PickyBillionaire
1713 Words
HOUSE OF MOORE EMPIRE
The CEO of the House Of Moore office on the top floor of the building was a study in power and precision. The space was wrapped in floor-to-ceiling glass and offered a commanding city view. His space exuded refined dominance. The windows were equipped with custom bright tint glass that turns nontransparent at a voice command for complete privacy. The flooring was a dark Italian Marble, cool and polished to perfection. A massive ebony wood desk sat at the center with a crystal paperweight engraved with the Moore family crest. Behind it stood a high-backed black leather chair. It was more like a throne seat. To the side was a built-in shelf with books, arts, and modern architectural materials from the House of Moore, the empire he'd built and redefined. An automated fragrance diffuser filled the room with the faint scent of cedarwood and patchouli—masculine, grounding, and unforgettable.
Every inch of the space whispered a strong message. It wasn't just an office but a place where power, discipline, and legacy lived.
Khloe stormed into the space, her heels making an unmistakable sound on the polished floor, revealing her furious intention. “Bryson! Bryson! Bryson!”
Bryson stares at the chart, unflinchingly, barely looking up from the tablet in his hand.
“Bryson Moore! Can you please try to behave like a human being today?!” Khloe’s voice thundered as she dropped her designer bag on the desk. “Those women have been out there for hours waiting for you! What if I didn't show up?”
Bryson's fingers swiped through the tablet, utterly unfazed by the tension simmering before him.
“Bryson, I am talking to you!”
“I don't need to behave. I need to make sure no woman ends up carrying my child for the wrong reasons. Maybe this is a bad idea.” He said in a cold tone.
Khloe exhaled, counting one to twenty like her husband had taught her, even though she was about to lose her temper. It had been almost two weeks since they'd been trying to find a surrogate mother for her brother. She had taken time off from work, called in favors, and assembled a list of bright, beautiful, and willing women who were all medically cleaned, cleared, and emotionally stable. This was supposed to be simple since she had put everything in place, but her stone-headed, cold-hearted brother has been hell-bent on frustrating her efforts.
“Did you just say this is a bad idea? You chose this over marrying some socialite or having a trophy wife. This is supposed to be simple, Bryson. If you choose someone, we will move past this stage. Two weeks is all you have left.”
Bryson looked up at his sister, Khloe, who looked tired. He sighed, “Alright. You're right. So what are we doing today?”
Khloe rolled her eyes. “Meeting women.” She grabbed her bag and moved to the right side of the room, where there was a private conference room with a twelve-seat matte black marble table, state-of-the-art presentation screens, and soundproof walls for high-level negotiations that required silence from the outside world.
“Alexa, tell Linda we are ready.” Khloe used the voice command device.
The door opened, and Linda, Bryson’s assistant, ushered in a brunette woman named Sophia. She looked sophisticated, dressed in a black gown, gloves on her hands, and heels.
“Good morning, Mr Moore.” she greeted sweetly.
Bryson didn't respond. He stared at her silently until Khloe responded to her greeting.
“Why do you choose to use use your womb as a money-making machine?”
“Excuse me?” Sophia’s forehead creased, feeling offended.
“You're dismissed.”
“What?” Sophia's jaw dropped as she looked at Khloe
“Bryson!” Khloe gritted, clutching her fists.
“Alexa, Next!” Bryson commanded.
Sophia stood up, looking angry. “You jerk! How dare you insult me? Cause you're rich?! You will never find anyone to tolerate you!”
“Leave, or I'll call security.”
Sophia walked out of the office, almost bumping into the next candidate. Diana looked elegant and beautiful. Bryson looked at her file; it was clean and clear, and she came from a strong medical background.
“Hello, Mr Moore, nice office space. And you look nice and good-looking in suits. It would be such an honor to help carry your child. I feel fortunate.” Diana said with excitement in her tone as she settled in the chair facing Bryson directly.
Bryson didn't smile back. She's a talker. She passed off as an opportunist to him after studying her. “Why do you want to be a surrogate?” he asked
Diana gasped. “You have such a sweet voice!”
Bryson exchanged glances with Khloe. “Answer the question.”
