My Billionaire Forgive my Unexpected Revelation

"Why me? Why?!" she screamed at Mr. Alex, wondering what he was thinking. "Why do I have to listen to you, and you never need to ask me what I want?"

She continued facing Mr. Alex.

"Daddy, just this once," she exclaimed as she knelt on the floor, her head against her father's feet. "I will obey you forever. Anything you want me to do, I will do it all," Margaret said as she lifted her face to Mr. Alex, but he turned away, unwilling to budge.

She stood up and went toward Mrs. Karen's seat. "Mom, please talk to your husband. Talk to Daddy. Maybe he will listen to you," she pleaded.

"Margret, you need to understand where your daddy is coming from. Don't be selfish. We need you to marry him. Please make this little sacrifice for our sake," Mrs. Karen said, looking into her daughter's eyes filled with hope. Her daughter understood.

"Did you just say sacrifice?! What do you know about sacrifice? Huh, all my life, you've chosen for me, everything! For heaven's sake, everything! Or maybe you've forgotten. I can list them, including my high school, career, and job. You've gone as far as choosing the clothes I should wear, And now my spouse?" she replied to Mrs. Karen. As all the anger made its way to her throat, she immediately started crying.

"And here you are talking about sacrifice. What do you know, sacrifice, huh?" Margaret retorted while sobbing.

She stood up and dusted off her knees.

"No," this time around with no single emotion, "I won't marry him, and that's final." She walked out and banged the door at them.

"Did you just see how she behaved?" he asked, turning to Mrs. Karen, pointing toward the door. I don't know what's wrong with these kids nowadays," he said, looking confused as to why she could be acting like that. What's wrong with her? We will not tolerate that behavior in this house."

***

Margaret walked into her room, but it was as though she didn't belong There. She closed her eyes and imagined not being part of such a terrible family. The family was a nightmare for her, and she was hoping someone would wake her up, as she had had enough of the dream. The hind in the door sounded.

"Who is it?" That was a reminder she was awake, and everything was real. She opened her eyes, and there was no response. It was Miss Whisker Doodle. She hopped on the bed and started licking her tears. It was as if she sensed something was wrong, something Margaret's parents saw and ignored. Miss Kitty began to meow. She turned to look at her, but the picture on the wall caught her attention. It was a picture of Mr. Victor and Margaret in high school. She stood up and went to where her work table was. She reached out to the last drawer, and all the letters she had written him were there. She started giggling as she read through them loudly.

"I'm jealous anytime I see you with Sandra, so stop talking with her."

Margaret picked another one, titled "A POEM FOR MY CRUSH."

"Every single day I walk past you, there's always things I want to say. I hope I get to say them soon" was followed by a heart-shaped drawing.

"What I say is to see you forever, so that way, I won't miss you as much as I do now." Margaret started blushing to herself. She continued.

"Every day, I always look forward to seeing you, but when I eventually see you, I am always nervous. When I walk closer to you, I always get butterflies in my tummy, and when I sit next to you, I can't help but wish this last forever. Victor and Margaret forever!" Their names were boldly written, covering the rest of the page. Tears rolled down her cheeks; Margaret couldn't help but continue crying, knowing fully well all this would forever be a dream, filled with regret because she always had the chance to give him the letters but chose not to. Her phone beeped. It was a message from Sandra, oh yes, the Sandra from her letter she didn't want to see Victor with, and they are now best friends.

"Hey, babes! Are you busy tonight?" Sandra asked while it still showed she was typing.

I wonder what prank she wanted to pull this time, Margaret thought.

"Guess what?"

"What?" Margaret typed, irritated and uninterested.

"That's why I said guess," replied Sandra with a hilarity Emoji.

"I'm not in the mood for all these games, so please go straight to the point."

"Girl, chill. It's not that deep," Sandra said, wondering what was wrong with Margaret.

"Do you want to come with me to the Hilton?"

"You mean The HILTON?"

"Girl, stop dreaming," she replied because getting in without an invitation is impossible. Hilton is a famous club that only celebrities and high-end individuals can access. In fact, you need an invitation before you can become a member. And for that to happen, you need to be influential in the community because even your money can't buy their invitation.

"How will we get in? Huh, or are you on to some black magic shit you aren't telling me about?

"I have the invitation." Sandra snapped.

"How did you get it?" Margaret replied.

"You shouldn't be asking all this now; they are unnecessary questions. What you should be asking is when you should be ready,? "Sandra got tired of Margaret's unnecessary questions.

"Girl, be for real, don't mess around with me." Margaret's patience wore thin.

As they chatted, a picture popped up. When Margaret opened her message, she gasped—it was the invitation.

