Revenge of The Furtive Billionaire Heir by Ryker Helios

Chapter 6

I don’t want to go there…

My father and I didn’t talk much that night. The level of awkwardness between us was embarrassing. I knew that he was nearly bursting with all the questions he wanted to ask me and all the things he wanted to tell me. Our relationship was never the best, but I don’t think it’s been this strained. Father tells me that we both need to handle this carefully, so he will be giving me enough space.

Fine by me. I am in no hurry to venture through this particular no-man’s land.

***

The next morning, I’m mildly startled by the unfamiliar surrounding as I wake up but before I can panic the memories of the night before flood my mind. I sit silently on the bed as I go through them, one by one as not to overwhelm myself. The hurt I feel is significantly less, but not enough to be called faded.

I really don’t want to go to school today. I don’t want to face whatever awaited me there.

But the other choice was to stay here in this house and face my father.

The choice is easy when comparing the options.

Dressing up in my normal university clothes, I silently collect my bag to slip out of the house. The mansion is far more beautiful in the morning light than in the night, and I feel a pang as it brings forth past memories that I’d rather keep buried.

My plan to sneak out of the house is, however, crushed by Gerald, who stands near the front doors, shooting me knowing glances.

I sigh, “It’s too early for this.”

you’re talking about, Young Master,” Gerald replies haughtily, “I’m just here to give

“And I can use the

Good luck,”

heel and walks away. I walk to follow him, but suddenly, my phone starts

take it out. Who is calling me at this hour? The number

this is Jace Greyson,” I

know if you recognize me, but we went to the same high school and I

really place a face for that name. Nonetheless,

How

fine, thank you. I was calling you to notify you of the Annual Alumni Association meeting happening later this afternoon.

I mutter, remembering the call from last year, “I’m sorry about that. I was so

are a

She rattles off the address of the venue and makes me promise that I would try to make it. I agree half-heartedly

my junior year. I was a right mess after her passing, from which I still haven’t recovered. Regrettably, I’ve turned to numbing my

death, I was so angry at everything and everyone. My father reached out to me, but I lashed out. I protested any of his attempts to help, and eventually broke contact with him. I did not want him or his family

meeting, but I am quite curious about my former classmates. With my job gone,

think, what’s the worst that could

***

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