The Billionaire’s Stripper

CHAPTER 29

"So," Michael spoke as he poured me a glass of fresh, red wine into a pretty wine cup. "What makes you love RNB so much?"

We were sitting on his magnificent dining table when he asked me this and as much as I was in complete awe at how good it looked even though all that was on the glass table were two to three bottles of expensive wine.

The same lights from the Living Room beautified the Dining room too, and with me and Michael, just the both of us in this assorted lighted room of colour, I felt like I was in a realm of heaven.

No, really. It felt amazing. Absolutely beautiful. I couldn't get over it.

Yet, I couldn't act like I was not used to this kind of luxury. I mean, to be fair, not a lot of rich people have a place like this one, but still, I was not going to break my character and embarrass myself.

So, with a smile, I clinked my cup onto Michaels' in a proper celebration of cheers, and answered the question that he had posed to me.

"Well, I'd give it all to the vibes," I answered him, "There's a smoothness with RNB. It sends me into this calm place."

He looked like he was trying to understand, but the smile on his face didn't falter. I could see clearly that he could not even relate.

I only wondered what he would think if I told him that my next best genre of music is Metal Rock.

But of course, I couldn't say that.

A woman with the image I was feigning shouldn't even be able to stand Metal Rock. So, with an invisible zipper tagged on my lips, I decided the best thing was to keep shut about that unwarranted opinion.

"You don't like RNB?" I asked him.

"It's an okay genre for me," He told me truthfully, "I am more into music that is lyrically rich, or, filled with air instruments."

"Like Classicals? Jazz?" I asked him.

A smile came on his face immediately.

"Exactly," He said.

"I get that 'escape' feeling from Jazz too," I told him.

He suddenly looked like his curiosity was piqued.

However, I continued, "I don't know much about Classicals really, I—"

"Escape feeling?" He cut me off softly, a brow raising slightly as he looked at me.

Quietly, I nodded. "Yes."

"Why would you want to escape, Green?" He asked me.

How would I even start to answer his question?

There were so many reasons that I wanted to escape. From my misery that was life. My awful life of broken dreams and failed promises. That dump of an apartment. There were so many reasons.

But, with the kind of image that I was giving off to Michael McAllister, it would have looked on the outside like there was nothing that should have made me feel depressed enough to want an escape.

"Doesn't everyone want to escape?" I asked him.

"From what?" He asked me.

"Life," I answered.

"What is it?" He whispered calmly, concern laced in his voice, "What are you going through, Green?"

That question almost hit me for a moment.

Almost.

"Look at me." I said to him.

He did.

Gaining more composure, I tried to get rid of the sentiments.

Meanwhile, Michael was looking me directly in the eyes and I took everything in me, my strength, my self control, to not falter.

"Do I look like a woman who should be struggling with life?" I asked him.

"It doesn't show on the face," He answered me, "You don't pick who and who is going through a hard time from their face. I mean, Haven't you heard that the saddest people laugh the most?"

Yeah…..

"Money isn't everything, Green," He said to me, "Even the richest people go through s**t too. Wealth does not guarantee happiness and a life without tears."

"But wealth does make you a bit happier," I lightly argued.

He seemed interested to hear me out.

"After all, it's better to cry your eyes out every night in a billion dollar mansion than in a dump, roach and rat infested apartment, yeah?" I said, with a little chuckle to hide the pained undertone in my voice. An undertone that may have given it away that I was talking about myself.

"Suffering isn't a competition," He quietly told me, "So, we can't judge or see for ourselves the truth to what you're saying."

"Yeah.." I muttered.

"So, you want to talk about it?" He asked.

"What?" I asked him back.

"What you're going through," he said to me, "We have all day, Green."

I laughed softly, touched by the fact that he was actually putting in effort to make me feel better.

Unfortunately, I could not even tell him what it was that I was going through.

"Maybe some other time," I said to him.

Anything to get out of this right now.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Perfect.

"What about you?" I asked him, "What are you going through?"

"It doesn't matter because at the end of the day, I am grateful for all I have," He said to me.

Yeah, no s**t.

"That's the most important thing," He said to me, "Looking at the good parts of life goes a long way."

"What if there are no good parts?" I asked.

"There always are," He said.

"So what if the good parts are nothing compared to the bad ones?" I asked again.

"They are still there," He answered still, "The fact is that no matter how little, there is always, always that reason why you should still live. Always, Green."

I stayed quiet. A lot ran through my mind on all of that.

"Does your brother know that?" I asked him.

That question may have caught him off guard and once again, I believe that I regreted asking.

I was relieved, however, when he scoffed into a little laugh. Even though I felt it in me that it was more of a wistful smile.

"You really grab the best opportunities to chip in Alexander into our conversation," He said to me.

I shrugged.

"I mean, I am the one who is 'taming' him," I reminded Michael, "Forgive me for being curious."

"And nervous?" He asked with a raised brow.

"I don't get nervous," I lied.

He looked at me like he did not buy that.

"Okay, fine, maybe, a little," I pinched the air for emphasis.

Michael smiled as he looked at me like I was a currency that he had never seen in his life, theost expensive piece of luxury that his billionaire a*s had ever seen.

I sat there and stared back, acting unfazed by that concentrated stare on me that threatened to break my walls.

"You're so fascinating," He said to me.

"How so?" I asked him.

"I find you a mystery," He told me, "Almost like I could find something more soft and free beneah all this exterior."

"What exterior?" I asked him.

"I feel there is only a little to you that I know," he said to me, "I feel there is a lot more to you than I even still yet to know about."

Oh, damn it. He had no freaking idea.

Michael McAllister had no idea.

"But to answer your question," He quickly diverted from what he was saying, "I hope and do pray everyday that Alexander knows that there are good reasons to live."

I was simply touched.

He loved his brother. Michael McAllister loved his brother, clearly. I could see it in every way he talked about him, how he sincerely looked concerned about him and his wellbeing, his mental health, it was clear to me that Michael actually cared about his younger brother, Alexander.

That was a wholesome discovery.

One observing them from the outlook of things would not come t that realization that he actually loved his brother, but seeing how he looked bare before me as he talked good things about and for Alexander, I was certain he wanted the best for his brother.

I only hoped that Alexander knew that.

I doubted it, in all reality.

"Everyone wants the best for Alexander," Michael spoke, sipped from his wine cup without breaking eye contact with me, "Even Lyon McAllister, himself."

He had mentioned.

He had mentioned to me that his father did not also hate Alexander and he only wanted the best for him too.

"My friend, Quinn got curious about him," I started telling Michael.

"Oh, you have friends," He noted with tease.

I laughed and rolled my eyes at him.

"And his i********: page scared us a bit," I revealed to him and Michael laughed at that.

His laughter was so beautiful and rich, and so contagious that I couldn't help but not chuckle along.

"Turns out he has dreams of conquering the world with a cigarette," I informed him.

Michael broke into another laugh.

I laughed with him and together, we suspended ourselves into a laughing spree that did not even end.

I couldn't believe that I had found myself getting so close to this man and every moment with him felt like like a dream. It was beautiful. I wanted more.

"Come with me," He said to me, a hand extended to me and I took it with pleasure, and that bright smile never left my face after I heard him say to me.

"I want to show you something I have never showed anyone before."