"What time will it start? Margaret typed excitedly.

"10 pm," Sandra replied.

"Okay, see you later." Margaret stood up from her bed. Life just gave her another opportunity to show herself that she was approved, and she definitely would not disappoint herself, or the universe would give her a chance. She walked toward her closet and picked up a black dress; that dress had been waiting on this invitation. The dress was from Victor for her 25th birthday.

"If I can't marry him, I should at least get to wear it before my parents get me shipped to Alexandra Margaret mumbled to herself. "Staring at the dress.

After finishing her bath, she sat down, looked straight into the mirror, and smirked. She reached for her makeup brushes from the drawer. She knew these were the last days she would get to do what she wanted before marrying William. She stood up, went towards the window, and pushed it open. The smell of the wet ground from the rain and the breeze blew across her face. It was a sign from God, or at least that's how she took it.

She returned to where her makeup chair was and sat; her phone rang as she was getting ready. It was a message from Sandra.

"I'm downstairs."

"I will be down in 5 minutes," Margaret replied.

Margaret was ready, but something was missing in her appearance. She looked in the mirror, trying to figure out what it was.

"Something doesn't feel right," she said aloud.

It was her lip. She picked up a red lipstick from her table and applied it, giving her lip a glossy finish.

She was on her way out when her mum saw her on the stairs; she asked, "Where are you going?"

"I'm heading out," Margaret replied.

Mrs. Karen remarked, "Dressed like this?" Her tone was mixed with disapproval and concern.

"What's wrong with my dress?" Her expression suddenly turned sour, her tone tinged with defensiveness.

"OH MY GOD, babes, you look so beautiful." A voice said from behind her; it was her best friend's voice.

"Mummy, we got invited to this fantastic party. Can we go tonight? I will bring her back first thing tomorrow, please," Sandra pleaded, her eyes brimming with a mix of excitement and hope.

"The first thing I want to see is Margaret returning to this house tomorrow. Okay?"

"OKAY, Mrs. Karen," Sandra replied excitedly.

A sleek Benz parked before them as they walked out, and the windows smoothly rolled down. It was the voice of a guy.

"Are you ready?"

Ethan stepped out of the car, extending his arms for a hug. "Hey, Maggie, how have you been?"

“Great,“ she replied. “ça fait longtemps que je t’ai vu.“

“Ouais, tu m’as manqué?“ he asked with a smile.

"Ah, oui, bien sûr, " she responded, returning the smile.

"When did you return from France? " Margret inquired.

"Last week, " Ethan replied.

"I hope you'll stay back this time, "Margret said playfully.

“Bien sûr,“ he assured her.

Sandra interrupted, "Enough of the French. Let's go and have fun. "

***

As they arrived at The HILTON, Margaret couldn't believe her eyes. The once-familiar sight had transformed. It looked like something straight out of a movie—stunning. As their car stopped, a dapper gentleman in a black suit approached and opened the door gracefully.

"This way, " he said, guiding them toward the entrance.

At the doorway, they gave their invite to the door attendant, who handed them each a mask in return. Margret was puzzled. "Why are we being given masks? "

The door attendant responded, "The mask will grant you a new primal freedom." Margaret soon realized everyone was putting on one.

"Okay, thanks, " Margaret muttered as she walked away.

As they stepped inside the venue, they were even more stunned by its beauty—the architecture and the elegance of everyone around. Margaret stood on the stairs while the crowd had already pulled Sandra away. Right before she was Beyoncé performing live on stage, she was still trying to wrap her head around the fact that she had just seen Beyoncé's live performance.

Suddenly, Mrs. Vanderbilt took the stage, her presence commanding attention with the clink of her champagne glass. "I am Arabella Vanderbilt ".

She's the daughter of Billionaire Vanderbilt, the owner of the HM cosmetic brand.

"Tonight, " she continued, her voice carrying a hint of excitement, "these masks will grant you a newfound freedom, just as God has created other gods before at the beginning of time. Tonight, these masks will grant you the freedom to find your love and guide you to forge connections."

Mrs. Vanderbilt's words hung in the air, her gaze sweeping across the room, ensuring her message resonated with each present. "Feel free to explore your hearts, discover each other's charms and inner beauty, and fall in love. Ensure your heart leaves with the right person today. " She concluded, her voice soft yet commanding, "Now I would like to welcome you all to the hunt for love. "

Almost immediately, the ambiance changed. Music played, conversations buzzed, laughter filled the air, and everyone scouted for potential panthers to dance with.

In the corner, three men gathered, their eyes scanning the room. Suddenly, one of them broke the silence and pointed towards Margaret, a blonde beacon in the crowd.

