One Son got me a Billionaire

An Email

My mind wandered back to what Max had said on my way home. Did it mean Melissa wasn’t his mother?

I was suddenly pulled out of my thoughts by the noises coming from the next block. This area was notorious for gangs so I immediately became alert.

I traced it and found out it wasn't the gangs but my dad, making me exhale sharply in anger.

It took every bit of sanity in me not to march over there and give him a resounding slap.

“I’ve warned you several times, yet you still dare to puke on our shop’s porch, chasing customers away with your filth!” a fat man in a worker’s uniform scolded.

My father sat on the ground in front of a local mart, making a public spectacle of himself. There was no body around this street who didn't knew him as a worthless drunkard.

“Riele!” he shouted, grabbing a young girl who had just stepped out of the mart. Obviously, he was not clearheaded.

“Oh my goodness, let go of me! Ahh!” the girl screamed, struggling against his grip.

I looked on, clenching my fists when someone glanced in my direction. I immediately ducked behind a wall and walked hastily towards another longer route home hastily.

“Oh good, you’re here.”

I met my landlord upon arriving home, an unsettling feeling crawling up my spine because the pay I had received earlier had gone into something else. I didn’t even know he was back to the States.

“Mr. Ross, I was just about to call….” I tried to explain when he cut in,

“It’s not about the rent. I no longer have the strength to chase you over it,” he said.

I was about to respond but he signaled for me to wait for him to finish.

“This property has been sold. Here’s the quit notice.” He handed me a white sheet of paper.

“I think it’s better than always having banter with your family over rent, don’t you feel so?”

My eyes fixed on the paper as I opened it with an even more unsettling feeling. I could guess what it contained, nevertheless read the contents. We were to evacuate within thirty days.

“Can you give us more time? Thirty days won’t be enough to gather up to move out,” I pleaded but his mind had been made up.

“And why should I care? It’s not like I collected rent from your family these past two months. One would say I’ve tried.” he raised his voice slightly.

I stared at the paper in my hands as he walked out.

How was I supposed to save enough in thirty days?

I tried to fix my expression before going in, not wanting my mom to feel worried.

The wooden door creaked open as I stepped inside.

She was wrapped in blankets, lying on what could loosely be described as a couch.

“Riele, this tv is acting up again,” my younger brother, Clifford, announced in frustration.

My eyes trailed to the tv that stood on a low table, the images cracked with weird sounds coming out. I've long wished to have it thrown off but it was better to manage it than not have any.

“Are you trying to fix it or ruin it completely? Quit hitting it,” I scolded.

“Mama!” Shayla, my cherished daughter about the same age as Max, ran to me with a warm hug. I picked her up, her cheerfulness contagious.

“My Shayla, how was school today?”

“Late,” she said, pointing at Clifford.

I immediately understood what she meant and threw the nearest object at him. He was lucky it was just Shayla’s doll.

“I know you were busy playing football. You forgot to pick her up on time again.” I said.

“Now, Riele, Shayla is watching,” Mom reminded gently.

She had been a great support in helping me raise Shayla. Sometimes, I forgot I was a mother too.

A sigh escaped my lips. “Are you alright, Mom?”

She coughed lightly. “Just a minor cold. You don’t have to worry,” she said.

I said nothing and just stared at her worriedly, hoping it truly was minor. If her health sparked up again, I wouldn’t know what to do.

“Your food is over there. How was work today?” Mom asked.

A bowl of mac and cheese sat in the corner of the room, a few sliced hot dogs on top.

I didn’t even want to get into it, so I answered, “Good.”

“Riele, maybe we should move to a cheaper place. We can’t afford to live here anymore,” Mom suggested. That means she heard my conversation with our Landlord.

“I know, Mom. But it’s not forever. There are more opportunities here in Washington, D.C.

We’ll find a solution soon. Stop worrying.” I assured, hoping it would ease her worries even though I couldn't help but worry myself.

I settled into the creaky chair, however before I could take a spoonful, my phone rang. It was an unknown number but I kinda knew the caller.

I squeezed it nervously before answering. “Hello?”

“You’re testing our patience. Do you think ignoring our calls will stop us from collecting our money?” a gruff voice barked.

I quickly removed the phone from speaker so Mom wouldn’t hear and panic.

“I wasn’t ignoring your call,” I said quietly. “Please, you have to understand. I’m finding ways to pay.

We’re not running anywhere.”

“Even if you try, we won’t fail to track you down. Got it?” he threatened and the line went dead the next thing.

Weeks passed in a blur.

I continued working as Max’s nanny, only visiting home on weekends.

Every day felt like a thorn in my flesh as Max threw abrupt tantrums and always had a trick up his sleeve.

There were even times he kicked me out of the house and I would have to go into hiding just to make him believe I had left. Of course I couldn't possibly leave.

His father imposed strict working

conditions.

I wasn’t paid daily like Melissa had done and had to wait until the end of the month.

I had found a decent apartment, but without the funds to secure it, it was taken.

“No, no. You have to put it the other way around,” I corrected Max as we worked on the building project assignment he was given at school but he insisted on doing things his own way.

“Get me pineapple juice,” he demanded.

What choice do I have but to obey this little kid. I hurried to the kitchen and poured him a glass. On my way back, a notification popped up on my phone.

I blinked twice to make sure my eyes weren't deceiving me.

An email from one of the biggest corporations in the city.

I hadn’t finished reading it when my phone was suddenly knocked from my hand. It tumbled over the railing and crashed onto the first floor below.

“My phone!” I screamed helplessly, watching it shatter on impact.

That was when it occured to me to turn around, feeling the cold presence beside me.

“Sir,” I greeted Max's father, suppressing my rage and wishing I could shout at him for being careless.

I had been invited for an interview at Swales Corporation, a widely successful company, but hadn’t seen the date or requirements when my phone got knocked over.

Why was he giving me that look when I should be the one angry here?

I then noticed juice had spilled onto his tailored suit.

“I’m sorry, sir,” I quickly apologized and then peeked down at my broken phone.

A ring from his phone pierced the silence. He lifted it to his ear.

“Have the meeting move up to fifteen minutes” he said, then ended the call.

“I’ll help you change, sir,” I said, trying to keep up as he walked toward his room.

Just as I reached the doorway, he shut the door in my face.

Well, to hell with him.

All I could think about was the Email I wasn't able to finish reading. I rushed downstairs and found my phone beyond repair. My hands trembled as I gathered the shattered pieces, tears threatening to spill.

“Dad says strong people don’t cry. Why are you crying?” Max’s tiny voice asked.

A faint smile curved my lips. “I’m not crying, am I?” I said. It was just depressing to loose a phone, I would have to get another one.

Max looked genuinely confused, as if trying to understand how an adult could cry and continued staring at me, as though studying something on my face.

Footsteps approached. His father reappeared, changed into a fresh suit.

Max ran to him and wrapped his arms around his long legs.

“Dad, Dad,” he urged.

Then he pointed at my phone.

“Get Mummy a new phone.”