The Return Of The Anonymous Billionaire

Liam's drive to his first cleaning job of the day was uneventful as usual. “I just hope Mr. Oliver doesn't forget he told me to come,” he reasoned anxiously, shaking his head faintly as he mumbled, “These rich men and their ways.” With one hand still on the steering wheel, his thoughts began to wander to his responsibilities and the mounting pressure back at home. The bills were becoming too much to surmount, particularly at this point in time. He needed to prove himself worthy first to Vivian, his wife, followed by his siblings. And talking about Vivian, she had really been quite cold of late. She always wore a pout on her lips and had stopped sleeping on the same bed with him for over a few days now. The worst part was that he was not going to pretend that he did not know why. As vigorous as his efforts were, his daily returns had been quite meager. “It will be well,” he whispered limply, gazing straight ahead as the car edged closer to the off-white estate that was Oliver’s residence. A few minutes later, Liam steered the car through the wide gates of the sprawling estate. He parked his old car in a corner of the parking lot before proceeding to the service entrance where he was told his work for the day would begin. The main house was even more massive than he thought, and the compound floors were adorned with stretches of polished marble. As Liam began his work, he couldn't help but notice that something felt off. The house was just too quiet, devoid of the usual staff bustling about. “Where did everyone go?” he wondered, looking around like a lost pilgrim. “Could Oliver have really gone out?” He paused to think in worry. When no answers were forthcoming, he shrugged and decided to proceed with what had brought him to the estate: cleaning. He whistled as he moved from one room to the next, cleaning out the expensive rooms with busy hands. About two hours into the cleaning, Liam approached the master bedroom but immediately stopped at the doorpost when he started to hear voices. The door was slightly ajar, and curiosity got the better of him. He peeked inside, and what he saw made his blood run cold, his jaw hung open, and his feet stuck to the ground. It was the face and figure of his very own wife wrapped up in the hairy arms of Oliver Lancaster. Their laughter and romantic whispers felt like knives thrown at his heart. His eyes widened, and his fists clenched. “What is this?” Liam murmured, wiping his face with his wet palms over and again. When it was clear that he was not dreaming, his anger ran wild. He could no longer help but burst into the room and shout at the top of his voice. “What the hell is going on here?” he shouted. Vivian and Oliver turned at once in his direction, looking startled for a moment. But it did not last long because Vivian’s expression quickly turned to one of disdain. “Liam, must you always be told everything? You shouldn’t be here,” she said coldly. Oliver smirked and turned to her. “Looks like the cleaner doesn’t know his place.” Liam’s fists clenched even tighter. “How could you, Vivian? After everything we’ve been through?” Vivian rolled her eyes. “Don’t be so dramatic. You’re nothing but a piece of inconvenience. Did you really think this was real?” Liam stepped backward as his heart soared in his chest. Her words cut deeper than a hundred knives. “What?” he exclaimed almost inaudibly. Before he could say anything else, Oliver rose to his full height and stepped forward. “I think it’s time for you to leave,” he roared with a threatening tone. Liam knew he was outmatched. The power dynamics were painfully clear. He swallowed, remembering again that he was just the worthless cleaner after all. One side of his face quivered. “This is really happening,” he realized inside his head. “I said get out!” Oliver thundered, pulling Liam back to the present. Oliver tightened his lips, looking from Liam to his wife, who now had a sly smile on her face. Finally, Liam turned around and left with quick, forceful steps, his mind a whirlwind of anger mixed proportionately with despair. He did not even remember to carry his tools. As he walked back to his car, knowing that he had just left his wife in the arms of one of the most powerful men in the country, he knew in his heart of hearts that his life was about to change forever. That evening, while Liam sat in front of his lobby wearing only a singlet and shorts, still smarting from the pain of the sight he had witnessed in the morning and half-waiting for Vivian's return, a call suddenly made his phone vibrate beside him. It was a call from his boss, Philip. He wrinkled his face, wondering what could have happened this time. As soon as he picked up, even more unpleasant news was waiting for him. “Good evening, sir,” he greeted, pressing the phone to his ear. The man cleared his throat at the other end before he began to speak. His voice sounded as though he were reading from something. “Mr. Liam, good evening to you too. A detailed report came to us from your wife about your inappropriate behavior at home, with lots of proof to back these claims. Being aware of our code of conduct as a brand, you of all people should have known better than to flout these rules. Unfortunately, there is no turning back. You know we don't joke with these things.” “What... what things, sir?” Liam couldn't help but stutter, his face lined with furrows. “Mr. Liam, please refrain from interrupting me henceforth.” “Sorry, sir…” “You have been fired, Mr. Liam. Please ensure you're at the office tomorrow to receive your retrenchment letter if you deem fit.” The man blurted before hanging up. Liam kept his phone to his ear even after the call was over. He was stiff in the preceding seconds. Sacked? His world was crumbling further before his eyes, and there was nothing he could do. He was totally helpless. Without a job, he would be handicapped, vulnerable, and even more defenseless. “Vivian?” he mumbled, running his hand over his hair, feeling the sting of burning tears in his eyes. “Where do I go from her?”