The Billionaire Next Door

Seraphienna’s POV The walls of our house weren’t just painted in fading cream—they echoed with screams, cries, and the ghosts of every fight we were forced to witness. I had grown used to the shouting, the insults, the crashing plates… but I never got used to the way it felt. Heavy. Suffocating. Like drowning in silence even when the room was filled with noise. I was twenty-three. Too old to still be stuck in a house that felt like a prison, yet too young to have escaped the chains that held me down all these years. I should have left earlier, but I couldn’t—not when my little brothers needed me. “Fienna…” a small voice tugged at my sleeve. I turned to see Leo, just five years old, clutching his teddy bear tightly. His wide eyes mirrored mine—tired and scared. Beside him was Aidan, eight years old but already carrying the weight of someone twice his age. “Are we really leaving?” Aidan asked, his voice barely a whisper, as if afraid the walls might hear. I crouched down in front of them and nodded. “Yes. Tonight. I can’t let you two grow up in this kind of hell.” Our parents were arguing again—something about money, about respect, about things that never had answers. The yelling had turned into things being thrown, fists pounding on doors, and bruises we never talked about. I had taken the beatings quietly for years, but I refused to let the boys grow up thinking that was normal. I had saved up just enough from working part-time jobs secretly—waitressing, online tutoring, whatever paid. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to get us out. I stuffed the last of our things into an old duffel bag. Clothes, a few important documents, a pack of instant noodles, a cheap phone I bought just last week, and my acceptance letter to Dela Merced University. A second chance at college. A second chance at life. “Don’t cry,” I told myself more than them. We snuck out the backdoor just after midnight. The night air was cold, but it felt like freedom. Every step away from that house felt like breathing again. I didn't know where exactly we were going to end up—we would be crashing at an old boarding house I found online—but I knew this: it was going to be better than what we left behind. I glanced down at my brothers. Leo was holding my hand tightly, his eyes fluttering closed with every step. Aidan walked quietly, bravely, like he knew he had to be the big brother too now. “I promise,” I whispered to them as we waited for the last train to the city, “I’ll make this life better for us. I’ll finish school. I’ll find a real job. We’ll never go back to that house. Ever.” The city lights glimmered in the distance. For the first time in forever, I felt hope. We arrived at the apartment just before dawn. It wasn’t anything special—just a cramped studio with cracked tiles, a flickering bulb in the kitchen, and a bed that looked older than me. But it was ours. No yelling, no broken plates, no walking on eggshells. Just peace, even if it was small and temporary. I paid the first month’s rent in cash—just barely enough from what I had left. We couldn’t afford more than this yet, but I wasn’t planning on staying long. Once I started earning again, we’d move to something safer, something cleaner. A place where the boys could have their own beds, maybe even their own room. One day. What I didn’t tell my brothers was that before we left, I’d taken every last peso I could find from our parents’ stash. Hidden cash in drawers, under the bed, in old jars—every bit of it. I didn’t feel guilty. Not for a second. After all the years they wasted that money on vices—alcohol, gambling, even worse—they didn’t deserve to keep it. Not when their children were starving for something as basic as safety. I turned to check on Leo and Aidan. They were lying on the mattress I’d spread on the floor, sharing one thin blanket. Leo was already asleep, curled up beside his teddy bear. Aidan was still awake, his eyes watching me carefully. “Are you okay?” I asked softly as I crouched beside him. He nodded, but his voice was hesitant. “Is this really home now?” “For now, yes,” I smiled. “It’s not much, but it’s a start. I promise, we’ll find a better one soon.” I reached out and brushed the hair from his forehead. “You’re safe here. No one’s going to hurt us anymore.” “Are we gonna eat later?” “Yes,” I nodded. “We’ll have something warm when we wake up. I’ll go out and buy breakfast.” “And you’re gonna study too?” My heart clenched a little. “Yes. I got into college again. I’ll make it work, even if I have to juggle work and classes.” Aidan’s eyes softened, like he finally believed me. “Okay. Thank you, Ate.” I smiled and kissed his forehead. “Sleep now. I’ll always make sure you’re okay, both of you. That’s a promise.” As they drifted off to sleep, I sat by the window, watching the early morning light creep through the cracked blinds. The city outside was still waking up, cars slowly rumbling down the street, a vendor’s