I Am Rich Again

Chapter 7

“Stephanie is not my wife. I do not have a wife,” John spat with his face instantly becoming red with anger, his words dripping with bitterness.

Miss B maintained her composure as she stared at John, his face contorted with rage. It was evident that the mere mention of Stephanie’s name had ignited a storm of emotions within him, dredging up painful memories.

“I’m sorry. I meant your ex-wife,” Miss B rephrased gently, offering a slight, sympathetic smile.

“What about her? What does she have to do with you and me?” John asked through gritted teeth, his eyes narrowed down at Miss B.

“Unfortunately, quite a lot,” Miss B shrugged, her tone tinged with resignation as she leaned back in her chair, avoiding John’s intense gaze.

She reached for a bottle of water, taking a long sip as John processed her words, his anger simmering beneath the surface. His mind traveling far and near thinking of what connection he still had with Stephanie.

“What do you mean by ‘a lot’?” John demanded, his sights narrowing in suspicion.

Miss B remained mute for a moment, her globes still fixed forward like a statue. She let out a deep sigh before turning back to John, the weight of her words hanging in the air like a heavy fog.

“Story for another time. For now, you need to freshen up,” Miss B said, her smile gentle and reassuring as she nodded her head.

There was an undeniable beauty in her smile and the warmth of her eyes. They radiated a sense of calmness and tranquility, offering a brief respite from the turmoil within John.

“No, I can freshen up later. I need to know what that cunning witch has done this time,” John insisted, his voice tinged with bitterness. All he felt inside of him was burning rage. The hate he felt towards Stephanie was unmeasurable.

“Trust me, you’ll find out in due time. For now, it’s best you freshen up,” Miss B urged gently.

“Why the need to freshen up before discussing Stephanie? I don’t even care about it. That woman ruined my life, and I don’t need to freshen up before we talk about it. I think it’s better to deal with her as I’m dirty, after all she did me dirty. Let’s just talk now. I don’t have the patience,” John spat out each word, his disdain for Stephanie floating out from his words and visible on his countenance.

Miss B observed him closely, sensing the anger and pain burning within him. John was shattered, his love for Stephanie replaced by resentment and disgust. She had pushed him to the brink, driving him to contemplate ending his own life. Despite his shattered state, John remained loyal to her during their time together, never once straying.

“There’s a time for everything, Mr. John,” Miss B said calmly, her smile unwavering.

John locked eyes with Miss B, the intensity of their gaze holding for a few moments before he finally relented, releasing a heavy sigh as he let go of his pressure.

“Okay, very well then,” John said, his tone resigned.

Miss B nodded, her eyes softening as she glanced at him. John turned away, his hand gripping the edge of the car’s window, his mind drifting back to the humiliation he endured at the hands of Stephanie and the betrayal from his best friend.

“I’m guessing you lost everything, including your clothes,” Miss B broke the silence.

John turned to her, a pained expression crossing his face. Once accustomed to donating clothes to charity, he now found himself with only a pair of tattered and dirty suits. How drastically the world had turned against him.

“We own a boutique as well. It’s yours as well, considering it’s part of your investment. I’ll drop you off so you can do some shopping, and by the way, you don’t have to pay for anything, so feel free to choose whatever you need,” Miss B stated.

“Plus, here’s the company’s debit card. The PIN is in the envelope. You can use it to purchase anything else you might need. When you return to the penthouse, we’ll finalize and monetize your investment,” she added, handing him the card.

“Thank you,” John said, gratitude flooding his heart. “I really appreciate your support and assistance,” he added sincerely.

“It’s rightfully yours. Besides, my dad always said, when you’re in business trouble, make sure to reach out to John Beckham,” Miss B remarked, a hint of nostalgia in her voice.

“Your dad was a strong, hardworking, and great man. I’m sure he’s proud of you, where he is now” John replied, offering a small smile.

“I hope so,” Miss B said softly, her expression reflecting a mix of uncertainty and hope.

