A Wife for the Billionaire
Chapter 90: RICHARD

Chapter 90: RICHARD

We sat in relatable silence until Lanke pulled into the grounds of the famed Ramsey Estate.

It was another tab on why Mrs Helen was considered a badass. She didn’t just divorce Daniel, got him to divide his properties, while also making him pay monthly allowances, she also got him to leave her, his family estate.

I respect Mrs Helen more than Claire. She’s the sort of woman I need for a wife, someone with the balls to keep the Lords in check in my demise, which really isn’t so far off anymore.

My parents may have suggested Olivia Fisher on a political basis, but I know it’s more than that. They need someone they can easily manipulate, a pawn they can move around the chess board. And Olivia Fisher is obviously the perfect

choice.

Nestled in the heart of Beaver Hills, the Ramsey Estate was a grandiose mansion spanning over 20,000 square feet, boasting of breathtaking views of the New City skyline.

Lanke drove through the winding driveway, lined with manicured hedges and ornate street lights, that led to a grand entrance with a fountain and a circular motor court.

The estate’s façade was a masterful blend of modern and classical architecture, with sleek lines, floor-to-ceiling windows, and a stunning stone exterior.

As Lanke came to a stop by the stairs, Aaron sighed heavily before alighting from the car.

"Dramatic" I noted, carefully lifting the package and stepping out of the car.

"Of course, you would say that. You are her favorite and there’s a chance she won’t be all up your business for being 20 minutes late"

Glancing at my watch, I exasperated,

"Fuck!"

"Yeah, that’s right. Ready?" Aaron asked, his foot on the first stair.

With a nod, we both mounted the stairs to the oak doors with patterns of vines and leaves and roses.

"Ring the doorbell" Aaron mouthed.

"My hands are occupied, why don’t you do it" I mouthed back.

"Liar and a coward" he replied softly, before shrugging his shoulders and ringing the doorbell.

Twenty seconds passed and the door remained closed. Flashing me a questioning look, Aaron rang again.

Again, nothing happened. No approaching footsteps and no sounds came from the other side of the doors.

"Are you sure they are home? Call her" Aaron said.

"Don’t be ridiculous, you call her. Can’t you see that my hands are occupied"

"You can hold that bag with one hand and use your other hand to call her, it’s up to you. I’ve already rung the doorbell, I can’t go calling her for you as well"

"Then call Chad, let him know that we are here, or can’t you do that as well?"

Dialing Chad, Aaron rang the bell again and this time, the door was unlocked.

"Richard, Aaron, how nice of you to make it. I’m sure you have a reasonable excuse for being 25 minutes late. You kept me waiting and I think it’s only fair that I do the same as well" Mrs Helen rasped from the doorway.

"Good evening, Mrs Helen. Here, this is for you, a token of our apology" I said, handing her the package.

"Good evening, Mrs Helen. I only came late because I was waiting for your boy here" Aaron greeted.

Classic Aaron. Sabotaging me to save his ass.

Instead of letting us in, Mrs Helen

manned the door and tore open the package.

"Hmmm, 1945 Mouton Rothschild. Mm hmm, wow, you gents sure know how to make a woman feel special, no wonder them girls be throwing themselves all over you. But isn’t this one of the few remaining bottles, how did you get your hands on this, it must’ve cost a fortune?"

Mrs Helen may have been married to a billionaire, but she never forgot where she came from. Even now that she was the CEO of Ramsey Chain of Hotels, at least those left for her by Daniel. Which was all of his properties in New City, while he relocated to London with his new family.

She still was conscious of money. That was why Chad’s card was maxed because as his mom, she didn’t allow him to spend more than necessary.

"Nah, I don’t know, but you know me, Mrs Helen," I began, slipping past her as she admired the wine, "I wanted to bring you your fave, 1961 Petrus, but Aaron here, insisted that you are too special for that and since it’s been awhile, he really wanted to make up for it and the fact that we’ll be late"

"Aww my sweet Aaron," she pulled his cheek and continued, "that’s so sweet of you, come on in, my darling, come on in" and she led a nonplussed Aaron inside, her arm hooked around his.

