The Billionaire's Fairytale

Chapter 1

Once upon a time, there was a beautiful princess that lived in a magical kingdom and she was loved by all who met her...  One day, she met a prince and they fell in love, they faced trials together, grew stronger and afterwards lived happily ever after… but I am not a princess and this is not your typical fairy tale.

…I was running, trying to run away from him, but my legs are moving as if I’m running through water… I can’t get away… he’s catching up… I HAVE to get away... I run faster and push my legs harder but it’s no use, he’s right behind me… his hand is stretched out to grab a hold of my shoulder…

“Catherine, wake up!  You’ll be late for work.” My mother yells from my door, jolting me out of my dream and into a reality that is just as nightmarish.

“I’m up, I’m up.” I say while rolling my tired body out of my warm and comfy queen size bed.

Great, I think to myself, my nightmares have returned.

This is torture, I don’t want to wake up and go to work. I am the daughter of a well-to-do businessman and don’t have to work if I don’t want to, but my mother comes from more humble beginnings and insisted that I will never value anything in life if I do not work for it myself and understand what hard work means. It’s not that I don’t know how to work hard, I was a straight A student in school and graduated my degree Summa c*m Laude from my father’s alma mater, Princeton University.  So, you would think that I’d proven that I can work hard, but no, not according to my mother.  I still had to get a job, not that it was hard, I just think that I deserved some well earned time off, to be myself and to discover what I really want to do with my life and yes, I am a 26 year old that still lives with my parents and yes, 26 is a little young to be a doctor, but what can I say, I am a dedicated person.  My parents also convinced me to stay at home as I am the only heir to my father’s business and need to learn the ropes while I focus on building my career as well.

So, I jump in the shower to wake up my still half asleep body and get started with my morning routine.  Once I’m dressed I take a seat at my vanity to apply my make up, as I get started I stare at myself, trying to find something that would tell me something new about myself.  I’m not very tall, but wouldn’t classify as short either at a height of 5’6, I am typically described as a dark beauty.  Not that I can really see what others find so interesting about me, with my oval shaped face, my long, dark brown, slightly wavy hair that gets the occasional natural highlight, my almond-shaped, storm grey eyes and my bow-shaped lips with a slight, natural rose tint.  I still see the same person that I have stared at the last 20 years with the exception of how age and maturity changed my features, I still saw the same old Catey and I was sick of it, I felt stuck and didn’t know how to get myself unstuck.

I was yearning for change, change that would find its way to me in the most unexpected of ways, through the most unexpected of people.  Whoever said fate was kind, have not met me yet, otherwise they would have sung a very different tune.  Fate to me was an old cruel hag that enjoyed messing with people’s lives and plans.

I need a change, I think to myself as I am staring at my face, I need to get away and find out why I studied Psychology in the first place.  My parents thought it was an odd choice, but was also happy that I was able to pick a field of study, while the rest of my friends were still trying to ‘find what they were meant for’, which basically meant partying until dawn.  I, on the one hand felt jealous that they had the freedom to make mistakes and could do what they wanted, while I had to step up and uphold the Williams legacy. On the other hand I never really had the urge to party till dawn and to see how many shots it took for me to forget who I was and what I was doing, I was grateful that my parents pushed me to study, even if it was Psychology.

“Catherine Marie Williams, I swear to god if you are not up yet I’ll dump a bucket of ice on you!” My mother called again from downstairs, quickly pulling me out of my untimely contemplation of what my life is turning into.

“I’m up and will be downstairs in 5, Mom!” I call back quickly, wanting to avoid any type of rude awakening that my mother might have planned for me.

I quickly put the finishing touches of my make up on and head downstairs to the kitchen, where I can smell breakfast cooking.

“Morning Mom,” I say as I enter the kitchen, grabbing a mug from the cupboard to get some much needed caffeine, to chase away those last lingering bits of sleep from my cells.

“Morning Cate, I thought for sure that you had gone back to bed after I had woken you up. I just made a fresh pot, it’s on the table, dear.” My mom says as she watched me grab a cup on my way into the kitchen.

“I had a very strong urge to go back to bed, but thought better of it once I remembered how much you love to wake me up and thanks, I really need some coffee.” I say smiling while seeing my mother’s eyes twinkle with mischief.

“I wouldn’t have had to get so creative if you weren’t so immune to the more conventional methods of waking a person up.” She replies with a grin tugging at the edge of her lips.

“Ri-i-ight, so dumping a bucket of ice on someone is considered a conventional method of waking someone up?” I say with my own grin pulling at the corners of my mouth, while I watch my mother finishing up our breakfast.

As much as I hate my mother’s methods, I can’t argue that they are both effective and entertaining, ‘cause once I was over the initial shock of whatever my mother’s devious mind had cooked up that morning, I’d be fighting to keep a straight face and before long we would both be laughing till we had tears in our eyes.

Before my mother could utter her reply, my father, James, barged into the kitchen with a face-splitting grin.