A Trillionaire’s Revenge

CHAPTER 1



CHAPTER 1

"Bloody hell!" I yell as I barge into my room, fuming with rage, and angry tears welling up in the corners of my eyes. How dare Uncle Mark and father make a mockery of my choice of friends? I honestly wanted to give them a huge piece of my mind, but I'd been brought up in a decent way− it would be unladylike and extremely rude for me to speak rudely with the elders.

"Sweetheart!" My ever loyal and over pampering godmother, Ruth enters the room, obviously hoping to pacify me. NôvelDrama.Org owns all content.

"Aunt Ruth, can I please get some privacy? If you don't mind." I ask, in a composed tone. I really wanted to smash everything in the room. What right did my father and Uncle Mark have to insult José, just because he was black? They could have waited for him to leave the damned party before they passed on their disgusting comments about another human being! José was my guest and he had never wanted to come to my party, a party thrown by a group of racist aristocrats! I was beyond mad. How would I face José now? How would I apologize? How would I face the rest of the school? "It must be on LDN Rich & Famous already." I say as I cover my face with my pillows. Today was definitely not a pleasant day.

Waking up from my sleep, I still feel enraged. I had stayed in my room sleeping all day, ever since the incident with José occurred. I had intentionally refused to see Judith, my mother, nor would even dare see my father. I'd stayed in my room two days straight without food, merely surviving on the Oreos, apples and gummy bears I had left. I wanted to return to school, but I just couldn't find the strength to do so.

My university, Dubois C, wasn't a place where things were hidden for long, news didn't travel within twenty four hours, it travelled even before the incident occurred. Note the sarcasm.

Dinner that night was unusually quiet and calm, my father had not uttered a single word since I'd joined them at the table, and I was very glad. I couldn't bear the hunger anymore, so I'd decided to just give

up and feast my mouth on something appetizing. My mother seemed unbothered as usual, but I couldn't care less− I was used to Judith's indifferent behavior.

I am tempted to take a sip from the bottle of Moët champagne that lay before me, but fof reasons best known to my father, I wasn't allowed to take alcohol until my entry into womanhood, which was considered 20, in my family. I was a conservative girl at least, so many other girls I knew, about ninety nine percent of them who weren't even eighteen or above eighteen had been having sex and even having abortions too. In my own case, I'd promised herself that on the eve of my birthday I would have sex with Rocket, my long time boyfriend. Suddenly, I decide to retreat back to my room− the silence was annoying. My father didn't even have the decency to at least say something or even a damn 'I'm sorry' speech? Goodness! I would move out of the house the moment I clocked twenty one.

The next day, Judith, my money obsessed mother had failed in her miserable attempt to speak to me, well, not that I'd had given her the chance to speak anyway. Judith was obsessed with power and status. She wanted to stay on top the social tower forever and she would do anything to satisfy her vain desires. Although, she was not a racist like her husband, who had a baseless and biased judgment towards people of color. Judith and I weren't close. She'd thrown me into a boarding house at the tender age of five despite my pleas and requests. I'd lived most of my life away from home, at school.

**

I had decided to take a walk during the early hours of dawn, but sleep had coerced me into doing its bidding. Now, at about fifteen minutes to ten, I find myself in the pantry, doing the thing I loved most; writing reviews. I had been busy all through the semester and I had no time to even think of writing my reviews. I pick a can of cranberry sauce− one I'd never seen or had. I would write a review of it and whatever else I could get my hands on. After piling dozens of cans up, I begin with my laptop, writing reviews of the new spices Maggie, our chef had bought. With help from Maggie, I'm able to add a few dishes that could be made with the spices and sauces. No doubt, like every other time, I would be getting tons of 'Thank you' messages.

**

Days had passed and I was still not interested in speaking to my parents, I wanted my father to apologize for his racist comments and as for my mother, well, I wanted her to apologize for neglecting me all my life. I hadn't for once, felt the love and warmth of a mother.

"Natalie, your father needs you in the study." Lea, the help says as she enters my bedroom.

*

"Good morning, Daddy." I say, feeling awkward. My father and I were close, and deep down, I knew he was genuinely a good person. It was just too bad that Uncle Mark has influenced him in such a negative way.

"What I said, I know it hurt you. I'm sorry, princess." Judith enters the room.

"Harry, the Senator's here to see you. Go, get dressed. You look a mess." Judith says. I could hear a hint of anxiousness in her voice but I ignore it.

"Daddy?" I call.

"Yes, my dear?" He responds. I move closer to him.

"Are you okay? Your eyes are a bit jaundiced."

He smiles at me. "I just need some rest, Princess. Go, go have a walk in the garden. We'll have dinner soon."

**

Dad had gone to attend to the Senator, leaving me behind in his massive study. I begin to go through the books in the library. I could find something interesting to read.

A few minutes later, dad returns. "You're back." I say, observing his demeanor. This time, he looked pale and extremely tired.

"Your birthday, it's in two weeks isn't it?"

"Yes, on a Sunday."I say, a smile playing across my lips. The moment I'd been waiting for would finally come to pass in a matter of days, my night with Rocky.

"Alright. Get your I.V list ready, and let me know, okay?"

"Including José?" I ask, slowly observing his reaction..

"By all means, Natalie.It's your party, do as you please."

A week and four days later. . .


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