The Billionaires Secret Marriage

Chapter 5

Ashley

The morning rush is a mix of routine and chaos. I usher Ellie and Luke out of the house with the usual chorus of, “Is everything ready? Are you sure you've packed all your books?” and “Where’s your lunchbox?” I look them up and down, ticking all that needs to be done in my head. They are wearing their shoes and socks. They have their backpacks. "Let's go," I say to them. Their school is a little far from where we stay because it's for the elite and we stay in a different environment. I am one of the lucky ones to gain admission for my kids in that school.

I woke up replaying yesterday's events, the way my gut twisted when I saw Henry and the way Luke tried to brush off the bullying he went through. The crisp November air bites at my cheeks as I guide Ellie and Luke out of the house.

Ellie skips ahead of me, her braided ponytail hair bouncing as she clutches Luke’s hand. “Come on, Luke!” she urges, her voice full of excitement. Luke follows quietly, his backpack bouncing against his small frame, his enthusiasm noticeably muted.

The week of Thanksgiving always comes with a certain energy. Stores packed with decorations, the smell of baked goods in the air, and the hum of Christmas creeping in early.

This year, thanks to my new job, I'm hoping to be able to provide whatever the kids ask for. In the past, we were unable to fully celebrate any festivities. Even getting new dresses for them during Christmas was a problem but thankfully I've paid all my loans and the hospital bills.

Arriving at the school I see the school’s festive banners hung proudly above the entrance, proclaiming “A Time for Gratitude! Thanksgiving.”. Nearby, a group of parents unload boxes of canned goods from their SUVs and luxury cars, their laughter mixing with the sounds of children chattering and bells jingling faintly from somewhere. Neatly stacked boxes, each adorned with shiny family logos, glint in the soft light. Normally, this kind of thing puts me in a cheerful mood and strikes me as something I want for my kids. It even encourages me sometimes but Not today.

My focus is on the conversation I plan to have with the head of the school about what happened yesterday with Luke and Ellie. He barely said a word about it last night but I'm sure he's not okay with being bullied. Who will be? How does something like that happen in the best-gifted school in AccraVille?

“Bye, Mama!” Ellie calls over her shoulder as they approach the school gate.

Luke glances back, offering a small wave. “Bye,” he says softly, the word barely audible.

The school’s front office is warm and buzzing with activity, decorated with garlands of autumn leaves and another “A Time for Gratitude! Thanksgiving.” poster pinned to the wall. A faint smell of coffee and freshly baked muffins wafts from somewhere nearby.

I greet the secretary and tell her briefly I want to speak to the head of the school. She points me toward the headmistress’s office. When I knock lightly on the door, the headmistress looks up, her smile polite but apologetic as if she knows why I'm in her office today.

“Ms. Brown, good morning,” she says, gesturing for me to sit.

“Good morning,” I reply, lowering myself into the chair across from her desk. My hands grip the strap of my bag as I steady my voice. “I wanted to discuss something that happened yesterday with my son, Luke.”

“Of course,” she says, nodding. “But I should tell you—the matter has already been resolved.”

Her words catch me off guard. I blink. “Resolved? What do you mean?”

She folds her hands over a stack of papers and leans forward. “Mr. Anderson—Ernest Anderson—spoke to the parents involved earlier this morning. He made sure everyone understood the seriousness of the situation, and I can assure you there won’t be any further issues.” Ernest Anderson I'm aware is one of the biggest donors of the school. there are whispers he's even a partner and is also the largest shareholder. I don't even know him personally. why would he do that?

I pause, the name landing strangely in my ears. “Mr. Anderson?”

"Yes," she says, offering a small smile. "He mentioned your children—Ellie and Luke are friends with his, and he wanted to step in to support your family. Since Luke is on the scholarship program, we’re especially grateful for Mr. Anderson’s assistance."

Luke is just as brilliant as his sister, but he was quickly identified as exceptionally gifted. I knew I had to find a school that could nurture his potential. Balancing that with my finances, however, was a challenge. When I arrived in Accraville, I realized I could only afford to send one of them to this school. So, I took a chance and applied for the scholarship program. Luke was selected, and for that, I’ll always be grateful.

“He just… left?” I manage to ask.

The headmistress nods. “Yes, just a few minutes ago right before you entered. If you hurry, you might still catch him in the parking lot.”

I rise quickly, muttering a distracted “Thank you” as I head out the door.

The cold bites at my face as I step outside, the sun dazzling against the sleek cars parked in neat rows. The hum of the parking lot is a mix of engines starting, parents chatting, and children’s laughter echoing faintly in the distance.

