The Billionaires Fake Marriage

Standing confidently in my sleek, modern office, overlooking the city skyline, the only thing I could think about was my parents.

It's been 5 years since my parents passed away, and my life hasn't remained the same. I wish they were here to see my tech company evolving into a multi-billion dollar empire. It has always been their dream to see me become this successful. They were alive when I started the company, now they're no more.

"Your parents just died in an auto crash," the news about their death still lives rent-free in my head.

At 28, I've accomplished more than I inte KOnded, but the absence of my parents still finds its way to haunting me.

What more could I have asked for? I am a rich, successful, beautiful, independent, and courageous woman. If I had the opportunity to turn back the hands of time, I would have stopped my parents from embarking on that trip that ended their lives.

My thoughts were, however, ruined by a knock on my door. It was a bad time for me to receive visitors, not when my head wasn't stable. I can't even think straight about saving my life right now. I feel like my whole world is crumbling right in front of me and I can't even do anything to save it.

I ignored the knock at my door and continued to wallow in grief. The more I ignored the knock, the more it kept coming. That was the moment I figured out that it might be important for me to get to the door.

"Come in already," I answered and rushed to get seated. From what I know, it might be a prospective client and I wouldn't want to be caught in an awkward state.

The best I could do was to put up a smiling face, regardless of what I might be growing through.

A moment later, the visitor walked inside my office. I frowned. I thought it would be an entirely different person.

"What do you want, Rachael?"

I rolled my eyes and looked away.

I indicated the chair across from my desk, which had a neat little row of pens and a framed picture of my parents on it. A soothing background noise that reduces pain is produced by the gentle hum of the air conditioner. I felt relieved for the first time in a very long time.

"Hello, ma'am?" Rachel waved at me. I got engrossed by the photo frame and forgot that Rachel was still in my office. I quickly focused my glance on her.

"What do you want, Rachael?" I frowned, my face pretending to be tough, but deep inside of me what I felt was a burning furnace.

"Ma'am, is anything the matter? You don't seem happy to me. If you don't mind sharing, I might be of help," Rachael asked. It was a nice gesture, but I didn't think it was ideal for me to share my private matters with anyone, let alone Rachel, who's just my assistant. We might share a cordial relationship, but certainly not to that extent.

"Is that what you came here for, Rachel? To spy on my private affairs?" I clapped back at Rachel as she shivered like a hen drenched by the rain.

" No, ma'am," she nodded her head in response and handed me a folder filled with documents. I knew that was what she came for, but I wanted her to say it and stop beating around the bush like a lost soul.

"Great! Drop it on the desk and shut the door after you," I authorized her.

Rachel didn't make a move. She stood in front of me with her hands buried behind her.

"Okay? What are you still doing here? I thought I asked you to leave?'"

" Yes, you did.

I just needed to be certain if you would want me to do anything for you," she asked me with a shaky voice.

I observed something fishy in her utterances. It wasn't just about her loyalty; I was convinced that she had something to say but found it difficult to navigate through.