster shit I heard, was it really true and how invested was he in such activities?

I knew then, that my father as a billionaire must’ve taken measures in safeguarding his life and ours, but really, was it that dark?

Could we ever get past this phase unscathed? Or was it going to change everything forever?

Will everything ever be normal again?

My mind had charged and charged with thoughts, reeling mostly on the bad. But, really in such a circumstance, was there any chance for a positive outcome? Could the mind in such disheveled state veer towards optimism?

I remember trying to blockade my thoughts with blaring music from my headphones, but all it did was mute them until I eventually fell asleep.

The days that followed were the worst days of my life. We maintained appearances during social outings, we smiled and pretended for the cameras, but within - we were broken. We were battling a psycho who was hell bent on destroying our family.

Several times, I had asked for the identity of this man, but they had kept it secret. I couldn’t even pry the answer out of my mom during her drunk fits.

She had taken to drinking after Edward, my father drew ever farther from her.

His response had always been, especially during those silent breakfasts where we all sit as if all was well and she breaks the silence by inquiring of his whereabouts the night before.

"What do you expect, Claire? I still have my hands full with the case of your boyfriend, perhaps when he backs down or manages to die then I can have time to share your bed"

He usually rose and left after that. Claire would break down into another of her crying fits and that was usually my cue to exit the dining table. On school days, I would leave immediately, but on weekends, it was either I retired to my room and keep listening to music or I simply sought for a reason to be anywhere than there.

It was during those days that I became an addict. Pills helped me sleep and kept me alert and happy during the day. It helped me forget that my life was a pile of hot mess. That my mom cheated. That the same man she cheated on my father with, was now back seeking revenge and making atrocious demands.

I really tried to focus on my academics, to study, but that term my grades had tanked despite my efforts.

In spite of having already secured a scholarship, my dad still took that failure as an excuse to deal with me.

Because of the late nights, and occasional early rush-offs to the office, it took two days before he discovered my grades.

It was on a Saturday and we were having our iconic silent breakfast. I had suspected that something was wrong because ever since I came downstairs, he had been looking at me funny.

He had the modesty of allowing me to finish my pancakes before he smeared my failure to my face like the honey that coated my fingers from the pancakes.

"Richard, what is this I hear of your grades?" He had asked.

"It’s nothing, I fluked my grades because of all that has been happening" I had simply replied.

"Because of all that has been happening," he repeated, "pray tell what does that even mean?"

"This," I said, pointing at the three of us.

"How does any of it stop you from reading or studying? You’ve always been weak and I must say I’m not really surprised that you were shaken by all this to the point of failing"

I had been pissed at that. Claire remained silent, her eyes rimmed purple due to tiredness.

"Technically I didn’t fail, I just didn’t do well as I usually do_"

"Listen to yourself! To the pathetic nonsense you are spitting, failure is failure no matter how you put it"

My legs had been tapping furiously under the table, I hadn’t taken my pill that morning and the absence of its soothing qualities was doing things to my anxiety charts.

My body itched. My legs kept tapping. I was as pissed as hell, so I did the one thing I needed at that moment. I rose to leave.

" And where are you going?" He had asked, but I didn’t stop.

I was one foot on the stairs when I heard him slam his palms on the dining table.

"I asked a question goddamnit! Where are you going?"

My rage had reached its peak as I turned and lashed,

"Why do you care? You don’t get to be absent all these while, coming home late, leaving early, not inquiring about me or my day and then suddenly act like you care because of my fucking grades! To hell with that nonsense"

I had ran up the stairs after that, and in haste to take my pills, I hadn’t locked my door. I didn’t even know that he had been following me, he met me popping the pills to my mouth,

"What’s that?"

"None of your business, just leave"

"Richard, I asked, what did you just take?"

It was clear in his voice, he was really, really pissed. But I didn’t care.

"It’s nothing to bother yourself about"

And that was it. Before I could blink, he was already on me, pinning me to the floor and decorating my face with punches,while yelling again and again,

" What was it? Speak! What was it?!"

He didn’t even offer me the chance to speak, he kept landing blows upon blows.

I think I passed out, and when I regained consciousness, I found myself - hospitalized. While others went to prom, I laid at the hospital nursing the injuries my own father gave to me.

So, no, I don’t really regret putting him in his place two years later and getting him hospitalized just as he did moi.