I accidentally married a billionare

Chapter 4

Tyler’s Point of View

Have you visited a house where the furniture is so nice that you hesitate to touch anything? That is my house. There is no average furniture, nothing basic or simple. My mother has nothing less than the best.

Tall ceilings flow through the main foyer, and a massive chandelier reflects light off the hundreds of crystals. The dark tile has red and green tones placed on the floor in the early eighties. Traditional and ornate decorations adorn every wall. The living room displays antique furniture, including an old couch with a wooden frame leaning against one wall. No one sits on it, as they wouldn’t want to be the one to break it. All the other furniture matches.

Elane, my mother, stands in the living room waiting for my father. She puts on her 14 karat gold hoops. Her clothes are stylish, although much too young a style for her. All her efforts to look younger age her skin.

I am sitting on the couch, because it is mine and if I break it, I buy it. Watching my parents play out their perfect life in a facade reminds me of my obligations.

My father joins us, wearing an older fitted suit with dress shoes.

“You look lovely, my dear,” he says. The tone in his voice is monotonous, as if he has practiced these words in the mirror. There is no emotion in them, no meaning. Their relationship is fake.

Watching the two of them makes my throat sink into my stomach. A solemn reminder of my future. Marriage to a woman I can’t stand, all for a good business deal.

Once I get married, my parents will inherit my grandfather’s estate. Until then, I provide them with financial support. Although I inherit a successful company and am a billionaire, I receive no family inheritance. I earn every penny myself.

I stand up, not wanting to watch this play anymore. My mother approaches me.

“Where are you going, son?”

I look at my mother, partially confused and partially irritated. Why was she questioning me? No one questions my actions, not even my mother.

“Why the f**k are you speaking to me?”

She turns to my father, hoping for some support. He puts his hands up in surrender and walks backwards.

“Because I am your mother. I arranged this business dinner, Tyler. For you.”

I lean into my mother, letting my body language set the menacing tone in my eyes.

“You mean a meeting to discuss my nuptials to that cow, Sarah, Selena, Stephanie? Whatever her f*****g name is! I am not marrying her.”

“Her name is Serena, Tyler.”

“She’s a spoiled, immature b***h who isn’t worth my time, and neither are you. Don’t you EVER forget who pays for all of this.”

I flick her gold earring. As I leave the room, my mother holler back at me, “You are thirty-two years old, Tyler! It is time to settle down.”

Charlie, my best friend and security guard, meets me at the mansion entrance. There are a few people I trust in this world. Charlie is one of them. He nods as my mother’s voice radiates into the hallway.

“Jeans?“ He comments.

“Yes. I do own clothes that are not for business.”

“I couldn’t tell. You have a suit jacket and tie on.”

He teases me, trying to lighten the mood. I step outside to the SUV and slide into the backseat.

“Where to boss?” Charlie said.

“Bucanna restaurant. I have some business to attend to, then we will go to Eden club. What I need tonight is a quick fuck.”

Charlie nods and pulls the car away.

“You’re going to the dinner? Do I need to get fitted for a best man suit?”

Charlie continues to joke with me to lighten the mood. He is the only person who knows how much I dread the idea of marriage. I have never met a single couple that is happy. It is all pretense. I may be a colossal asshole, a ruthless businessman, and a tough person, but I believe that marriage should be about love. And I have never met someone I could fall in love with.

“Smartass,” I say, ensuring my tone is light. “I am sick and tired of them forcing me to get married, all so they can have money. It’s time to put an end to it.”

We pull up to Bucanna, a small restaurant in the elite part of town. A black canopy hangs outside the door, the name written in gold lettering. The door itself is simple and black, with no windows. Bucanna is a restaurant for the elite, and promises privacy, shown by the tinted windows. There is a valet at a podium, waiting for the next customers.

To the left of the restaurant is the silhouette of a woman. Something about the way she stands gives me pause. It might be the way she is standing or how the glow of the streetlights illuminates her gorgeous face. I can’t put my finger on it.

It is almost impossible for me to not stare at the mystery woman as I enter the restaurant. I can’t help but notice how her jeans stress her plump ass or how the clasp on her suede jacket resembles a collar around her perfect neck. She is stunningly beautiful. I push all thought of her out of my mind. The last thing I need right now is a distraction.

I steel myself, ready to be the cruel businessman that I need to be. I loathe the idea of entering this restaurant and confronting the immature woman my parents would like me to marry. My parents have been friends with Selena’s father most of my life. If I am in love with her, we would be together already.

The mystery woman is yelling on her phone; I eavesdrop on her conversation.

“You ASSHOLE! I have been outside the unnecessarily fancy restaurant for the last two hours. Jesus, you fucker. Divorcing you was the best thing I have ever done. I need to sign the papers, James. THIS WEEK.”

She hits the end call button with the same force as you would if you were slamming a traditional phone. Her gaze catches mine and I smile at her.

I bump into Charlie as we enter. She is adorable, the way her face crinkles when she is angry. My eyes flicker as they adjust to the dark light. Patrons fill the booths and tables lined with red velvet. There is a low buzz of noise. The maitre’d greets us.

“Mister Henderson, the rest of your party is here.”

He tries to direct me to the table. I push past him, making a beeline for my parents.

Serena Oliver, the woman I am supposed to marry, sits at the table, along with her father John.

Serena is in a tight body con dress that covers just enough of her legs to not be inappropriate. Her four-inch high-heeled shoes brush up against the back of the chair. She has too much makeup on.

John stands up, his cheap suit falling off his body. He stretches his hand out for a handshake, but I ignore him. John takes the hint and sits down.

Elaine’s eyes watch John with longing as his face fills with defeat.

“Thank you for agreeing to meet with us, Tyler. Since you took over the company from your father, I was unsure you would keep to his promise.”

I stand in silence.

“Sit down. There is a seat next to my daughter. You remember Serena?”

Serena leans in to shake my hand, but pulls me close. In a tone almost akin to a whisper, she says, “I always knew we would end up together, pumpkin spice.”

I free my arm with a forceful tug as Charlie positions himself between Serena and me.

“If you touch me again, b***h, you’ll wish Charlie called the cops.”

I turn my head to address John. “And you! Selling your daughter to the highest bidder and you still couldn’t keep your profit margins. 25 million - for the patents. Take it or leave it.”

I don't judge John for his actions, as I am certain that the idea came from my parents.

Serena emits a high-pitched whine. “Whatttt? DADDY! I thought you were rich?”

People from other tables are staring at her display. Robert speaks up, defending his old friend.

“I am sure Tyler will re-negotiate. Tyler. Sit down and discuss this.”

“There is nothing to discuss. Oliver technology is bankrupt. “I make sure of it.” I lean into the table, a wisp of air in my voice. “My offer stands. No negotiation.”

I turn to face John. “I will expect your call tomorrow.”

“TYLER!”

The screeching of my mother’s voice does not stop me from leaving.

As soon as the night air hits my face, a young woman, only 19, tramples into me and Charlie, running at her top speed. The heels and dress she wears inhibit her movement. Once Charlie steadies the young woman, she breathes in, tries to catch her breath, and points behind her.

There she was, the mystery woman, facing off with a thug holding a knife.

The young girl, now having enough breath, says, “She saved me. She is trying to stop him.”

Any other time, and with any other woman, I would walk away, ignoring the situation.

Not this time.