“Oh! I love children! I love God and believe bringing life into the world is a blessing. You know, as the Bible implies, go into the world and multiply! I once worked at an orphanage, and the kids there loved me a lot.” she rattled on about her time, duties, and whatnot at the orphanage. “And honestly, it'd be a great source of joy for me to carry the child for a wealthy, Good-looking man doing a great thing in the business world!”
“You mean someone who can afford to pay more than you expected,” Bryson stated with a furrowed eyebrow.
Diana’s smile faltered. “No, don't get me wrong. But it won't be bad to get more, and you know—”
“Disqualified! You talk too much.”
Diana gasped. “What?”
“You are dismissed. Next!”
Diana stood up with a wounded look. “Well, good luck finding someone desperate enough to tolerate your rudeness and cockiness! Son of a b***h!”
“You are just angry you can't be her,” Bryson murmured as she stormed out.
The third, fourth, and sixth candidates came in, and there was still no progress. Each of them was a total turnoff for Bryson. The seventh candidate stepped in. She had a model frame and a seductive look, a sultry confidence that immediately signaled red flags even in Khloe’s head.
Bryson leaned back, watching her with a bored expression. “You are Ginger.”
“Yes, Mr Moore. And you look tempting.” Ginger moaned.
“Are you here to seduce me or carry my child?”
“Both. Mr Moore, I want everything. You, the baby—”
Bryson cuts in. “Too bad, you disgust me.”
Ginger stiffened. “What?”
“I can't have someone like you carry my child.” he turned to his sister. “Is this your idea of getting me a surrogate? A good one? Remind me never to trust you again.”
Khloe slammed her hand on the table. “You blame me? I have had enough! You are impossible to please! You do not get to be picky when you are the one who has refused to be responsible. You said you wanted someone clean, trustworthy, and decent. I brought you dozens of women, but you rejected all of them! What exactly do you want?”
“Yes, I am picky because I don't trust anyone who wants to be part of my life just for the money! I must settle the fee, but these women are money mongers. All they care about is the money and not the child.”
“Need I remind you that you're not marrying them? You are paying them to carry your child.”
“Exactly! How sure are you that they will leave willingly after the baby is born? Have you thought about that? And if I am going to put my legacy in some woman’s womb, I get to decide what I want. These women so far are not what I want.”
Ginger cleared her throat. “Well, I am still here. I can be anything—”
“Get out!” They choruses.
Ginger left the office at a close run.
“You know what? Do whatever pleases you. I'm done! I will be waiting to have your inheritance in my name.”
“Well, I'd rather lose my inheritance to you than gamble my legacy on the wrong woman.”
“Fine! Suit yourself!” Khloe moved to leave, but his words stopped her from getting on track.
“I can't do this alone, Khloe.” He muttered, pulling off his suit.
Khloe sighed as the tension between them sizzled. “I don't know how else to help you, Bryson. I am out of options,” she admitted.
Linda walked in. “Excuse me, sir. Your appointment with Doctor Benson is one hour long. He advised you to come early.”
“Alright, Linda, let him know I will be there.”
Khloe looked worried. “Are you okay, Bryson? Why are you still seeing Doctor Benson?”
“Nothing much. I asked him for a favor.”
“What favor?”
“I told him to look into finding me a surrogate or at least an egg donor through their fertility clinic.”
“That's a smart move. He should have more options. I understand how you feel, but we are running out of time.”
“I know Khloe. Don't worry; the universe will send me the right woman and not a good digger.”
“Well, I apologize. Today's options are a total turn-off.”
Bryson grabbed his suit. “So you know.” he chuckled.
“But honestly, I hope the universe won’t end up slamming you against the wall for being too picky.”
Bryson tried to smile at her, but she couldn't. “Come on, I will make it up to you. I promise.” He followed her into the elevator.
“Birkin Bag. The latest collection. All colors.” she stated.
“Your favorite color only.” he bargained.
“Good luck dealing with this all by yourself.”
“Khloe cut me some slack. I will get you three.”
“Deal. It was nice doing business with you.” she giggled.
- Writer