Smiling as they walked past me, Aaron glaring at me for what I had done, I teased,

"Ouch Helen, you really hurt my feelings how quickly you discarded me because it seems you’ve found yourself a new favorite"

Stopping dead on her tracks, her arm still looped around Aaron’s, she turned to me and said,

"Richard Wellington, that would be Mrs Helen from now on, only Aaron is privy to call me ’Helen’ and yeah, he’s my new favorite. Your old ass was definitely due for dumping, you and your cheap ass 1961 Petrus"

"Hel... sorry, Mrs Helen, are you really going to do me like that? Damn! You must’ve been one hell of a player"

"Boy, you have no idea. Now, come on, let’s have some dinner before I change my mind and decide to punish you for keeping me starving by waiting for your raggedy-ass"

Karen, Chad’s elder sister was already seated at the table, Gertrude, their maid serving her.

The formal dining room of the Ramsey Estate was a sight that no matter how many times I’ve seen it, that feeling of awe never dulls or fails to surprise.

Lavished with marble and hardwood, it was a symphony of luxury and opulence.

Expensive artworks from famous artists adorned the wood lacquered walls. A dramatic chandelier like icicles hung above, casting a golden glow over the cream and black marble floors and the silver flatware on the table.

Ten chairs were arrayed on both sides of the table and at both ends only one chair stood on one side. The other which was where Daniel usually sat had been removed permanently.

The Ramsey household by Mrs Helen’s order, had ridden the house of anything that once belonged to her ex-husband. The night she discovered that he was cheating on her, Mrs Helen had wrecked the house. When she told us about it, she said that she wasn’t really angry at Daniel, but herself for being so blind that she didn’t see or notice anything for one whole year.

Mrs Helen hated being played. She hated being the fool. The victim, for most part of her life, people looked at her like she was a victim and just when she thought she was over that shit, Daniel made certain she wasn’t.

Various news channels, blogs, magazines, websites had carried the news of their divorce and that was why she had fought to turn things around. To secure a win in a losing situation. A victory in a battle already lost.

And in spite of all she collected from Daniel, how badass it made her look, people still saw her as a victim. The black woman who her white husband

had cheated on for a while without her knowledge. It was pathetic. It was foolish.

So now, Mrs Helen fought each day to change the narrative from the billionaire ex-wife to an independent woman making it on her own.

"Karen, where is your brother?" Mrs Helen asked.

"How am I supposed to know? Been busting my ass trying to make sure our expansion to the Frenchs go according to plan without dad sabotaging it, what has Chad been doing, if not sleeping his pathetic ass off and getting high." Karen gruffed.

Ignoring her daughter, Mrs Helen faced the help, "Gertrude, I thought I dismissed you for the night, so what are you doing here?"

"I was on my way out when Ms Karen, called me back"

"Leave. My daughter, no matter how stressful her day, can at least dish out the food I spent hours in the kitchen making" Mrs Helen commanded.

As all these was happening, Aaron had

tried to unloop his arm from that of Mrs Helen’s, but the lady wasn’t bulging.

"Yes ma’am. Goodnight" Gertrude said, wiping her hands with a napkin.

Mrs Helen was kind to her house staff, but she was also strict and they feared her just as her children and we.

For a 5.5 with a raspy voice, Mrs Helen had a commanding presence. She was a force and everyone who comes in contact with her, knows.

"Karen, go and get your brother, drag him out of that bed if you have to, his friends are here to see him. Now! God dammit, the food is not running away"

As if she hadn’t just made her daughter dash the stairs like someone pursued by a phantom, and our hearts jump, Mrs Helen turned to us smiling and said,

"Gentlemen, shall we eat?"