Billionaire's Affection

Chapter three

I gathered all the orders in the paper bag and had both hands full as I made my way out of the restaurant. I was in a hurry, trying to navigate through the sea of people on the streets. As I walked, I ran and walked again earning concerned stares from people on the road. I was determined to get to the office early and escape Miss James’ usual complaints this time as I clutched the paper bags tightly as though my life depended on it.

I was trying to round the corner that led to the entrance of the company when I suddenly felt a forceful impact like I collided with a wall that sent everything flying. The impact caused the coffee to erupt from the cups like a mini volcano. I bent down quickly on reflex hoping to get a few cups that were still intact.

Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw a black briefcase on the floor soaked with coffee with its content spilling out.

I slowly looked up and then I saw him. My mouth suddenly experienced an unexplainable lack of saliva and my heart suddenly skipped a bit. I convinced myself it was from the adrenaline rush.

He was staring right back at me with anger morphed into his well-structured face and an icy glare that seemed to intensify within seconds. My heart sank as I saw the coffee stain splattered all over his impeccably tailored suit that looked like the price could pay my rent for the next 20 years.

I quickly stood up feeling the weight of embarrassment wash over me. As I was about to mutter an apology, his next words halted my words.

“See what you’ve done, you clumsy t**t!”

“What did you just call me?” I hissed with emphasis on each word as I matched closer to him and glared at his towering figure.

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ETHAN’S POV

I heard a gentle knock on my hotel room door and knowing who it was, I asked him to come in.

Immediately, the door opened and my bodyguard, Leo, stepped in, wearing a serious expression like he always does.

“The plane is here and ready for departure Sir.”

“Already? I’ll be done here shortly and we’ll leave soon.”

Leo nodded, his eyes scanning the room.

“Do you need anything else Sir?”

“No. Just make sure everything is in order. I’ll gather the rest of my belongings and meet you downstairs.” I said as I dismissed him with a wave.

With that, Leo left the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts. As I gathered the documents on the work desk and packed my suitcase, I couldn’t help the wave of disappointment that washed over me reminding me of why I came to France in the first place.

I came here two weeks ago hoping to close a huge deal that would have been a game changer for Kreigs Establishment. I was so sure about us getting the contract and I still don’t understand how it slipped through my fingers.

I worked closely with my team, analyzing market trends, conducting thorough research, and crafting compelling presentations to showcase the benefits of this collaboration even before I traveled to France.

And even when I arrived here, the negotiations were seamless and smooth. Countless meetings were held, both in formal boardrooms and over lavish dinners, which I spent a lot of money on by the way. And they seemed convinced. So you can imagine my shock when I got an email three days ago saying the contract had been given to another company that offered better benefits. For the past few days, I tried negotiating with them but it all fell on deaf ears and now I wonder how I will face the board of directors and, most importantly, how will I face my father?

I can already imagine the look of disappointment he will have on his face and the way he will shake his head as if to tell me I have failed him. He would remind me of how hard he worked to build his company, how he expected more from me, and how he made me the CEO because he trained me to be a better man than him.

Growing up, my father’s sole purpose was to prepare me to take over the family business and I never had a chance to have a normal childhood. Since I moved in with my father at the age of ten, I was immersed in a world of meetings, negotiations, and high expectations, which only intensified my hate for him, and with every passing day, my resentment for him grew.

The hate I felt towards my father started the day he left my mother and me, choosing to be with his pregnant mistress instead. I was seven years old at the time and I had no understanding of what was going on.

It started from the nights he would come home drunk out of his mind, the arguments and fights that would have me staying at our neighbors’ apartment. Then one day, he decided not to come home. One day turned to two and two days turned to three. Weeks passed and months passed.

I remember the look on my mother’s face the day I asked where he went and when he would come back home.

She looked at me with tears in her eyes and said

“Your father left us, baby. He left and he is not coming back.”