cart squeaking as it passed by. I had no idea how I was going to juggle being a student, a guardian, and a provider—but I knew one thing for sure: I wasn’t going back. This was the beginning of our new life. I didn’t have everything figured out, but I had them. And for now, that was enough. I went downstairs to the small convenience store inside our apartment building. It wasn’t much, but it was close and open 24/7, which was a blessing for nights like this. I bought three cup noodles and three bottles of mineral water. When I returned to the apartment, I carefully set them on the tiny kitchen counter and called out to my brothers. “Hey, I got us something to eat,” I said softly, trying to sound upbeat. “It’s just cup noodles, and I’m really sorry it’s not more... but it’s all we can afford right now.” Leo looked up, his small face lighting with relief. “It’s okay, Ate. I’m hungry.” Aidan nodded, his usual quiet strength shining through. “Better than nothing.” I smiled and gave them a reassuring look. “I promise, next time we’ll have something better. I’ll work hard so we can eat good food again.” They both smiled back, their faith in me unshaken. Then Leo whispered, “Just don’t let us go back to that house. Please.” “Never,” I said firmly, feeling a fire ignite inside me. “Never again.” We sat on the floor around the small table, slurping the hot noodles quietly in the dim light of our little apartment. It wasn’t much, but it was ours—our first real moment of freedom. After the night settled in and my brothers were finally asleep, I still couldn’t rest. It was early, and the quiet of the apartment felt heavy with uncertainty. I decided to leave them in the care of our kind landlady, who had been quietly checking on them throughout the evening. She gave me a small, understanding smile when I asked if she could keep an eye on them while I went out. With a deep breath, I stepped out into the cool morning air and began applying for jobs. I knocked on doors, handed out my resume, and made phone calls, but everywhere I went, the answer was the same: no openings, no vacancies, or no experience. Just as I was about to give up, discouraged and exhausted, I spotted a beautiful flower shop tucked between two busy streets. The scent of fresh blooms filled the air, and the warm colors inside gave me a glimmer of hope. I hesitated but then stepped inside and asked if they were hiring. To my surprise, they said yes—looking for someone to take care of the shop’s plants, water the flowers, and keep everything tidy. It wasn’t the job I dreamed of, but it was honest work, and the salary was more than enough to cover our rent and food. I accepted immediately, grateful for the chance. As I walked back to the apartment, clutching the small letter of employment in my hand, I felt a flicker of hope. It was a small step, but it was ours. I would work hard. I would study. And I would make sure my brothers never had to go back to the nightmare we left behind. When I returned to the flower shop, I asked if I could speak to the owner for a moment before officially accepting the job. A middle-aged woman with gentle eyes and gardening gloves approached me with a warm smile. “I just wanted to explain something before we move forward,” I said, nervously wringing my hands. “I’ve been applying everywhere since early this morning, but no one wants to hire me… because I’m a student. They say I should focus only on work or only on school—but I can’t afford to choose just one.” I looked down for a second before continuing, “I need this job. I have two younger brothers depending on me. I can promise you I’ll give my best, but… will you still take me even if I’m studying at the same time?” The owner looked at me for a few moments, studying my face. Then, she smiled softly. The owner looked at me for a few moments, then smiled softly. “Yes, I’ll still take you,” she said kindly. “I can see you’re responsible, and that you’re doing everything you can for your brothers. That means something to me.” I blinked in surprise. “Really? You don’t mind that I’m studying too?” She shook her head. “Not at all. In fact, if it helps ease your mind, you’re welcome to bring your little brothers here whenever you have classes or even while you’re working. They can stay in the lounge area, play, study, or just enjoy themselves. We always have snacks in the back—and they’re free to eat anytime.” Tears welled up in my eyes, but I quickly blinked them away. “Thank you… thank you so much, ma’am.” She reached out and gently squeezed my shoulder. “You’re welcome, dear. Just do your best, and we’ll be fine. The flowers are happiest when they’re taken care of with love—and from what I can see, you have plenty of that to give.” That day, I started working at the flower shop. It wasn’t just a job. It was a second chance—a safe place for my brothers, and a step forward in the life we were trying to rebuild. And for the first time in a long while, I felt a quiet, blooming hope.