Billionaire's Baby Angry

Chapter 6 - Fake Fiancée, Huh?

Stacey's POV:

“Sir? I’m not the only female agent in this f*****g agency to babysit. That’s not that complicated of a mission for any other one. I’m not taking it. I’m sorry. I don’t do fake fiancée and body on body s**t. And he seems to have bodyguards, gorillas and enough trained from their eyes to protect the guy.” Yeah, he’s near me, listening to all this, and I’m like he’s on Mars or something, not seeing him. Yeah, that’s me. I’m not all there in general when out of missions, but also before. As for in the mission, you don’t want to f*****g know how crazy I f*****g am. Yeah, well. I turn around to go with a flicker of irritation in my eyes, avoiding the fucker’s sight, meaning Sedge whatever guy, but I get stopped by my boss’s voice. Both of you just GO AND f**k YOURSELVES!

“It’s your mission, Alexander. The bills from the club back then, a month ago, are high. He’s the owner of the club. He saw your skills and decided you’re perfect for it. You either take the mission or prepare some twenty million dollars out of your pocket. That damn s**t is expensive as f**k. If you take the mission, he forgets about the damages and costs for us, and pays the services aside from that as we charge on such missions. You’re booked for the next six months. If you get the bad guy before that, you’re out the next second. Here are the mission’s details and here’s the offer.” I’m raking my fingers through my hair, groaning in despair, with my back at them. Yes! I remember the club so damn well! And I know the f*****g damages! And I don’t have twenty million right now! s**t! f**k ME AND f**k ME SOME MORE! WHAT THE f**k?! AND SIX f*****g MONTHS?! I turn around with a rioting squeal, firing my boss with my criminal stare, in rabid steps to his f*****g desk to fetch the documents. No, I don’t see the main fucker. He’s banned from my sight.

“Ugh!” I start reading the mission details, a lengthy file. Same bedroom?! Act like a true fiancée in public and in house?! I’m frowning with a desperate stare on the contract, nervously chewing my inner cheek, ready to explode. Attend our engagement party?! Attend all public functions, dates and all involved in such a relationship in public and private?! Accept all intimacy involved for people to believe our relationship?! WHAT THE f**k AM I?! A f*****g ESCORT?! I raise my b****y-creature-of-the-night stare at my boss. “The f**k is this? This is something for an escort, not a paid assassin to protect and kill. Are you f*****g serious with this?” Yeah, I’m almost erupting. My heart is asking for a kill right now. My brain is smoked in anger. My breathing is erratic. He sees my state and knows the consequences, so he clears his throat, sighs, and softens his stare and grimace at me, regaining his puppy state.

“It’s for show, not for real, Stace. You’re there to protect and kill if necessary and all that included. There are people inside, that we’re yet to know of, providing info outside and that’s why you need to act in private as well. And, of course, you need to show in public what a real relationship you both have. It’s only natural. Nobody knows this is fake except for the people present at this moment.” I’m having a major headache right now and I need some f*****g sleep. I’m f*****g breaking in body. I can’t even f*****g think anymore. I still don’t look at the guy. I really don’t give a f**k on him or any other for what I care. f**k! FINE! FINE! FINE! I’LL FIND THE FUCKER FAST AND END HIM FOR HE’S DOING THIS TO ME! s**t! I grab a pen from my boss fucker’s desk and f*****g sign it without further reading anything as I can’t take anything any longer.

“FINE! I’LL f*****g SIGN IT! THERE! But I’ll let my guys write the f*****g report for the last one as I can’t f*****g stand anymore! And if the fucker expects intimacy of any kind from me?! He’s got it coming! Decency is required or he won’t get killed by the other fucker, but by his fake fiancée that he on his own has requested! Good night! I’m out!” I throw the contract on the desk, almost landing on my boss, and turn around at my four fuckers. They’re some statues as they know not to move a f*****g muscle when I’m losing it as they might get involved in my rage and it is painful for them. “All of you! Listen! Full reports! Send them on my email before submission! You’ll take your asses with me in the new mission! Posing as bodyguards! I need all eyes and ears on everyone there! When the main fucker says I need to be at his f*****g whatever place for the mission starting tomorrow, send a car to take me in! Call me one hour before taking me! Long calls! As I might not hear it from first call! UNDERSTOOD?!”

“Yes, sir!” I’m cursing them under my lips with a bad b***h stare. They’re like soldiers looking in front. Yeah, I’m tiny in front of them, but you don’t want to taste my wrath. It doesn’t consider size and all. You just get f****d. 

“GOOD! Call the f*****g car to send me home. NOW!” They spread per orders and I’m walking out. No, no look at the main fucker who ordered the fake s**t mission. I’ve just slammed the door at my back with an ‘UGH!’ I’m so f****d…. And here I wanted a f*****g break…. Yeah…. Babysitting…. s**t!

I’m lighting another cigarette, strolling to the elevator to go back downstairs, shove myself in the f*****g car, nap till home, crawl till my f*****g apartment, close the f*****g main door, and then pass out on the f*****g floor as I’m sure I won’t go further than that from how I’m feeling right now. I’m doomed…. f*****g s**t…. Fake fiancée, huh? That’s new alright…. I feel like a f*****g escort right now…. Jesus!