A Wife for Hire: The Trillionaire's Contract Wife
(Ryan)
Chapter Nine
A dark Chevrolet stopped in front of a large skyscraper. The doors opened, and a man walked out dressed in black suit, black pants and dark shades placed on his nostril. He walks out inhaling the fresh air directly into his lungs, his hands moving over his stubbles as he took in the entire environment.
A smile crept on his face.
At last.
He was back. He nodded to himself.
"The prodigal don is back." He muttered to himself a dark devilish smile run across his lips. He retrieved the cigarette stick from his pockets and lit it. Ryan puffed smoke out loud and watched as it mixes with the cool evening air. He rested in the car for a few minutes allowing himself to bask in the euphoria of his freedom.
It's been five good years. He lost the most crucial years of his life and he was ready to do whatever it'll take to climb those ladders. His destiny called. His mother used to say the world is designed for those strong enough to give what it takes and he was ready to take what is rightfully his.
The room changed the second he walked in. He threw the cigarette to the floor, and smashed it with his large shoes. His hands grabbed a bottle of whiskey laid on the table, poured into a glass and took a simple sip.
The door opened, and his bodyguard walked into the room one knee to the ground and his head bowed down in respect.
"Welcome back Don." He formally said his greetings.
"So tell me what has been happening during my absence, how's the business and my shares in the family business?" Ryna let loose a smile hanging on his lips. Ryan couldn't wait to get back into the major city and announce his return. The city he once ruled would be his once again. He hallucinated so much over the years, and each day he patiently waited counting down the days to hours, minutes, and seconds.
"Aaron..." His long time bodyguard, the one who picked him from the gates, and drove him here grew silent, hesitating to speak.
"Speak!" Ryan slammed his fist on the table. He had a bad temper that made all who approached him move and speak with caution carefully before engaging him. His temper moved like lightning too quick and ready to consume.
Ryan Buckley.
"Aaron bought your company while you were in exile. He controls the entire city, and businesses across the world. He's the most respected, richest and successful Buckley. He's the chain holding the businesses together."
"That bastard! He betrayed me!" Ryan went berserk and broke into a hard laugh filled with harsh rage, and contempt. Jealousy consumed him deeply. His heart cracked in his chest, he felt fire licking inside of his heart, the feeling of failure spun a web around him. His loss was Aaron's gain.
He left the chair he sat on with the glass of whiskey in hand. He took a sip, and sent the glass crashing across the immaculate walls. Broken glasses, liquid dripping from the walls, and sound of chaos permeated the air.
"Sadly I couldn't save it. I'm just an ordinary bodyguard. I had to run into hiding to save my neck hoping someday you'll return to claim what's rightfully yours."
"Where the fuck is Aaron?!" He thundered.
"I found his address. He lives in a private estate which he owns."
"Prepare my schedule. I'll be paying someone special a visit." He grinned wickedly.
*********
"Ryan?"
The old man took off his glasses. It came as a surprise. His lips shook, trembling. The peace, and quiet the family enjoyed so long was shattering right before his eyes.
"You're back." The words left distaste more with mixed emotions of grief and suppressed memories.
A proud smile spread across Ryan's face. He picked a cigarette stick from his pocket and lit it immediately watching his father's face fall into an unhappy sadness.
"How time flies father, it felt like yesterday. Life is a fucking bitch!" Ryan cussed smoking openly. He sat on the couch crossing his legs. His family moved on without him; nobody visited or cared to see him at the island. He was a mistake most of them wanted to erase mentally, and physically. And looking at his father's face he knew everyone had moved on, and forgot the date of his return or possibly they wished him dead. What an irony he survived.
"I fucking survived."
"Stop it Ryan no cussing!"
"Ground me for it? I'm a man. A full grown, and I can decide to cuss if I fucking want. You don't tell me what to do, old man."
"What are you back here to do?" The old man enunciated his words.
"Pentagon." He rose from the couch to where his father stood and whispered in his ears. "To claim what was mine dear father, to receive my birthright which was stolen from me. I'm ready father. I've realized my mistakes, and I'm ready to lead the business to greater heights. So call the rest of the family, don't I deserve a welcome party, the media should be here by now the king of the city is back."
"Hahahaha…it's never yours in the first place. The family business has survived generations, and you are the worst candidate to lead our family dynasty." Brandon replied. He took a magazine from the table and handed it over to Ryan. "Aaron is the rightful heir of Pentagon he has taken the business to an utopian level you can't dream of. You just got out of exile, familiarize yourself with the new world, and stay in your place."
Ryan's hand shook while reading the magazine. His blonde haired, light blue eyes family favorite brother was at the center of the magazines praising his awards, business exploits, and his trillionaire status the world youngest trillionaire. Ryan burst into rage, and tore up the magazine rapidly. His eyes were covered in dark rage, his nostrils flared and his chest rose up and down. Aaron has won over him again. The cunning and shrewd brother has taken over his right to be successor and while he was away rotting in exile he took advantage of his predicament and became king of the world.
"Aaron!" Ryan screamed, and threw a fit smashing his fist against the glass centre and broke it into pieces. Blood pooling from his knuckles didn't stop him from hitting the walls until a faint sound stopped him.
"You lost, he won so rot in hell." Brandon declared turning to leave. Ryan yanked him from behind, and had him falling to the floor slamming his head to the cold floor. Blood oozed from his lips and the cut on the head.
The door opened immediately.
"Get away from my father!" A chocolate brown haired lady hurried to Brandon lying on the floor almost unconscious. "Bloody monster!" She screamed out of her lungs directed at Ryan.
"My little sister violet." Ryan taunts.
She pointed a gun at him, her fingers reaching the trigger.