HI, MR BILLIONIRE

CHAPTER TWO: MUST SAVE HIM

ISLA’S POV

“This isn't the f*****g file I asked for?” Mathew yelled, slamming the brown file on the table, causing me to fidget as I raised my heavy eyes to look at him. They stung so badly because I hadn't slept well in two days. Every single time I closed my eyes, I found myself back there, watching him screw my mother. “You need to get your head back in the game, Isla. This is the fourth mistake you have made in a row. This company will not tolerate incompetent ones. Get your freaking self together or quit!” His face was etched in a frown. His short hair covered half of his forehead.

“I’m sorry, Sir. I…I will get it right. I will bring it and..”

“Get it to my office in ten minutes, or consider yourself fired!” Mathew thundered before storming off the anger.

Bitting on my lower lip, I squeezed my eyes shut and dragged in a breath while reminding myself to get it right this time. The screen from the laptop caused the stinginess to intensify, but I endured and pushed on regardless. I was editing the correct file carefully. I knew I couldn't make a mistake.

I ignored the first time my phone vibrated and eventually pulled it out on the second attempt, staring hard at the unknown number.

“Miss Isla, Theodore had an attack again, and he is at the hospital.” Lightning sped through me and shook every single sanity I had managed to muster.

“Which hospital?” I demanded, rising on my feet as I grabbed my car key. In a split second, I was running towards the car in the parking lot, ignoring the yelling of Mathew as my heart pounded hard against my chest.

Please be fine!!

I muttered, steering the wheel unquestioningly. My brain felt as though a fog had consumed it. My thoughts scattered and littered all around. All I could think of was my baby, clutching onto his chest for help.

The street was busy tonight as cars swamped the whole place, making it almost impossible, and all I could do was curse and yell as I tried to maneuver my way over the cars. Call me uncultured, but there was no way in hell I was going to let my baby die.

“Get off the road if you can't drive!!” It sounded nothing like my voice, but somehow, I was convinced it was due to my mouth opening and closing. My right leg wouldn't stop moving, and I bit on my left nail from time to time to stop myself from breaking down.

Suddenly, it went off. Letting out sounds as if it was an older man having his final moment. Candy, my Cream Corolla, gave up just barely fifteen minutes to the hospital. No matter how pumping into the wheel changed anything, not even when I moved the key over and over again. Letting out a frustrated yell as the drivers behind me honked and honked, I stepped out and gave it a good hit in the tire, only the effect bounced back on my leg.

The moment I caught sight of the first car, I pulled the door open and stepped in.

“I need a ride, please.”

“This is my car, not some Uber.” The tall, muscular, handsome, oval-faced man said with the most calm posture I had ever seen. He had a frown on, and yet he looked like he wasn't even trying to. His face had no wrinkle or any sign of ever undergoing any form of hardship. His Brown hair was trimmed to sit on the side of his head. His nose was pointed and shaped to perfection. The Black and Brown suit and pants complemented his skin so well that one would almost get jealous. For a brief second, I was washed offshore by embarrassment as my current image popped into my head.

Underbags with some touch of pimples that always popped out any time I was stressed.

“I really need this. If you please overlook this just this once and…”

“No! I have an important meeting to attend, so book a f*****g Uber if it is that important.”

And that was the issue. In Citylight here, you book cabs ahead, and time was a luxury I lacked. My phone vibrated and I pulled it out to stare at the screen. It was just an MTN message.

“I really need to get there. Can you please head to Moon Hospital? It’s so urgent.” I pleaded with the driver, who nodded in return.

“Sir?” I knew he needed permission. Maybe I was in the wrong here, but I was desperate. Placing my palms together, I sent him the pitiful look I could muster. His sea-blue eyes stared into mine and gave me the chills. How could he make Blue look so dangerous? Somehow, he sounded familiar. Like I had heard him somewhere, but I couldn't place a finger on it.

“Alright. The hospital first, then my important meeting.”

“Thank you! Thank you so much! I owe you.” I let out, bending slightly before turning towards the window. Getting down, I ran straight in, asking who would love to hear me where my son was.

“Theodore..” A sigh of relief fell past my lips the second my palms wrapped around his. My eyes dart over his thick Black hair and cute little face. “You give Mom a scare. I…” I pulled him in an embrace before I could complete the words, letting my tears fall off. “Thank you, Miss Grace. I can't thank you enough.” I said to his slender, tall teacher, who laughed it off gently.

“Theodore is my student, and I think he is better now, right Theodore.”

Thank you heavens. Thank you, stranger.

“I am fine, Mama. I told you I’m Superman, just like Daddy.” He mumbled, accompanied by his heartwarming yet heart-wrenching laughter because something gawked my heart and ripped it out.

I had lied and deceived my son into believing that his Father had died saving souls in the military. This I had to do to make him feel wanted. Feel whole. So he wouldn't stand out as the son I had from a one-night stand with a stranger at a masked party.

Back then, I was 17; I was young, stupid, and energetic. The urge to explore and be the youth I was had, however, brought into me the reason for my existence ever since he was born, ever since I heard his little cry.

“Miss Isla. Can I see you for a second?”

“Hmmm.” Giving the Doctor a nod, I turned towards my son. “Mama will be right back, okay?” Theodore nodded, and I patted his head gently, sending him a smile.

“Your son's condition worsened. He needs surgery as soon as possible, or he might have a slim chance of survival. His heart failure will only get worse if not taken care of….”

His words faded into thin air as a loud ringing went off in my ears. My tears rolled off, and a sharp pain traveled through my heart. I could hear the giggle of his teacher—the bubbling sound of his soul. And somehow, I had hoped that the universe would spare him more time.