A DEAL WITH THE BOSSY BILLIONAIRE

Before Break-up

Sienna's POV

I happened to be barsitting on Tuesday by noon when I stumbled upon an irritating news feed on my phone. My sister Sia Staton is the wife of soon-to-be billionaire Rowan Chandler. In fury, I shattered the bar table and broke a bottle of tequila on my head. As I bled, I swore to rip my sister of any happiness besides she isn't blood—just an adopted miscreant who crawled her way into my family with tears.

Everyone in the bar was terrified, but I cared not because I was plotting a possible way to sabotage Sia's joy. Soon, an idea struck, and I made my exit before security came in to throw me out.

It was 5:30 PM in Arizona. I took a bus home and called Nolan, who would be off work, to meet with me at Subway by 7 PM. On my way home in the bus, my mother called me. I ignored it since she might want to ask me to run some errands for her. She called again, and I ignored it. The third time, she used my dad's phone to call. Since I was Daddy's girl, I had no choice but to answer.

"Hi, Dad," I greeted.

"Hi, sweetheart. Would you please answer your mother's call or better still, call her," Dad said.

"Fine," I replied and ended the call, switching over to dial my mother's number. She answered immediately.

"Mother, what?"

"What do you mean, what? Can't a mother call in to check the well-being of her child?" my mother said.

"Mother, we basically live together. It's not as if you live in LA like Dad. And I will be home soon, so just tell me what is on this evening's dinner list," I replied.

"I am not calling to ask you to get me oat milk. I just want to know where you are and to alert you to be vigilant to any strangers since the news says crime is unfolding," Mother said.

I held my fist together, recalling how life was without a roommate since college. Now, living with my mom is worse than my college roommate.

"Mother, I love you, but I can take care of myself. Besides, my five years in the US Army should count for something. So, your girl can take good care of herself. Don't worry. Now, what do you want me to get for you since we both know that is why you called, and I don't have time. I have a meeting by 7 PM," I replied.

"Hm... (sigh) just get me oat milk and banana flakes with three bacons, five veggies, and noodles," Mother said.

"Is that all?" I asked, alighting from the bus stop.

"Yes, and maybe some booze and cigars," Mother said.

"Hell no. I will get you the other, but booze and cigars are a big no. You have been clean for five years now, and I can't keep cleaning the mess up. Because if you relapse, I am the only daughter who will be there for you. Not that Sia cares to help out. So much for getting her educated only to return with a certificate for us to eat," I replied.

"Just get me a little. I promise not to relapse. Please," Mother pleaded.

"There is no way in hell I am falling for this. You may have applied this same trick on Sia, but trust me, it will never work on me," I said.

"Fine, you seem not to care about your mother at all," Mother said, jouzing like a drunk.

"Mother, are you drinking again?" I asked.

"No, I am not," Mother replied, drunk.

"I feel like you are drinking again. You are lucky I am plotting a nice revenge on my sister who left us this way. If reserve were the case, I would have called in a favor to have you jailed and released until you are sober. But I can't pick a fight with you tonight. There will be no booze or cigars, so you either suck it or go take a nap. When I get home, I better not smell cigars or alcohol. Am I clear? I wonder how Dad managed to put up with you all these years with a petition for divorce," I replied authoritatively.

"Crystal," Mother said.

"Good. See you in 20 minutes," I replied.

With Sia away abandoning the family since grade four and returning home anytime she is hurt, in jail, or worse, out of funds, I took it upon myself to always take whatever gain or success she had in her life as payback for all the hurt she caused to my family since her adoption, even to the death of Grandpa and Aunt May.

After getting a few items from the store, I took a cab home. When I got home, I found the house in a mess. I cleaned it up and put Mom to rest on her bed, prepared dinner, and kept hers in the refrigerator. I left a note with instructions on what she should do and not do.

Mother always drank and smoked when she felt Sia made her a bad mother. Mother had a stroke when Sia was ten. She robbed Mother's boss of two hundred grand. Mother was fired, and our old house was sold to pay up. At seven, Sia killed Madam Claude's black puppy, and Mother was accused of racism. She was stoned with tomatoes every day she went to work. When Sia was twelve, she ejected Dad's safety jacket, leading Dad to walk with a prosthetic leg.

And all these years, she never once apologized. Yet in the public eye, she is Mother Teresa while I am the she-devil. Since no one seems to believe me when I say Sia is not an angel, I decided it is best I, the she-devil, make her pay for the horror she brought to my family either in tears or blood using any means necessary except murder.

Soon, I arrived at Subway, a ten-minute walk from my rented apartment. I walked in and saw Nolan wave his hand. I walked towards him and sat.