The Billionaire's Heirs: A Hilton Cove Tale

naged to pick up and gulped down a much needed mouthful of the chill liquid. I felt myself break out in cold sweat as I tried to recall the dream that awoke me, but it was li

metimes I get jealous of the people who had met him. It was so unfair. I was his daughter, and I had no inkling how he even looked like. People here weren't big on pictures, and paintings were too expensive. But it was a far fetched idea to think not one picture of my dad exists, so it must be Maa's doing. I've never talked to her about it. I doubt I ever will. It's hard to imagine how my dad, with how good and wonderful he was would settle with someone like Maa. Yes, Maa was undoubtedly the most beautiful woman I had ever seen, probably the most beautiful woman in all of the lower side (which helps her get alot of clients) and despite being well into her forties, so I can only imagine how beautiful she looked then in her younger years. But, she did not have one redeeming quality about her. She was mean, hateful, abusive and a misogynist. Hard to image being a misogynist despite being a woman, but Maa does it effortlessly. And despite being mother of two twin boys then, my father hadn't been deterred. They were never married, but people had said their love was nothing like they'd seen before. It was a tumultuous relationship, one that had more downs than ups. I often wondered if it was love at all or just a co-dependency born out of necessity. Though they hadn't ever separated even when maa got pregnant with me, he stayed. Only time he left her was when he died. Most expected Maa to be in grief and heavy depression, but she had already moved on with another man not two months after. She didn't even wait to give birth to her deceased husband's daughter before she was fucking another man. A man that also didn't even stay to see my birth. Man went through three men during her pregnancy with me and not one of them stayed. Despite how messed up and hateful she was, I loved Maa. I hated, loathed that I did. Maybe it was the tales of my father's goodness that kept me hoping for some glimpse of it in her. Or perhaps it was the longing for a mother's love that every child deserves. I couldn't help yearning for her approval, even though nothing I seemed to do was ever right, was ever enough. I decided to put those thoughts aside for now and focus on getting ready for the day. The bathroom was small, but it served its purpose. I quickly showered and got dressed, deliberately choosing an outfit that had nothing to do with the dress on the floor. I wore a thin flowy blouse and jeans that fit me snugly. After drying my hair and unsure what to do with the thick curls, I pulled it into a high ponytail, letting a few free so they'd frame my face. I didn't have a mirror to work with, and honestly I didn't care much.