Jacob's daughter
1290 Words
ELLA MIA
He stood before me, arms crossed over his chest, his deep, resonant voice breaking the silence. “How may I assist you?”
I quickly rose to my feet and extended my hand in greeting. “I’m Ella Mai.” To my dismay, he chose to overlook my gesture, leaving me to awkwardly withdraw my hand.
“So, you’re Jacob’s daughter?” he inquired, raising an eyebrow while gesturing for me to take a seat. I complied only after he settled into his chair. I nodded in affirmation.
“And what brings you here, Ella?” The way he spoke my name sent a whirlwind of butterflies through my stomach.
After swallowing hard, I mustered the courage to reply. “I have a proposal concerning my father’s debt.” My voice quivered with trepidation.
A brief silence followed before he answered, “I’m all ears.” casually crossing his legs.
“Please, grant me two years to repay my father’s debt. I’ll secure two jobs to cover it." I pleaded earnestly.
His chin rested on his hand, his penetrating gaze making me feel utterly exposed.
“No.” he replied with unwavering firmness.
“I can work for you until the debt is cleared.” I urged, hoping for a more favorable response.
"You." He pointed a long, slender finger at me, scanning me from head to toe, and replied, “No, thank you.”
We held a tense gaze until I sighed heavily, breaking the silence.
“Please, sir. Our business is already defunct. The only remnant is the debt we owe you. For now, I can offer you my savings and find a job to settle the amount.” I implored once again.
“Tell your father I want my money.” he said, glancing at his expensive watch. “If you would excuse me, I have a business to manage. Please leave my mansion now.” His tone was icy as he stood and adjusted his suit.
At that moment, an elderly woman in a wheelchair approached, appearing frail and unwell.
“Son.” she called softly.
The man I had come to know as a cold-hearted mafia figure turned to the old woman, his expression softening; I finally saw a flicker of warmth.
“Yes, Grandma.” he said, kneeling to kiss her forehead.
An idea sparked in my mind.
“What’s wrong with her?” I asked, curiosity overtaking me.
“That’s none of your business.” he snapped sharply, sending a chill down my spine.
What is wrong with this man? I wondered. Perhaps the rumors about him were true.
The old woman tapped her grandson gently on the shoulder. “Chase, stop it.” she warned him with a steely gaze before turning to me. “I’ve been in and out of the hospital, and they can’t identify the problem. I feel weak and ill every minute.”
If looks could kill, Chase would have struck me down right then. But I focused my attention on the old woman instead.
“My mother is knowledgeable about herbs. Since the doctors couldn’t find a solution, perhaps herbal remedies could help.” I offered with confidence.
“Really?” she asked, her eyes lighting up with a glimmer of hope.
I nodded, pride swelling within me.
Chase stood up abruptly, fixing his gaze on me. “I’ve taken her to the best doctors, and they’ve failed. Yet you believe in herbs?” His tone dripped with skepticism.
I nodded again and replied. “Yes, she can heal with those herbs. My mother taught me about them since I was a child, and we’ve helped others who felt hopeless after visiting doctors without success.” I smiled widely, hoping to instill some confidence.
He stepped closer and inquired. “Do you have those herbs with you?” His demeanor had shifted to calm, catching me by surprise.
“No, but I can…” I began, but he raised his hand to interrupt.
“How about the deal?” he asked.
“Deal?” I murmured, my voice barely a whisper.
“Yes. If you can restore my grandmother’s health and help her walk again, I will forget about the debt.”
“Really?” I asked, fighting back tears as my voice trembled.
“Only if my grandmother returns to her former self.” he concluded coldly.
“Servant.” he called out.
“Yes, sir?” came the reply.
“Prepare food and a room for Miss Mai.” he instructed, readying himself to leave.
“Sir.” I called after him.
He halted, not even glancing my way, and responded coldly. “Yes?” with one hand tucked into his pocket.
“But I don’t have the herbs with me.” I admitted, lowering my gaze.
He summoned another servant, instructing her. “Pack my bag and Mrs. Banker’s bag; we will be departing soon.”
“We?” I echoed, confusion evident on my face.
“Yes, we. I have a mansion and a business there, so I’ll work from the city until you complete healing my grandma.” he stated before walking away.
I mouthed an “O” in realization.
Dinner was served, and I was escorted by the servant to a room twice the size of mine. It was lavishly furnished, with gold and red curtains, a spacious walk-in closet, and a large window overlooking the bustling streets. The king-sized bed could easily accommodate five people. Compared to my home, this room felt like a palace.
A knock on the door interrupted my thoughts. “Come in.” I called, revealing the servant who held a set of luxurious clothes resembling nightwear.
“Mr. Banker instructed me to give you these.” she said.
I accepted them, surprised to find they fit perfectly.
“How did he know my size?” I asked, furrowing my brow.
“Well, Mr. Banker has a woman who is the same size as you.” she replied.
“But I haven’t seen her.” I admitted, puzzled.
The servant glanced around, ensuring no one was eavesdropping, and explained. “Mr. Banker has a girlfriend chosen by his mother, but he was furious and dismissed her.”
How interesting.
“And where is Mr. Banker’s mother?” I inquired.
She sat beside me on the bed and elaborated, “Mrs. Banker lives in the city where Mr. Banker is taking his grandmother. She is ruthless and makes all the decisions for her children.”
“Children?” I echoed.
“Yes, miss. She has three: two sons and one daughter.”
'Oh that guy that came into our home.' I thought.
“Chase is the eldest, followed by Liam, and the daughter is Stella. The two boys are unmarried, while Stella is currently married. However, Mrs banker husband divorced her due to Mrs. Banker’s harsh demeanor. Mr. Banker pleaded with his mother to send the lady named Olga away, but Mrs. Banker insisted that he would learn to love her and that Olga would remain until they wed.”
As we continued our conversation, a cough interrupted us.
The cold mafia figure stood at the door, his piercing gaze making me feel small.
“You two.” he pointed at us. “are merely workers here, and I detest gossip about my personal affairs.” His voice was laced with anger.
“I’m so sorry, sir. It won’t happen again.” I stammered, trembling under his scrutiny.
He cast one final glare at us before exiting.
“Miss, it’s getting late. You should get some rest.” the servant advised.
I nodded, resolved not to find myself in a situation like that again.
- Writer