Miss B and John arrived at one of the city’s most exclusive boutiques, now co-owned by Miss B and John. They dropped him off outside the building since Miss B had a prior meeting to attend, but she had already informed the manager of John’s arrival.

“I will send a car to come pick you up as soon as you are done” Miss B nodded and John nodded as well as she drove off.

As John moved to enter the boutique, he was stopped by one of the imposing security personnel who stared him down with disdain. He was tall and muscular, and wore a black classic suit.

“You’re not allowed in. Leave now,” the tall, intimidating guard stated coldly, eyeing John with disgust.

“Why, if I may ask?” John quizzed, his eyes narrowing in confusion and growing uncertainty.

“This is not a place for people like you. If you need new clothes, try the local market, that’s what you can afford” the guard sneered, triggering a chuckle from a passerby.

“I beg your pardon. So poor people aren’t allowed a life of luxury?” John replied, his tone calm but laced with anger.

“I said leave now if you don’t want to be humiliated. Anyways I know you are used to humiliation but then I’m going to break your bones. This place isn’t for beggars. You think you can come here to beg or even steal, but it won’t work. Get lost, you bastard!” the guard bellowed, his grip tightening on John’s arm as he prepared to forcefully remove him from the entrance.

“John? Is that him?” a voice interrupted from behind. It was Modelisa, Stephanie’s mother and John’s former mother-in-law.

“Of course! I was right,” she exclaimed, snapping her fingers and sharing a conspiratorial giggle with her friends. “The dirty, poor pig is so easy to spot,” she added, her words dripping with malice.

“What are you doing here, you poor man? You can’t afford anything here. Or did you come here to steal?” Modelisa’s voice cut through the air as she approached John, locking eyes with him, laughing in her mouth and ready to explode.

Tension crackled between them, fueled by the memory of the embarrassment John had endured at the hands of the woman he once considered his mother, the woman he had cared for and supported.

“Isn’t it ironic? A thief accusing me of theft,” John retorted bitterly, his gaze blazing with righteous anger. “Are you trying to hide your own crimes in shame?” he added, his words a stinging rebuke.

“How dare you?” Modelisa’s slap landed on John’s cheek with the force of a thunderclap. She was always short tempered and quick to physical violence.

John didn’t resist, allowing her to vent her fury. It gave him more reason to plot a dangerous revenge. As he recalled Miss B’s words, he understood that there was a time for everything.

“I will be your worst nightmare, I promise you that,” John declared with unwavering confidence. The time for retribution was drawing near, and he intended to make them all pay for the humiliation they had inflicted upon him.

“Get this fool out of here!” Modelisa commanded the guard holding John. “I can’t stand to be in the presence of poverty any longer. It sickens me to my core,” she spat, turning to enter the boutique in disdain.

With a firm grip, the guard forcefully threw John to the ground, treating him like a mere sack of refuse to be discarded. John crumpled to the floor, his elbows and knees bearing the brunt of the impact against the hard surface, his face dangerously close to meeting the unforgiving ground.

“Get out!” the guard roared, his voice echoing through the air.

“What’s going on here?” A commanding voice cut through the chaos, drawing attention from all directions as John lay sprawled on the ground.

“Sir, this beggar tried to enter the store. I’m certain he was attempting to beg or steal,” the guard explained, addressing the man in the classic black suit who had just spoken.

“Yes, I witnessed the commotion. Thanks to your proactive security for handling the situation. I didn’t come to this establishment to associate with thieves. The management needs to address this immediately,” Modelisa chimed in, her disdain evident in her tone.

“I’m terribly sorry, Sir,” the manager hurried over to John, extending a hand to help him up.

Modelisa narrowed her eyes at her friends before turning her gaze back to John. “Why are you apologizing to this poor fool?” she demanded.

“He’s not a poor fool. He’s the co-owner of this store,” the manager revealed, surprising everyone with the unexpected revelation.