A Year with The Billionaire

Biting my lower lip softly and watching the image of my boss on my laptop and other details about him, I twirl my chair around my little office with a sigh of frustration. As much as I want to give Juliet's advice a try, I am damn scared.

Scared of my boss. Scared of what he would think of me. Scared that he would insult me again today like he did yesterday when he scolded me for being clumsy. But I need to give it a try. I need his help. I want my grandmother to live, I want her to witness my white wedding and see me have kids who will keep her company while I am at work.

If I don't talk to my boss about the supposed help that I need, how can I make sure that grandma survives? Where will I get the money the doctor requested of us? Will grandma still be alive when I am eventually married four or five years from now?

I close my eyes, twirling my black straight hair and murmuring to myself in remembrance of the hot guy I met at the club Juliet and I went to last week. I thought I had eventually succeeded in landing myself a rich hot boyfriend until he asked me to give him a blowjob in the club.

Gosh!

I was so embarrassed. I thought that was all and I was excited about having my first sex but when he told me about how he enjoys sex, I knew I had to escape. He is a fucking sex maniac and he derives pleasure from beating a woman.

The ringing sound of the intercom jerks me out of my reverie. I twirl the swivel chair back and grab the intercom with a tone of professionalism.

With Jayden Alex Russell as my boss, I have learned to push back all my problems out of my mind whenever work is at hand. He hates unprofessionalism. He hates clumsy employees and sometimes, I used to wonder why I haven't been sacked yet.

"Ms. Romano,” his deep husky voice booms into the intercom, making me self-conscious of what I have been thinking.

"Yes, sir,” I sit upright and listen with rapt attention. I won't want to miss anything.

"Come to my office now,” he instructs sharply.

Before I can reply, he drops the phone and I do the same, taking in sharp breaths to calm my nerves and make me summon up the courage to bring up my problem when I am eventually inside his office.

I just hope he is in a good mood. I will put Juliet's advice to good use today and that will determine the next line of action. If he doesn't help me, then I will have no choice but to go look for Frederick Alberto, the man who derives pleasure from hurting a woman.

I exit my office, striding at a fast pace toward my boss's office. I had gone to serve his coffee an hour ago and he didn't even spare me a glance. I wonder why he is requesting my presence now. He always tells me all that I need to do on the phone unless it is important.

I knock softly on the door, waiting with my heart thumping hard.

He echoes a "Yes?" and I go in.

I see him writing on a plain sheet of paper and his laptop is open in front of him. He looks busy. I know him to be someone who doesn't like to be disturbed when busy.

What does he want?

"I'm here, sir,” I tell him, making him raise his head to look at me.

"Sit!" He commands and I flop to the chair opposite his large desk piled with numerous paperwork. He stares at me deeply with a harsh glare. "Adrian Peterson has sent an email and you didn't inform me about it.”

I swallow a lump, scolding myself mentally for wasting my time looking at his information on the internet instead of starting work. I have missed the emails.

"I checked the mail before leaving work on Saturday, I guess it just came in this morning,” I reply with my hands shaking on my lap. They are sweaty as a result of my nervousness.

He doesn't look convinced. "Haven't you been in your office?"

"I have."

"What have you been doing, then?" He asks calmly.

I am surprised he isn't shouting at me today like the rest of the days. Is this a good sign? Should I go on with letting him know about my problems?

"Take this,” he pushes a file towards me and I take it. "Check the mail, before you work on this file. I want you to arrange them alphabetically, and reply to his mail before returning this file. I will need them before noon."

"Ok, sir", I say obediently, taking the file from him.

"Good," he nods. "You can go."

I nod my head and stand up, biting my lips and debating within me on whether to tell him about my problem or leave it till later when I am done with my first task for the day.

"What? Why are you still here?" He has the pen in his hands already while he gazes up at me.

I shake my head, losing my confidence. "I'm sorry."

"Wait," he orders with implacable authority, making me halt in my step and close my eyes. I am trying to build my confidence and courage.

I need to do this. Grandma needs this.

I turn back and bow my head. "There is something I need to tell you, sir."

Silence falls. He isn't saying anything and it makes me look up. Why is he silent? He is just watching me with his two hands below his jaw.

I decide to continue. "Hmmm…I need a favor sir," I stammer, fidgeting with my fingers. “My grandma needs to be operated on because of her legs. The doctor wants me to deposit some money_"

"What do you want?" He cuts me short in impatience.

I exhale deeply and mutter a prayer under my breath before saying. "We need $250,000 for the surgery. I want to request a loan from the company and I will pay it back with my salary."

He looks surprised and I wonder if he will help. "You want us to pay you a year's salary in advance?"

Reality crashes on me. I didn't even calculate it. My grandma's salary will cost me a year's salary?

Wow!

I nod meekly.

He leans back in his chair, looking thoughtful for a while and watching me intensely. His gaze pierces deep into me and I look away, scared that interlocking eyes with him will make him not to help me.

My heartbeat increased in anticipation. The silence is killing me. Is he going to help or not? He should just say something, is it a yes or a no?

Whatever it is that he will say, I am going to take it the good way, it is not the end of the world. I am just going to resort to the last option.

Becoming Frederick's slut.

"I will help you," he announce, making my heart skip a beat and my mouth drop open in surprise.

Relief washes through me suddenly and I almost kneel in sincere appreciation.

God bless you! I pray within myself.

"Thank you, sir," I cry out in excitement as my face breaks into a smile. "Thank you so much, sir. God bless_"

"But there is a condition attached," he interrupts me with a face devoid of emotions.

A condition? What condition? I ask within me as a frown touches my lips.

My heart begins to race again. Pounding wildly in my chest as if it will soon burst out.

"I want you to become my wife," he blurts out, without a change in his countenance.

