The billionaire secret scars

I stared blankly at the horrible eviction notice lying freely in my hands, my chest rhythmically tightening as the big, bold, yet cruel FINAL WARNING screamed unjustly back at me. My fingers on their own, trembled slightly as I tried to read it again, wishing—praying—that maybe, just by chance, I had misread it while in a hurry, or my head was playing pranks on me. No, that wasn't the case. I hadn’t made any mistakes. The homeowner was not taking it any longer, he was done being patient and all kind. The rent was long overdue last month. My fridge willingly decided to give up on me three days ago. And the most dangerous of them all, my younger brother's tuition? Let’s just put it that the university management was just one email away from doing what is necessary, which is kicking him out. I shut my eyes tightly as I sucked in a deep but frustrating breath. Think smart and fast, Ava. Think now. The universe and nature couldn’t possibly despise me to this extent, right? As if on cue, my phone spontaneously vibrated on the almost faded out wooden table. I groaned impatiently. If this vibration was yet another bill reminder, then I would be left with no choice than to throw my phone out the window. Anything to keep it silent. Sophie’s name immediately flashed on the broken screen. I hesitated for a moment. I loved everything about my best friend, but unfortunately, I wasn’t in the mood to hold a healthy conversation, to get to listen to one of her “Don’t overthink things, don't worry, babe, everything will be fine soon, besides, things happen for a reason” nonsense pep talks. But still, I had to answer, as I was clearly stuck with her. "Hey, beautiful Ava!" Sophie chirped happily, her soft voice way too cheerful to fit in into my current nature afflicted misery. "How have you been? How have you been holding up lately?" I suddenly burst out in a humorless laugh. "Oh, that's really fantastic. Just living with the best of my unwanted horrible dream. My homeowner is all ready to send me packing into the dry streets, my fridge, on the other hand, has given in, highly skilled on a hunger strike, and Noah’s unavoidable tuition deadline is just by the corner. How about we face everything together like a big family?" Sophie suddenly released a gasp dramatically, forgetting she wasn't supposed to joke about my condition. "Wait, so you are saying you couldn't land the job at Harrington & Co. again?" "Nope, a mess happens. Apparently, they complained that I was of no use to them, as they needed someone with 'more experience.'" I made a dramatic air quote, even though I knew there was no way she could see my demonstration. "I’ve been literally working as young as I can remember. I can say it's since I was fifteen, Sophie! What more experience could they be expecting other than that? Do I, for no reason, need to be a sixty-year-old corporate war veteran, decorated with visible battle scars, and an award-winning PhD in surviving capitalism or harsh economy?" Sophie sighed, almost more frustrated than me. "Well…but looking on the brighter side, at least, I can say you’re like among the—” “If you dare say ‘dead,’ I will do everything within my power to hunt you down.” She cackled hilariously. “Okay, okay, you've got me! No need to harbor toxic positivity today of all days. But listen, babe, I think I might have something to cheer you up. It's a juicy job offer.” I sat up abruptly on hearing that, so fast I almost couldn't hold my phone. “Did you just say a job? Hope this isn't one of your many expensive jokes?” Sophie hesitated for a minute. "Well… it’s no other place but the Blackwood Enterprises." The excitement bubbling in my stomach vanished instantly. My grip tightened even more around my phone. "Blackwood Enterprises of all places?" I asked. "As in, the ruthless Lucas Blackwood?" "Exactly, sweetheart, the one and only." I groaned in frustration. "Sophie, I can differentiate between a job and a death sentence." She laughed, and I wished she had been with me to receive a beating. "Oh, come off that! It’s not much, just a simple position of a personal assistant. I'm certain you’ll be fine in the end." I jumped out of my skin as I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Sophie, how? This is Lucas, not your regular Lucas, but Freaking Blackwood we’re talking about. The man who effortlessly makes Ceo's cry. The one who, one time, reportedly fired one of his employers because he sneezed, complaining it was too loud." "That’s definitely an exaggeration, you know." "Really, is it now?" "… Okay, I get it, I maybe not as I made it look. But listen, girl, this is a one-time opportunity, your golden ticket to riches! If not for anything, consider the money, the security involved—what magic could it do for Noah’s tuition in just one paycheck! I know Noah is on the top list of your priorities right now." I chewed my lip aggressively. Damn him! Sophie knew the right button to hit. My Noah. My baby brother, I'm like a parent to him. I'm his everything. After our parents tragically passed away, I took it as my responsibility to keep him safe. I didn't mind working three jobs, even to the point of sacrificing everything concerning my own dreams, forsaking everything, fighting tooth and nail just to ensure he never witnessed the harshness or the absence of our parents. And right now? I was not close to fulfilling that promise to him. I took a glance at the eviction notice once again. Then inside my fridge, which had nothing reasonable but expired yogurt and shattered hope. Then another glance at my phone, to receive a credit alert, but none. "Fine, you win" I muttered. "Where do I apply for it?" Sophie squealed, maybe out of joy. "Oh no, babe, it doesn't work like that. No need to apply. You can only keep the job if you survive the interview." I frowned, unsure of what she meant. "What exactly are you talking about?" "It means that…that..." She paused, and I could guess it was to give room for a dramatic effect. "Lucas Blackwood, the ruthless billionaire, does not follow the normal pattern for getting a job. He developed the habit of firing assistants within a month, that's if you last more than a day." I nearly crashed my phone. "What did I just hear?!" "Yup, you heard right. No one with that position lasts. Some, unfortunately, don’t even make it to see him face to face. That's how terrible it is." I rubbed my temples nervously. "You’re telling me that in order to be financially secured, I have not only babysit a grown man, but sold my rights in the process. I would condone a grown man with the personality of an expired lemon, just because of what I would get in return?" Sophie giggled, clearly not bothered. "Pretty much, that's how it works." "You’re terrible at being a best friend, the worst ever in existence." I fired back, amused at her suggestion. "And you, my sweetheart, are broken beyond recognition. See you after the wonderful experience at the interview, babe!" The call abruptly ended, and I knew she would roast me if I didn't give it a shot. I exhaled slowly at the information I had just received, staring at the ceiling. I was confused about what to do. This would be either the best or worst decision I have made sense my existence. But immediately my eyes landed on Noah’s framed picture on my shelf. I needed no advice from anyone. I know one thing— I would walk through the most scorching fire if that was the only way of keeping him safe. Even if that fire bears the most terrifying name; Lucas Blackwood.