BETROTHED TO THE BILLIONAIRE

Valerie’s POV

Tangled in the comforter of Ryan’s bed as my eyes open, a throbbing pain hits my head, reminding me of my hangover and what happened last night.

Before I can think too deeply about it, I see a glass of water and two medicine on the side drawer that will help with the hangover. I quickly take it to gulp it down while sitting upright.

I feel sore and I remember it all.

I remember how he made passionate love to me last night and how his warm body felt against mine. I remember how he worshiped every part of my body and made me conscious of them. I remember how he kept on muttering my name and how beautiful I am.

I remember how he was patient enough for me to reach the climax alongside him.

I feel like I know a lot about sex because I read about it, we talk about it with Brenda but this feels different.

Despite the bright smile that spread to my face, I feel a bit strange now that I have finally lost my virginity.

I know it is worth losing it to Ryan more than any other man. Besides, he is my husband. But something doesn’t feel right.

As I step my foot down on the rug beside the bed, I ponder over what is missing, my headache subsiding till my phone begins to ring.

This is when I see a note on the side drawer with my hand holding it down.

I pick both up; my phone and the small piece of paper which has Ryan’s handwriting on it.

“Last night was amazing. I love you, Valerie.”

I smile and turn to my phone to see his mother’s name flashing across the screen. I pick it up immediately.

“Mother?”

“Valerie…”, she trails off and coughs, her voice too low for me to hear what she is saying. I rise as fear grips me. “Valerie, come home.”

“Come home? Are you ok?” I ask as I move to the closest to grab something to wear.

“Yes, I’m fine. I just need to see you”, she mutters, almost in a whisper.

“I’ll be there in a jiffy”, I say and disconnect the call. When I pull out a nice gown, I drop it on the bed alongside my phone, ignoring the pain in between my legs as I rush to the bathroom.

I made sure water washes through every part of my body to ease the soreness in my inner body before coming out of the bathroom. I dry out my hair hurriedly, apply the lotion on my body and wear the gown.

I find a flat shoe to wear, and grab my purse, phone, and car key before running out.

I don’t know what is wrong with her but I am sure she isn’t fine like she said she is. Should I call Ryan and inform him that I am going to his mother’s place?

He must be busy at work. I shouldn’t trouble him since I don’t know what happened. I don’t bother to look for any of the maids before rushing to the front door.

Within minutes, I am seated in front of the steering wheel and I pull the car engine to action before driving off in the direction of his parent’s mansion.

I keep counting numbers as my heart races in fear that she is about to die till I get to the mansion. I drive into the automatic gate roughly and park carelessly before jumping down to race for the front door.

The whole place is empty, I notice as I glance around for the sight of someone.

I venture fully into the mansion, taking slow steps as fear grips me, not for her but for me. What is happening? Why do I have an ill feeling about coming here? Did something bad happen to her already? Did she pass out? Why is no one at home?

When I get to the living room to see no one in sight, I hurriedly take the staircase up to search the rooms. I need to know what the hell is happening before calling Ryan. I don’t want to trouble him for anything; not just based on my assumptions that something isn’t right.

I search the first two rooms but they are also empty. When I pull the third door open, I see her lying on the bed with her mouth open and her eyes slightly open too.

“Mom?” I rush over to her side and she stretches her hand weakly for me to take with a sad smile on her face.

“You came?” It sounds like a question. Not a statement so I nod.

“Where is everyone? What happened? Are you ok?” I bombard her with questions, relief washing through me that a tiny bit of my assumption is wrong; she isn’t fine but she is still alive.

She nods and tries to sit up but she begins to cough out blood.

Goodness! I gasp and quickly stand up to help her sit down in the bed.

“Water”, she mumbles as she hacks a cough, making the veins of her neck region pop up.

I stare in horror for a while before running to her dresser to grab a glass. There are two empty glasses on the dresser but they have two different colors, making me gaze at the two to note the difference.

They are both white glass cups but there is a darkish color settling at the bottom of the second glass cup while the first one has a small portion of water inside.Copyright Nôv/el/Dra/ma.Org.

“Water”, I hear her say again and I tear my eyes off the glass cups, grab the first one, and rush to the fridge to get a bottle of water.

I get out another cup and pour out the remaining water in the glass cup into it before rising and pouring water into the cup for her to drink.

I take it to her and she gulps it down in one go.

My eyes shift back to the second glass cup and I ask her. “What is that?”

She looks up at me before turning towards the direction of my pointed finger. “Fruit Juice.”

“Fruit juice?” I say more to myself. This doesn’t look like fruit juice at all. Instead of asking her more questions, I begin to amble towards the dresser again, my attention on the glass cup.

This color looks familiar. It feels like I have seen something like this before. For no reason, I feel so unsafe. I also feel she is unsafe for taking some time like this.

What fruit juice has a color like this?

Before I get to the dresser, her voice stops me. “Ryan told me the bad news”, she says as I turn to her with curiosity.

“Bad news?” she nods and flashes me another sad smile.

“The baby. He told me the baby is gone and you two are trying…”

“The baby?” I cut her short in confusion before it dawns on me that I am faking a pregnancy and she must be talking about the pregnancy.

What then does she mean by the baby is gone? What did Ryan tell her?

“Just take your time to heal, ok? Don’t think too deeply about it and I’m sure another baby will come soon, ok?”

Now I know it. His conscience is still judging him that we lied to his mother about my pregnancy. Maybe this is why he came up with the idea of having a miscarriage to make up for our sins.

Again, he did this without informing me.

Without giving it much thought, my attention shifts back to the glass cup as numerous questions pop into my head but I can’t ask her because I don’t want to get her upset or frightened.

Who gave her this? Who is home with her? Where is everyone? Where are the maids?

I get close to the dresser and grab the glass cup, lifting it to see more of the darkish color.

It reflects in the mirror, showing a mixture of darkish and reddish colors, confusing me more as I try harder to figure out where I have seen something like this.

“Val…” she calls.

I do not answer. I don’t want to be distracted. The idea seems to be coming. Where do I know this from? Or where I saw it from.

Roses.

Yes. I saw this in the movie, Roses.

Realization dawns on me and I gasp when it suddenly hits me what this mixture really is.

Poison.

Slow poison.

Made from flowers.

Before I can turn back to begin my rounds of questions on how this got here and who gave it to her so I can inform Ryan as soon as possible, something hard hits me from behind and I find myself falling to the ground.

Darkness envelops my existence.