Becoming My Billionaire Boss Wife

* Andrea *

Working all day, I kept wondering when I’d be allowed to go home.

Finally, Mr. King called across the intercom to tell me to go home.

Tsk…He could at least offer to ride me home, that's what a gentleman would do.

After only three months of knowing him, I knew he would never do that.

Packing my belongings, I got a cab and headed home.

Ever since I started working for Mr King, I’ve become accustomed to returning home fatigued, burdened with his meetings and personal issues.

********************************

I was finally home after a long day at work and a lot of shouting from my Boss. Working for him over the past few months has been horrible.

“Momma, I'm back. Is dinner ready?” I called out, hoping for a reply but was met with silence.

After a few minutes of no reaction, I walked upstairs to her room and found her sleeping. She looked so frail.

I felt a pang of guilt as I realized how much she'd aged since papa's death.

I found Lisa and Laurel asleep when I went to their room as well.

I haven’t been able to have a family dinner ever since I started this work.

Things had become too difficult when our father died in that tragic accident. Momma became ill and could no longer work.

I had to try various part-time jobs just to support myself and the family.

“Where are you papa? I missed you ...momma does and your little twins too.” I mumbled silently with a cracking voice as I dragged my tired feet downstairs for food.

They say everything happens for a reason but what may be the reason for my papa's death?

“Grrh”

My stomach rumbled, reminding me that I needed to eat. Eating in my formal clothing has somehow become my habit.

After dishing my food from the pot, I sat down and began digging in.

“Mm..this is good. I didn't even get anything better to eat because I was busy. Goodness! This work will undoubtedly be the end of me.”

Once I finished eating, I headed to my room, took a shower and fell asleep once my back hit the bed.

Tomorrow will be a long day.

**********************************

“Andrea, wait for me here and I will get an ice cream for you and your sisters.”

Papa ordered his voice sharp as usual. I requested an ice cream and wanted to get some for my sisters at home too.

“But papa, I want to go with you. I'd want to choose a very delicious flavor for Lisa and Laurel.” I pleaded, eager to be part of it.

He frowned with cold eyes.

“Listen, little girl, I merely volunteered to buy the ice cream to make your mom happy. Do not assume I am doing this for you.”

Tears threatened to fall, his voice stung as they always did.

“Don't be stubborn and wait here.”

“But papa-” I could not finish the sentence as my father was already gone.

As a little girl, I was aware of traffic restrictions, and when my father decided to cross, it was safe.

I saw it- a speeding automobile, too fast to stop.

“Papa!!” I called to grab his attention but it was too late; the vehicle hit him and he fell with a thud, in a pool of blood.

“Papa!” I screamed, my voice breaking. The vehicle had already sped off leaving my father lying motionless on the ground.

*********************************

Waking up to the shrill sound of the alarm, I found myself drenched in sweat. The same nightmare every single night.

The experience was traumatic and even now, years later, I can't help but feel like I’m in a way responsible for my father's death.

We were all at home when 14-year-old me suddenly craved Ice cream one evening.

Momma had promised to buy it the next day but I stubbornly refused.

Dad asked mom to take care of my younger sisters while we stepped out a bit.

Growing up, dad never showed much affection towards me.

Whenever I asked mom why, she would always say, “he's busy making sure we can move to NYC, sweetheart.”