Billionaire Daredevil In Love

NADINE.

Throughout that day, I was in a contemplative mood. I thought about Anna and the ordeal that lay in front of her. I felt so sorry for her; she was too young and did not deserve to experience such a grueling trial. But life was not fair. I remembered that I had some money in my bank account, and if Naomi could access it, she could get some and use it for the meantime. At least, until we find something else to do.

Later that day, I tried to engross myself in the crime novel when the butler came in. I had a call from Naomi, he said.

"Hey, Naomi," I said. "What's up?"

"Hi, Nadine," she said, her voice flat. I knew something was up.

"Something happened?" I asked. "You sound so dull."

"Ohh? I'm sorry," I could tell she was making a deliberate effort to not sound somber. "I've just been tired."

"No problem," I said. "So how did the trip to the hospital go?"

"Well..." She said, "Erm, we might have a little problem."

I sat up, my heart beginning to race.

"Did something happen? How is Anna, is she okay?" I asked.

"Yeah, she's fine," she said. "At least for now."

"So what?" I asked.

"You see, remember I told you we were going to need a shitload of money for Anna's treatment," she began, "well, that's what is. The bill for her medication and hospitalization cost up to ten thousand dollars per month. And she's going to need steady and uninterrupted treatment for the next six months, which sums up to-"

"Sixty thousand dollars," I said, completing it. The money felt like an unseen weight in my hands. I had never made up to a tiny fraction of that money in my life, or seen it. I think at that time, the closest I had come to such an amount was the money I tried to steal from Clayton.

"Yeah," Naomi said. "So that's a problem."

"Oh, fuck," I said, more to myself than to Naomi. I buried my face in my free hand.

"What are we going to do, Nadine?" She asked me.

"I don't know, honestly," I said. "I am so confused. Where am I going to get that amount of money?"

There was a long silence, and I kept racking my brain. I knew that I had about seven hundred dollars in my bank account, an amount I had been saving up to help with unforeseen circumstances, but compared to the sixty thousand dollars it was nothing. Even when compared to the monthly ten thousand dollars, it still paled in comparison.

"I have a bit of money, though," I told Naomi. "In a bank account. When you go home, there's a drawer near my bed, you'll find the details there."

"Ohh, okay," she said. "How much money is it?"

"It's... nothing," I said with my eyes shut. "Just a little something to help while we try to figure out this mess."

"I see," she said.

When we had talked and the butler had left, I lay face down and screamed into the pillow. I could not cry, tears were useless, they could not turn into money. So I just screamed until I was tired. I considered all the ways that I could get money, but all of them seemed foolish. Perhaps if I was outside, it would have been easier, but I was entirely powerless inside there.

It was late in the evening when an idea flashed through my mind - Clayton. That was it, I could ask Clayton.

*

It was a difficult decision to reach, because I detested the bastard. He had had me locked up for so long, and had also assaulted me. But I did not have that much of a choice; Anna's life depended on how well I played the cards that were spread before me. Later that evening, when the butler brought in my dinner, I decided to ask him.

"Hey, I want to speak with Clayton," I told him.

He gave me a puzzled look.

"I'm not sure the boss would like to see you," he said as he poured me a glass of wine. "He has been in quite a bad mood this past few days."

"I know," I told him. "But this is urgent. I need to talk to him."

"Mmm, I see," he said indifferently.

"You're gonna speak to him for me?" I asked.

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"I'll try," he said. "But I make no promises. I do not like to come under the ire of Mr. Clayton."

"I know," I replied. "Please, do your best. A life is at stake here."

He nodded and then left the room.

I said a little prayer before I ate the meal, hoping that Clayton would at least agree to see me.

Clayton:

I hadn't been to work in days as I was taking my time to shed off the stress. I also did not leave the house. I planned to go to work the next day after my secretary called me and told me about an urgent meeting. I heard a knock at the door and knew it was the butler. I had requested for some white wine; white wine helped me relax and I needed it to get ready for work the next day.

"Come on in," I said and he opened the door and strode inside, the wine and a champagne flute in his hands.

He poured me the wine and as I sipped, he watched. I wondered why he lingered.

"Sir, Nadine has requested to see you," he said as I emptied the glass.

"Nadine, you say," I said. "See me for what?"

I was still smarting from that embarrassment so hearing her name still did not sit well with me.

"She has a few challenges, and would like to discuss them with you, sir," he said.

"I see," I told him. "Well, next time you attend to her, tell her that I'll come see her only when I want. I give the fucking orders around here, not her, not you, not anybody."