It takes a while before his statement sinks deeply into my system in understanding. When it is fully absorbed, I exclaim loudly in disbelief and with mouth agape. "What?!"

"Yes," he nods intermittently, "but it is going to be for just a year."

"What?!"

It's been two years already. Two f***ing years of torture. Two years since she died with my baby. I have been through the phase of remembering the memories of the night we spent together and what led to our quarrel before death took her away. It's been nothing but pure torture and hatred for myself and what I represent.

I still blame myself for her death.

If only I had listened to her, if only I had given up on the dangerous family business like she used to call it, maybe this wouldn't have happened and we would still be together with our child.

But I didn't. I was too stubborn to let go of the life I have been brought up into. My Father was the Mafia Leader. I was trained to become one too but Helena was in the way.

She hated what we do with passion. She wanted me to cut ties with anything that will make me go into it. It was hard for me. I loved what we did. I loved being in control. I loved punishing the offenders.

Helena hated it till death.

Now I have abandoned every single thing that reminds me of her as well as cutting ties with my ever busy father. He understands my plight and we haven't spoken in more than a year.

Mother on the other hand has been pestering me about getting a wife and a grandchild. Helena and I didn't make it to the altar and I doubted if I could ever love another woman as I do love her.

Ever since she died, love scares me and it has been erased from my dictionary. In fact, commitment means nothing to me. I hate the word.

Mother keeps pestering me and I want to prove to her that marriage or having kids isn't for me. They will be an object of target to my rivals and enemies. I hate to go through another tough phase of losing loved ones.

I am done. But I will satisfy her by getting married to someone, then we would be divorced after a year.

This was my predicament last night after a video call with her. But the problem was who to tell, who to discuss this with, and who to take as a wife.

I told my friend, Gabriel and we have plans to go to a club tonight. Gabriel is married and he is in support of me getting married too by letting go of the past.

But is it that easy? Yes, it is.

I have let go totally but I would never believe in love, I would never be committed and I would never be married on my own free will.

As soon as Isabella with her long straight black hair and vivid blue eyes entered and began to stutter about her problems, I decided to use her problems to my advantage.

She needs my help and I need hers too. I expect her to understand. In fact, I am glad she is someone I can control. I am glad I don't need to go out in desperate search of a woman that I know absolutely nothing about.

Isabella is a striking-looking girl who is exceptional in her work. The only thing I hate about her that pisses me off is her clumsiness and I hope we can work together to make sure the marriage I am proposing to her looks real and then after a year, we would go our separate ways.

A year is enough to stop my mother from pestering me further. It is enough to prove a point to her. I don't need a woman in my life. I am good this way. But she doesn't understand that. She thinks I am still hurting from the death of Helena and our child, Susie. But I am not. I have healed from the hurt.

Isn't two years enough to heal from your wounds? Isn't it enough to make the scar oblivion like it never existed?

Time heals all wounds. I believe this and time has healed mine.

"What?!" She exclaims again, this time more loudly.

I watch her blue eyes piercing deep into me like she wants to read through me and know what I have in mind and why I am proposing this.

"Yes. Sit down!" I instruct sharply.

She blinks and rushes over to sit. I can see her hands trembling and her eyes turning red in anxiety.

I lean backward, watching and thinking of how it would be a success after a year. I know how calm Isabella can be and I'm sure we can pull this through.

"Are you calm now?" I demand impatiently and she nods vigorously.

"Good," I lean forward.

She takes a large gulp and drops her hands to her lap.

"This is going to be a contract marriage. I want you to be my wife for just a year. After a year, I will pay you an additional money and you can leave. In total, I will pay you $500,000- the first $250,000 will be as soon as the contract is signed and the next $250,000 will be after the marriage is over," I explain, expecting her to jump up in excitement that she will be free after a year and I will pay her handsomely.

But she isn't doing that. She looks scared. She looks like someone who is about to cry. She doesn't look excited about the idea of getting married to me in secrecy for a reason known to me alone and getting paid for doing that.

I sigh. "Do you understand?"

She shakes her head and a tear drops. I furrow my brows.

What the hell is this? Why the hell is she crying?

Anger courses through me and I am thinking of dismissing her when she raises her eyes to stare at me.

"Marriage? Why? Why me?" she wipes her tears with the tip of her fingers.

"Are you in or not? Stop interrogating me!" I reply harshly.

I already said it is a contract marriage and it means a contract will be drawn for this purpose. She can go through the rules and regulations guiding the contract and if she isn't satisfied with any of them, she can inform me or decide not to do it.

What is the big deal anyway?

I am doing her a huge favor here and she ought to be grateful. Why is she behaving as if I am punishing her?

She shakes her head and my brows crease further in confusion.

"I'm sorry, sir," she apologizes for no reason. "I can't do that."

"Why?" I question with a frown on my face.

Why the hell is she rejecting an awesome offer like this? Does she even know what it means to get this huge money for just a year's job?

"I just can't," she sobs. "I can't get married if you need a contract_"

I begin to laugh, interrupting her from going further.

She can't marry me based on a contract? She wants to marry me because of what then?

Anger fills me up again and I slam my fist on the desk, making her bolt upright. I ball my fist and watch her with a deadly look.

I regret putting this to her. I shouldn't have told her. I should have just stuck with the initial plan of going to a club with Gabriel later tonight or asking his wife to help me get one of her friends to be my wife for just a year.

"You know what?" I ask pointedly with a serious face. My hands shake in anger.

She bows her head, not wanting to look me in the face.

"Forget I said all of that," I say to her. "get out!"

She hoists her head with disbelief skating her expression.

"Get out!" I hell, making her scurry to the door. She stands there for a while as if contemplating what to do with my offer. Before I can shout at her once more to leave, she dashes out.