"Do you see the blonde lady? I want to talk with her, " he remarked eagerly.

"Hey, sexy, " he greeted Margaret.

Margret's response was a glance at him, her eyes flickering towards the whisper and giggles from his companions across the room. They were murmuring something and pointing towards her.

Margaret's silence spoke volumes. She looked at him without uttering a word, conveying her disinterest. Seeing she wasn't responding, he apologized before retreating.

With a sigh, he took a dance of shame back to his friends, who teased him, "Come back, it's not that easy. You need to be more gentle next time, " they egged him on, playfully pushing him forward.

They urged another to step up to the challenge, "You go try, " pushing him towards Margret.

He responded confidently, signaling for his friends to watch and learn. With a mixture of nerves and determination, he approached Margaret, his heart pounding.

"Would you like to dance with me? " he asked, his tone hopeful.

"Next time, " she responded as she turned her back on him.

"Would you like to dance with me? " he asked, this time more persistently.

Just as he reached out to gasp her hand, another figure intervened, gently restraining him. "She's with me. Is there a problem? " he calmly asked.

"My bad, I didn't realize you were together, " he admitted, acknowledging his mistake as he walked away.

Margret turned to thank him, but her attention was captured by the figure standing in front of her, which resembled a god in her eyes.

"Hey, I'm Alexandra, " he introduced himself, extending his hand for a handshake.

"it seems like you are a lonely hunter. " she observed.

"I've only ever hunted online, so this is quite the reality check for me, "he confessed.

Margret responded confidently, "I can help you out. "

Their eyes locked as she pulled him towards the dance floor with assurance.

As they stepped onto the dance floor, Margaret touched his chest, guiding their movement naturally. She circled him, her fingers lingering near his lips, capturing his full attention.

Amidst the crowd's cheers, Margret seized the moment, taking the spotlight. With a deliberate and seductive gesture, she intentionally dropped her earring, bending provocatively to pick it up.

In a heartbeat of suspense, she leaned in for a kiss, but instead, she gently pushed him off the stage with a subtle yet decisive gesture.

A concerned voice interrupted Alexandra. "Are you alright? " the woman asked, her worry evident.

Meanwhile, Margaret returned to the stage, commanding attention as she resumed her dance. However, the other woman joined in, trying to compete with Margaret. She soon realized she couldn't outshine Margaret's impeccable skill, so she stepped down from the stage.

With all eyes now fixed on her, Margret gracefully exited the stage; she headed towards the bathroom to touch up her makeup, leaving those around her captivated and intrigued.

Margaret approached the pool table, where laughter and chatter filled the air. She picked up a cue stick and joined the game as Alexandra pointed out a short.

"Did you see that? Good luck. " he said, gesturing towards the table.

Margret sat on the rail. The slit exposed her soft, feminine legs and expensive shoes as she sat. With precision, she executed her shot, earning applause from the onlookers.

"Nice one! " they cheered.

Alexandra offered her a high five, impressed. "Nice shot. I didn't expect you to be so good at this. You're full of surprises.

You are much more than just a good dancer. Are you in the industry or..."

Margret cut him off with a coy smile. "I'm not in that line of work. "

"What do you do, then?" he pressed.

"We should go; it's getting relatively warm here," Margaret suggested, leading the way to a quieter corner away from the crowd.

"I think it's cool enough right here," Alexandra countered playfully, but one of the servers interrupted them before Margaret could respond.

"Apologies for the interruption, but Mrs. Vanderbilt is back on stage, "the server informed them.

Mrs. Vanderbilt's voice carried across the room as she addressed everyone. "Did everyone have a good time? "she asked, met with a chorus of agreement.

"I'm happy to hear that," she continued warmly. "And did anyone catch your eyes tonight? "

A collective murmur of agreement rippled through the crowd. "I can only imagine how dreadfully uncomfortable that mask must feel," Mrs. Vanderbilt sympathized. "Now, we will proceed with the final event tonight. When I call your name, please remove your mask and reveal your face. "

The room erupted into applause as excitement filled the air. "And remember, "Mrs. Vanderbilt added, "feel free to seek out the person who caught your interest and continue your conversation. "

As names were called and masks removed, Margaret rose from her seat, slipping away unnoticed. Alexandra followed suit, her steps determined. "Where are you going?" He asked, trailing after her.

"That's none of your business," Margret retorted, her tone unwavering.

"I want to get to know you better," he persisted.

Margaret fixed him with a steady gaze. "Can't you see I'm not interested? If I were, I wouldn't be leaving now. So, if you don't mind, please excuse me," she stated firmly before turning and walking away.