A Wife for the Billionaire
Chapter 96: RICHARD

Chapter 96: RICHARD

I had tried to stealthily make my way to the front gate where Lanke packed waiting for me, but I should have known that nothing happens in the Ramsey Estate without Mrs Helen’s knowledge.

She had caught me just as I was about to cross the fountain.

After we spent hours talking and drinking champagne and whiskey, I had been too drunk and tired to bother returning to my apartment.

Not that the boys would have ever allowed me go, with the news of my travel plans, they want us to spend as much time together as possible.

We hadn’t had a sleepover since our college days during breaks and holidays. But we did, last night.

And yeah, I know it sounds weird, three grown ass men sharing a room and sleeping on the same bed, it’s the gayest thing ever. But we were all straight, and the love we shared was platonic.

After a light breakfast, Mrs Helen finally allowed me to go. My friends were still sleeping, we had really drank ourselves shitless last night, but of the three of us. I was the one who could handle his liquor.

The sky had a purplish tint as Lanke drove me back to my house at Tall Springs. Over the horizon, the glow of the rising sun lined it orange.

I could handle my liquor, but that didn’t mean that I was excused from hangovers. My head hurt and I was tired, but with my responsibility calling, I didn’t dare not answer.

I had a lot to do. Especially before my meeting with Sofia Blake. If this was going to work, then it must be a contract. She must sign an NDA not to ever disclose to anyone about the selection process.

And I had just a few hours to draft a contract for her to review and sign immediately. If the bitch had sense enough not to pass on such an opportunity. But I don’t think she would, she’s desperate, and desperate people hardly ever pass on opportunities.

Besides, I know how to present an offer. In my time since I became the CEO of Wellington Fashion Empire, I don’t think anyone has ever turned down my offer. If anything, they wholly accepted it like their very life depended on it and most times, as a contingency plan, I made sure their lives depended on it.

I know what a girl like Sofia wants and by dangling her wants before her like a dog, I would make her play fetch for me.

She had said something about owning her own brand and that should be my main focus. Feasting on her dreams and aspirations, so she would help me actualize some of mine.

It would take barely up to a year, the selection process, I mean. So, why don’t I promise her that after helping me choose a worthy wife, she’ll be compensated enough to start up her brand. A brand that I doubt will survive against the likes of so many already scrambling for the crumbs left by the Wellingtons and Dames.

By noon, I was done with a draft of the annual contract. And I’ve reviewed it twice, with the benefits I added, Sofia would sign the document immediately, trapping herself in some of the loops I

blended into them.

I hated it when people couldn’t keep to time. But of course, should I expect anything less from such a pissy person like Sofia. Who knows, she might be doing it intentionally to spite me. Just as she never replied to my text last night.

I mean who does that, who views a text from me, Richard-darling-Wellington and doesn’t respond. Nobody has ever done something like that before, not even my parents. But fucking Sofia, a bastard, had done it.

The girl was proud, prouder than her low status. People will talk of course when they hear that the bastard daughter of the late Francis Blake, is now my personal assistant, but I have never been one to pay heed to idle gossip. That’s if the bitch will take the job.

Part of the reason why I’m willing to employ her is to make her pay. I once said that someone like her couldn’t be broken in a day, and if she’s stupid enough not to read in between the lines before signing the contract, then she paid very dearly by the time we were through. What makes it even more exciting is that once she signs the NDA, she can’t back down or leave until after she has helped me pick a wife.

A knock pulled me away from my premature victory oneirisms. Looking up, I saw through the glass, Vera and a few paces behind her, Sofia-fucking-Blake.

"Come in," I announced.

Peering through the door, Vera said,

"Sir, Sofia Blake is here to see you, she claims she has an appointment with you, should I..."

"Just let her in," I said, cutting her off. I was still pissed at her for not showing me the list of candidates and she knows it.

"Yes Sir" she meekly voiced, retreating her head.

A moment later, Sofia whooshed her way into my office. Again, I found myself mesmerized by her looks, for someone so pissy, she was really beautiful.

Her rich dark hair was loose around her shoulders, but pulled away from her face by a braid like a tiara, circling her hair. Her eyes, once shining with pride, today look dull. Her lips were void of any lipstick or gloss and yet they still were still very kissable in shades of fading pink.

"Wait what! Kissable, when did I go from hating the bitch to wanting to kiss

her?" I thought to myself.

Someone as ruly as Sofia was the kind that I messed with just as a plaything. Her type was the kind that I make fall for me, then break her afterwards.

Keeping those thoughts pending, I took in her attire, very unofficial I might add. She donned an orange cropped top that read ’Not your Bitch’ with black high waist jeans. She held a black purse on her right hand and on her feet were A black and white Nike Blazers.

Her stance was... wrong. Not the confident domineering feminine pose, I’ve seen in our previous meetings. Her entire bitch energy was off, her left palm rested on her lap, her fingers tapping slightly.

She was nervous. The outspoken proud Sofia Blake was nervous, unbelievable!

Perhaps she had learnt her lesson already, because the old Sofia wouldn’t still be standing. She would have helped herself to a seat without waiting for an invitation.

I really hoped it wasn’t that, what fun would it be breaking someone already broken? Bringing her to her knees when she’s already kneeling? That was no fun and the damned girl seemed to have taken away the fun even before the game began.

I lifted my gaze to her face and saw creased lines on her brow, she appeared troubled and her thoughts didn’t seem to helping.

And her mind was sort of elsewhere, because she didn’t see me looking, until she did,

With a questioning raised eyebrow, she asked,

"Are you going to stare at me all day or are you going to tell me why you made it sound urgent with your text last night?"

I smiled. Apparently, the bitch was still in there. She might not seem sure of herself, but someone like Sofia barely allows a lapse of her emotions reflect twice.

Gone was her wack stance, her brow smoothed to porcelain glibness and her eyes radiated with the wit that was lacking before.

"But what was she talking about? Did my text really sound urgent?" I thought.

Forcing myself to recall my exact words,

"I want to see you at exactly 12 pm tomorrow, don’t be late and you better have made a decision"

And denounced that it only sounded urgent, but it kinda reeked with desperation. God! How could I have decided to text her when I was intoxicated? I really should have let Vera do it.

For most, they won’t be able to read the urgency and sheer desperation contained within those lines, but Sofia had done it. It pissed me off, but it also affirmed to me that she was indeed the perfect choice for a PA. She was meticulous in a way none of my past PAs ever were.

The last thing I needed was to let her believe that I needed her. Such mishap could jeopardize the whole thing, it could lead her to believe that she has a bargaining chip, if it hasn’t already.

Hoping it hasn’t, I amended, being truthful,

"Oh that," I shrugged, waving it off, "I was kinda bung fu when I went you that text, I didn’t mean to sou..."

"Bung fu?" She questioned, cutting me off.

I wasn’t used to people interjecting on my speech, it was an insult. And it vexed me beyond words. But if the selection process was going to be a success, I needed someone who wasn’t afraid to talk over me. Or cut in when confused.

But really the bitch could have allowed me finish. Flexing my taut muscles, I forced myself to remember that I needed this bitch and whatever I did, she couldn’t be led to believe that I do.