A Wife for the Billionaire

" Are you alright, Sir?" Lanke, my driver asked with that weird accent of his.

" Of course I'm not" I had wanted to snap, but Lanke was one of those few persons I've come to respect. He was a black, advancing into his late fifties. Three years into the job, putting up with my outbursts, insults and demeaning attitude, I respected him unlike those young blood who always bailed a few months from the job.

The longest anyone of them had stayed was a year and six months before deciding that my attitude wasn't worth the pay. I never expected that I would ever come to like Lanke, one, he was older and doesn't get me at times and two, he has a weird accent which he claimed was because he was a Yoruban.

A tribe according to him in West Africa, Nigeria to be precise.

The truth was that I'm far from alright. How could I be when each second, minute, hour and day, feels like a countdown leading to the inevitable. I may not take my situation seriously in the presence of others, but deep down I was scared shit of dying.

I watched him look at me again through the rear mirror, his face a contour of worried lines and reminded myself that I was Richard Wellington and I hate pity. Lanke knew of my condition and that alone should be enough to fire him, but for some unfathomable reasons, I just couldn't.

"Lanke, what have I told you about that look?" I asked, catching him off guard.

"Uhm… Sorry Sir, as a father myself I…"

"Just wipe it off your face and keep your eyes on the road" I interjected, not in the mood for his overly concern.

With a forced smile, he muttered, "Yes Sir".

A pang of guilt thrummed through me and before it could spread to my cold heart, my phone rang.

The number wasn't one I recognized and as I wasn't in the mood for dealing with strangers or fans. I allowed it to continue vibrating. The urge to get high and simply float on the clouds of ecstasy tugged with desperation in my mind as the phone kept ringing. But I couldn't even do that since I was with Lanke, and he hated seeing me smoke. It's times like this that I miss my younger employees, especially Trey, who always got the good stuff.

After the second ring, I was curious about the voicemail that came after. So I punched on the button.

"Hello" it began in a feminine voice I didn't recognize, I almost dismissed it as one of those girls I had moved on from, but somehow was still stuck in the dream of getting me back, when it continued;

"This is Beck from Falling Stars Hotel, if this is Richard Wellington then Sir, a certain friends of yours, hold on a minute, Sir what do you say it's your name again" I felt the pause as if in that moment she had been holding the phone away from her mouth, a voice I would recognize anywhere grumbled in the background, "Chad Ramsey".

The voice mail continued, " Okay , so Sir your friend Chad Ramsey has been here for a few days now and he has accumulated quite a debt. His credit card has been maxed and according to him, you are the only one who can help him, so if you get this message don't hesitate to come save your friend."

" Fuck!" I yelled after the beep at the end of the voice mail.

I heard Lanke utter a curse in his dialect and the car screeched to a halt. Without even waiting for a go ahead order, he revised the car and sped towards the location. I couldn't have liked him more than I did at that moment, the guy knew me and how I never play with those I care about.

"Pick up. Pick up" I agitatedly spoke over the dialing tone.

"Why are you calling this early?", Aaron Wald grumpily said after the fourth ring.

"Hey Wald, it's Chad again. He's been held at Falling Stars for accumulation of debt. I'm already on my way there, could you get your ass there?"

"For heaven's sake, we warned Chad about that girl and now you're seeing it. How low love can hit a man, anyway though I have someplace I need to be, but I will be there…" I think he had meant to say more before the voice in the background asked "Baby, where are you going? You promised that you would be mine all day"

"Oh get over yourself Ella or is it Bella… what's that your name again?"

"It's Keila, actually" I heard a girl say and Aaron fly as he zipped himself before continuing,

"I know I hit that thing right, but is it really enough to start calling me 'baby'. And I have to ask 'are you dumb or just stupid?', thinking that I, Aaron Wald, was going to actually stay here with you all day especially after I have had my fill of you last night. In case you didn't get the clue, I just said that because I wanted to get in there." A chuckle, then there was a kiss, probably he had kissed her on the forehead before adding "You were exceptional darling, but Aaron Wald is always on the hunt for better. I will wire some money to your account, let it be my parting gift. Bye Leila"

" But Baby… Aaron… Baby" and a door banged shut, fading away her voice.

"Same old Wald" I thought, smiling to myself as I hit the end-call button.

I loved my friends, we had met at high school and years later we remain solid. We were sometimes called 'The Heartbreak Trio" by a certain news column. Others called us "BP's" (Billionaire Playboys), that was until Chad who according to his name and its usage in the internet slang, seduction community and incel slang. He was very handsome and tall. The kind of man whom women find sexually attractive and he had reveled in such attention. Dating more girls than Aaron and I combined until he met Zara.

Zara was an Indian model we met at one of the fashion shows. She had a skin that glowed and dark hair so rich and long that it touched her bulging butts. I had liked her the first time I saw her, hell, we all liked her and like every other time we all liked one girl at the same time. The challenge to see which of us would sway her was instigated.

I have never lost such a challenge, in fact, Chad and Wald suspected at the beginning that I would win, considering my charm, influence and looks, though they never voiced such concerns.

Zara proved to be very difficult. She was the kind of girl who knew just how beautiful she was and she flaunted her assets like a whip. Lashing out at anyone who came close. After three months of no progress, we gave up or I thought we all did. As a billionaire with such rakish reputation I hated for the news or gossip columns to carry something like;

"Billionaire Playboy, Richard Wellington fails to sweep Zara Vishwamitra, the Indian goddess, off her feet"

Or,

"Zara Vishwamitra chooses her career over dalliance. Oops, Richard."

Apparently, Chad never did let her go, somehow he had fallen for her more than the 'like' category and I don't really know if it was the consistency or the genuineness, but he got Zara. He got the girl we had failed to get.

Their love story trended for weeks, with headlines like,

"Billionaire Playboy, Chad Ramsey is smitten"

"Love arrests the cold heart of Chad Ramsey in the form of Zara Vishwamitra"

"It's a new dawn—Zara & Chad"

They even had hashtags like - #Chadra #Zarhad among the rest.

It lasted three years before Zara broke his heart. I really don't remember what happened, but it was after they had traveled to India–yeah it was that serious. Our boy came back two weeks earlier than expected, all teary and gloomy.

I think it was something about Zara's parents and family members not finding him worthy of upholding their traditions and customs or was it Zara, herself?

It's been three weeks now and my boy still hasn't gotten over her. He had stuck with gambling, drinking and clubbing away from dawn till dusk. To the extent that his card has been maxed. Thankfully it was one.

The modern skyscraper silver façade building of the famous 'Falling Stars Hotel' appeared into view, shimmering like the night sky under the morning light, startling me back to the present.

As Lanke pulled over, I promised myself again, "never ever to give a girl or love such power and effect over me."