My boots crunch against the gravel as I scan the lot, my breath fogging in front of me. I remember seeing him once at the Duffie Charity Gala. He wasn't that friendly so why would he do this? Why would Mr. Anderson get involved? Who are his children? I don't remember Ellie mentioning any Anderson child as her friend. Am I missing something?

I quicken my pace, my heart pounding harder with every step. Maybe he’s just one of those hands-on parents. Or maybe it’s guilt. But why would he feel guilty?

I spot him then, standing beside a sleek, polished black SUV. He’s tall and broad-shouldered, his tailored blazer fitting perfectly, even in a setting as casual as this. His phone is in one hand, the other resting lightly on the car door, as if he has all the time in the world.

Without thinking, I call out, “Mr. Anderson!” The words escape me before I can stop them.

He turns slowly, his movements deliberate, his expression calm but curious. His sharp gaze locks onto me, and for a moment, I wonder if I made a mistake. Then, he slips his phone into his pocket and waits, unmoving, as I close the distance between us.

“Ms. Brown,” he says, his tone polite but edged with caution, as if he’s unsure I’m the person he thinks I am.

I pause in front of him, suddenly aware of his presence, like a weight in the air I hadn’t noticed before. There’s something steady about him, unshakable, like a pillar in the chaos. But no amount of calm can answer the storm of questions in my head.

Crossing my arms, I straighten my posture, trying to hold onto the composure that feels like it’s slipping through my fingers. “Thank you for what you did for my son Luke,” I say, my voice sincere but trembling slightly. Then, without meaning to, my tone sharpens. “But you didn’t have to do that. I’m grateful, I truly am, but… why would you get involved in something like this?”

His lips part, as though he’s about to answer, but before he can, a stunning woman strides up beside him. She’s effortlessly graceful, with striking features and an air of authority that commands attention. She slips her arms around his waist in a way that feels possessive, but casual, like it’s second nature.

“What’s going on here?” she asks, her voice smooth and clipped.

I blink at her, my thoughts skidding to a halt. The way she looks at me is with curiosity but not hostility, which only deepens my confusion. And then, like puzzle pieces sliding into place, realization strikes.

My stomach lurches. Oh no.

I freeze, my words catching in my throat as my eyes go wide. I know her. Of course, I know her.

“Ma’am,” I whisper, my voice cracking under the weight of disbelief.

Her brow furrows slightly as if trying to place me. But there’s no mistaking her. Zelia Koomson. My boss. The Zelia Koomson. Co-founder and C.E.O of LEE PR consultancy. The woman whose career I’ve followed religiously. The one I’ve admired for years, whose work practically inspired me to choose this path. Working at her company is the dream I’ve been chasing since I decided to find a permanent job, and now, she’s standing here, just feet away. I feel like I’ve stepped into a parallel universe.

She c***s her head. “And you are…?”

Heat floods my face as I stammer, “I... I’m Ashley. A PR technician under Ms. Sandra’s team.” My words tumble out in a rush. “I didn’t realize—”

Recognition flickers in her eyes, and she cuts me off with a small laugh. “Ah, Ashley. The one Sandra said she sees a lot of me in?”

Wait. What?

Before I can even process her words, she steps forward and pulls me into a warm, unexpected embrace. My heart skips, then hammers wildly in my chest. OMG. I’m hugging her. I’m hugging Zelia Koomson.

When she finally lets go, I feel like my entire world has shifted. But there’s no time to recover because as I glance at Mr. Anderson, I notice his expression—skeptical as if he’s trying to piece together the exchange.

Zelia laughs softly at his expression, her tone light and teasing. "What?" she asks, raising an eyebrow.

He shakes his head, a faint smile tugging at his lips, and for a moment, I forget why I came here. Then it hits me... Luke. Right. That’s what this is about. What a mother I am.

As if sensing the shift in my mood, Zelia tilts her head, studying me. “What did my husband do now?”

“Husband?” The word slips out before I can stop it, and my hand flies to my mouth in horror.

They both burst into laughter, and I can't help but notice how different Mr. Anderson seems around her—looser, more at ease. Almost unrecognizable from the sharp, no-nonsense man.

“How could you not know?” he asks, his tone light, a playful glint in his eye.

I stumble for a response, but he waves it off with a grin, leaning back in his chair. “Anyway, our kids met yesterday. Your son and daughter met my triplet and I have to say, seeing you here with my wife, I’m even more intrigued by you.”

"You mean, the kids who stayed mine are yours?" he nods.

And just like that, I feel like I’ve been swept up into a whirlwind I didn’t even see coming.