Hired As The Crippled Billionaire's Caregiver

“Are you blind?” were the words that echoed in Nella's ears after she mistakenly bumped into a man in a wheelchair being pushed by a slim-looking man with bald hair. But instead of apologizing, Nella, with her eyes drenched in tears, fired back with her sharp-witted mouth. “How about you stop occupying this corridor like you own it. By the way, you are not the first to sit in a wheelchair.” Elliott raised his eyebrows, shocked to the bone, but intrigued at how a timid-looking lady could talk back at him. Before he could recover from his shock and respond, Nella had zoomed off. Nella wasn't in the mood for banter. Something more important to her was at stake… Her only sibling Nathaniel, who was the only family that Nella had left after their parents were involved in a plane crash four years ago. He had just been wheeled into the theater for an immediate operation. She felt like her heart could jump out of her chest. Her world was on the verge of collapsing within just minutes. For the past two months, her spirit and soul have been troubled. It was a busy day at the restaurant. Nathaniel brought all his cheerfulness to the restaurant that day and cooked while Nella was serving the customers. Nathaniel ended up standing for eight hours cooking that night. They were both drained and tired when they got home. Then Nathaniel subtly started complaining of a pain in his left knee. Nella quickly dismissed him and concluded that it was due to the stress from the restaurant. This wasn't the first time Nathaniel had been standing for that long, so he knew that the pain was different. The complaints became intense after three days, so he decided to go for a quick check-up at the hospital. He was asked to come for the result after two days. So he returned to the restaurant with the test results after two days as the doctor had instructed. “Why is your mood like this?” Nella asked after suspending the dishes that she was washing to go tend to her brother's feelings. Nathaniel couldn't get his emotions under control anymore, so a grown-up man burst into hot tears. “Nella, it is cancer…” Nathaniel said with the words barely escaping his mouth. Nella couldn't believe her ears. It felt like she was drowning. “How can Nathaniel have cancer?” These were the words that were resounding in her head. She wrapped her arms around Nathaniel’s neck and they both drenched themselves in tears. They were about to start a journey that they were very unsure how it was going to end, so Nathaniel had to commence treatment immediately. He completely went bald after pulling out some of his hair in the bathroom. The chemotherapy journey started and all their savings started disappearing bit by bit. She was completely drenched in tears and just sat down on the floor, leaning on the door leading to the theater, crying herself into a stupor, with no one to console her. Thomas, Elliott's driver, helped him into his car and they headed home. Elliott was still thinking of how the timid girl had just embarrassed him in front of his driver. He was already fuming inside. “Is it because I'm in a wheelchair that gave that brat the effrontery to talk to me like that?” he thought to himself. His phone beeped, he pulled off his phone to check it and his eye caught the date: “Wednesday, 20 February.” Hmmmm….he breathed down, still holding his phone in his hands, “It was exactly eight months ago…” Elliott told his driver that he could go home as he would be staying late at work, when he was finally ready to go home, he had packed his briefcase when a heavy downpour pushed him to sit down and wait a bit longer, so he took that opportunity to complete the draft he was working on. The rain finally stopped, he entered his Rolls-Royce Cullinan and started driving home. It was a very cold evening. Just along the tarred road before Biltmore Estate, he didn't notice anything was wrong at first, it was a normal drive. His mind was wandering about the way Sebastian reacted in the office when he asked Sebastian to return the company's stamp to his table–he didn't see it as anything, but his guts were not just fine with it. He tapped the brake, but the car didn't slow down. He frowned slightly and tapped again, but tapped very firmly this time. Still, nothing changed, the car didn't slow down either. “I thought the mechanic checked this car on Saturday,” he thought to himself and frowned a lot. He tapped harder again but this time, the brake pedal became very fragile with no resistance or response of any kind. It dawned on him at this point that something was wrong. Fear crept in and his chest tightened. He tried the handbrake and the car jerked with the tires screeching loudly, but the car was still moving fast. Then he saw a woman and her child trying to cross the road. His heart dropped and he aggressively turned the steering wheel to his right, his life flashed before his eyes as his car drove right into the traffic pole, metals crashing and glass clanging against each other, the steering wheel pressed heavily against his chest and his knees, everything else went silent. He blinked slowly, and before he blacked out completely, he came to the realization that he hadn't lost control of the brakes by mistake, something had taken it away from him. Sir..Sir… Elliott jerked “Have been calling you for a while, sir.” Elliott looked at his driver, completely lost in what to say. He looked at the wheelchair that his driver had placed on the floor in front of him. The wheelchair was now his reality. “We are home Sir, let me help you down.” “So I have become useless to the extent of being taken down from a car like a bag of onions,” Elliott hissed in frustration. He shifted towards the wheelchair and his driver helped him seat in the wheelchair, then he pushed him towards the tall iron door at the entrance of his house. It was a big room, furnished with plush chairs and a golden chandelier, hanging down from the center of the sitting room. “Oh dear, you're back already. How did it go?” An aged woman with a bit of grey hair and glasses, looking like she had just got off the phone when she saw the door knob being turned. She smiled towards Elliott as she stood up from the chair and approached them. She was Martha Blackwell, Elliott's mom. She took over the wheelchair from Thomas and pushed her son towards his room. The house was filled with long stairs, so Elliott's room had been relocated downstairs for obvious reasons. “I just got off the phone with her and I invited her for dinner tomorrow” Elliott stopped in his wheelchair and turned to his mum. “I don't want to see her.” “It's too late, my love. I have already invited her to dinner, and she is coming. Prepare yourself to welcome her when she steps into this house,” Martha told Elliott without blinking her eyes. Elliott looked straight into his mom's eyes, already becoming furious from his look. “Mom, don't push me again, I can help myself,” he said, rolling the wheelchair tires into his room, he turned the door handle, pushed himself inside and slammed the door behind him.