The Tycoon’s Wild Card

Abandoned

Trish’s POV:

“Mom, where are you going?” I asked my mom, who stood beside the red car she loved so much.

She looked down at me, as if just realizing that she had a child. “Uh… a business trip, love.”

“I want to come with.”

“You can’t.” She said harshly, frowning down at me. “I’ll be back soon, don’t worry.” She added, and even though I was very young, I knew she wasn’t telling the truth.

I began to cry, but she quickly hushed me before moving me away from the car, stepping inside and driving away from our big house. That was the last I’d seen my mother.

I stood there, just outside the door to my father’s mansion, a mere six year old girl and cried till a maid came over and ushered me inside.

That was how my life had been growing up. Before my mom left, my dad was never around, and I thought to myself that perhaps that was the reason why she’d left. She could not stand being so alone, but then I’d ask myself why she hadn’t gone with me, why she had left me to suffer alone.

Things got better after a few years. My father moved back home and at first I was happy to have a parent around but then it was like he’d never returned. I never saw him and the few times that I did, he made it abundantly clear that his expectations for me were great and that I had to make sure to never fail him, or else…

It was a vague threat but then I’d heard from one of my friends, a maid at the house, Jenna. Jenna had said that my parents had some type of contractual marriage and that he’d wanted a boy child, that it was a miracle he hadn’t sent me packing with my mom.

According to her, he’d taken one look at me and decided that he’d keep me after all. Jenna often said it was because I had my father’s eyes.

With that information in my mind, I decided that I was going to be worth my father’s mercy. And so I’d begun taking my education very seriously, especially business, as I hoped that one day I might takeover from him as the owner of his very big, multi-millionaire car company. At least, I assumed that when he said he had high expectations, that was what he meant.

I learned every language I could get my mind on, played every instrument I saw, studied every book on persuasion and how to manipulate people into doing what you wanted.

My determination paid off, I was offered scholarship to study in Harvard and by that time, my dad started to notice me. He got me birthday presents, a car, a diamond necklace, an overwhelming amount of dresses.

The most surprising of his presents was when he invited me over to his study and told me he’d give me a reasonable percentage of his shares of his company if I could fish out information on what his rival business wanted to add to their new model of cars.

That was how I’d ended up with Luke, and a bunch of other guys in campus. With each secret I obtained, my shares grew and my father, Leonard Hooke, grew more proud of me.

He introduced me to his board members, shareholders, invited me to meetings, got me into offices of very prominent men and women of the country, including the President of the country, once.

So by the time I was done with Havard, I’d already become the executive director of my father’s company. White Corp.

“This world we’re in, only the strongest, the coldest, it is only they who survive. So be sure to guard that pretty heart of yours. Your head is all that you need. Keep this up, because the moment you cease to become of use to me, I shall cut all ties.”

My father would always say to me whenever he had the chance, whenever I’d come to boast of merging companies, or trampling smaller companies and acquiring them for crumbs.

We never spoke of my mother, and I thought that that was okay, my dad’s approval was all I ever wanted.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

My eyes flickered open and I did not need to be told that I was at a hospital. The smell of antiseptic and drugs that assaulted my nose were enough proof of that.

The memory of what had transpired before my blackout came crashing down on me, and in its wake was a massive migraine. Tears spilled uncontrollably from my eyes as it hit me, the repercussion of what I’d done.

I’d gone against my father’s warning, and I had no idea how I’d face him. I’d thought myself too smart, too good of a manipulator to know when I was being manipulated but I’d been caught unaware by the man that was Declan Henderson, son of the British multi-millionaire, Robert Henderson.

Ironically, I’d been introduced to him by none other than Evelyn.

The tears poured freely from my eyes and when a handkerchief wiped the tears from my eyes, my breath caught in my throat. The scent of the small piece of clothing hit me and it was a scent that I’d recognize anywhere.

Through the tears, I could see his blurry figure as he stood over me.

“You’ve disappointed me, Latricia.” My father said.