Billionaire’s

1counted the numbers in my head while lying on the picnic blanket, watching the sky and trying to listen to the wind. I raised my arm and glanced at my watch. Is she coming? I’ve been waiting here for almost half an hour. What could have happened now!

I rested my arm back down and let out a sigh. Tomorrow, I would meet Abigail’s cousin. I’ve been contemplating any decision for a few days now. Yesterday, Uncle Robert, Mama’s brother, called and informed me that a lawyer had opened a case regarding my father, as told by his police friend.

da Before I could even fully process it, Abigail’s cousin took action–what was his name again?

“Sorry, Ale, I’m late,” Zera said breathlessly as she approached me. She was my cousin, three years younger than me. She sat beside me, looking at my face and playfully poking my check. “Are you mad?”

“No,” I replied, getting up and sitting facing her.

She smiled widely, revealing her teeth, and placed her backpack on her lap. Every time she smiled, she looked beautiful, and I couldn’t help but be affected by her radiant smile. Her brown eyes sparkled as she took something out of her bag. Every Monday, I would meet my cousin. She was my second closest friend, and we had a special bond, though not as close as the one I shared with Abigail.

I returned to our province, to their house, since we had sold our family land when I moved to the city with Mama. I missed the tranquility and the fresh air, especially the part of the field that used to belong to our family. I was glad that UncleRobert. Zera’s father, had bought our land. The forest leading to the river was not far from where we were now.

“How’s work?” I asked as she took out a drawing book. It was new and appeared to be handmade.

She handed it to me. “It’s a gift for you, since I forgot to give it to you last week.”

“You know I can afford to buy this myself, I hesitated, unsure if I should accept it

She pushed the book towards me. “I made it specifically for you. It means a lot to me if you accept it.”

“Why are you giving me this?” I asked, puzzled, as I took the drawing book and ran my fingers over the leather cover. Zera loved creating things that interested her, but it was the first time she had given me something like this.

“Look inside,” she said excitedly, and I did as she suggested.

The paper was homemade, with a rough yet smooth and thick texture. “I like the texture. How did you make this?”

“It interested me, and I think I love creating things like this. What do you think! Is it good for sketching and painting?”

“Yes, it’s pure fiber with cotton, right?”

Zera nodded, a smile spreading across her face.

“Wow! Very creative of you,” I said with a smile, and she waved her hand dismissively as if it was nothing

“I’m glad you liked it. And now, you need to sketch me using it. Show me the end result next week,” she said happily

1 smiled and reached for my sketching materials inside my shoulder bag, ready to start drawing

I couldn’t help but miss the days when my father used to do this, painting portraits of me and my mother. I missed my mother’s laughter. If only my father hadn’t been falsely accused.

Then, my life won’t end this way, and agreed at something that I was hesitating after now.

I hurriedly entered the restaurant, sweat forming on my forehead and my breath coming out in short gasps.

If the client hadn’t requested the painting to be delivered today, I wouldn’t have been five minutes late.

I prayed that Abigail’s cousin, was still here and hadn’t left in anger, thinking that I didn’t show up

I ran all the way here since the client’s apartment was close to the restaurant. But in reality, it was still quite a distance.

I noticed him sitting at a table near the counter, his brows furrowed and impatience evident as he tapped his fingers on the table, staring outside. “I’m so sorry,” I pansed as I sat down in the chair opposite him.

He flinched when he realized I was there, and his eyes darkened. “Why did it take you so long to be here?” he asked his voice filled with anger

“I had to deliver a painting for a client. It was urgent, something I didn

Tadmitted, reaching for the water on the table.

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“Can Huve dus one! I’m thirsty,” I asked him, seekin

seeking permission

He didn’t say anything, but looked at me expressionlessly as he nodded. “Here’s the agreement, he handed me the document

“Read it carefully before you sign,” he added, has voice tinged with annoyance that I couldn’t quite understapıl NôvelDrama.Org: owner of this content.

Perhaps he was annoyed because he had

Ebeen waiting for me impatiently

I took the folder and read the contract thoroughly. It wasn’t had, and I didn’t expect that I would be able to see the child the way I wanted, albeit with certain conditions according to him.

I had anticipated that he wouldn’t even allow me to see the child. He wasn’t as terrible as I had assumed. Abigail was right when she sand so

I signed the agreement and said, “Done!” Itur I couldn’t bring myself to

!!

He took the folder, then glanced at his watch before looking at me. “You can order whatever you want, it’s all paid for,” he said, standing up from hài seat. “We are done today,” he added, nodding at me, and then left.

He was so cokl Did he really dislike women that much!

I shook my head, and stood up as well. Since I wasn’t accustomed in dining in expensive restaurants, it made me feel out of place. I couldn’t help but notice how classy and elegant the other customers looked compared to me.

Ich the rests

“Yes, why?” I asked, puzzled by his gaze

restaurant and hailed a taxi. However, a manager from the restaurant approached me. “Miss, are you Miss Damer?”

“Mr. Del Aviro paid for everything for your mural, assuring us

us that we will serve

serve you our best, he said.

“I didn’t plan on eating, and you can

return the bill he paid to him.” I said with a smule.

“But Miss, he is expecting us to serve you a meal. It’s not just a simple expectation, but an order,” he explained, a hint of concern in his voice. “Why can’t you lie and say that I ate? He won’t know, right?” I said, my brows furrowing as I pondered my response. Why was he doing that? I was becoming more perplexed by the moment.

e pleaded.

“Del Aviro owns this restaurant, so we can’t lie, Miss Damet. If you could please go back and have your lunch, he j

I wanted to be annoyed, especially since I had an important design that needed to be finished today. Besides. I wouldn’t enjoy my food rating in that expensive restaurant,

But seeing the manager’s anxiety. I couldn’t do anything but go back inside. They were simply following their boss’s orders–would he fire them if they didn’t comply?

Was this his plan to annoy me, just as I had annoyed him by making him wait? Abigail must have told him about the things I disliked, all the information he had asked from me, as Abigail had told me.

In the end, I didn’t enjoy the food much. I felt the glances of some customers directed at me, as if I were a starving beggar amidst the wide array of dishes.

I got home, I texted Abigail

I hate your cousin, I mean it. Abi. I inserted five angry emoticons.

I sat on the couch and glanced at the leftovers from the restaurant that I had brought home, packed neatly.

That was embarrassing! I couldn’t even say no. It made me want to erupt in anger

I was sure that this was the order of Abigail’s cousin, that despicable person.

I let out a sighs and leaned back against the couch, closing my eyes slightly from the overwhelming fatigue I felt.

Then, I remembered that we hadn’t discussed something important–how I would get pregnant. Maybe it was through IVE

My phone rang, and I lazily reached for it still half–asleep. It could be the client calling. “Hello, Mrs. Rosas-

I snapped my eyes open upon hearing the voice and looked at the caller. It was an unknown number, but the voice was all too familiar

And I gasped, realizing it was Steven.

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Steven Monravel.

The person I secretly had feelings for, but I couldn’t admit or accept his affection seven years ago because our s

His family was wealthy, while mine was not.

Why was he calling me now after seven years?