The Young Billlionaire's Vengeance

“Babe…. Babe”

She walked into the room, her hand still attempting to place the pin perfectly to hold her hair.

She heard footsteps, thinking it was her husband, she took a turn into the living room instead.

“Babe I….”, Mrs. Bane stopped on track, not expecting to meet their maid there.

“Oh. It's …. you”, she said, her expression shifted to an obvious glow down, opposed from the initial enlightenment that filled her face.

She turned, taking the door from whence she'd just come out from. In the adjoining dining room was her husband, his sitting position not quite the usual.

“Honey..?”, Mrs. Bane asked, quite concerned already from where she stood. She finally stopped trying, letting her efforts come to waste as her french twist style loosened fast, letting her hair flow freely down to her waist. She moved to where he sat, a worried expression on her face.

 “Honey?”, She called, shaking his shoulders vigorously. No answer. Now that she saw him in full view, she noticed his slumped sitting. Usually he'd snore.

But he wasn't.

“Hon…?”, She called to him, shaking his arm. She touched his hands.

His cold hands. His cold, seemingly lifeless hands.

Fear creeped into her, her eyes bulging in shock.

She touched his hand again, watching in horror how they swung freely, the cold feel lingering between her fingers.

“Oh my God”

Her breathing came fast and rasped and for a moment, she was lost on what to do. She walked back slowly, her heart racing more than a million miles.

Then suddenly, her adrenaline kicked in and she ran out of the room.

“Help!”, She cried, almost slipping as she tried to slow down her pace a little, not wanting to miss the door.

“Help. Tricia”.

She was in the living room again, but this time confused, looking everywhere with her fingers eating deep into her hair.

“I need help”, she said in a suddenly calm manner.

Her eyes met her phone and she grabbed it, dialing the family doctor's number. She missed a figure and her seemed to jump at her mistake too. In distress, she wiped out the whole number and typed it in again. It began to ring and her anxiety only grew.

“Doctor… Doctor”, she said, panicking, tears choking the rest of her words.

“Mrs. Bane? How may I help you?”

“Doctor, Doctor my…”

Her voice seized as the phone dropped from her hand. She held the belt, struggling with the holder. But whoever it was, was too strong, their hand a strong one like that of a man. Her eyes closed slowly until she could no longer struggle.

She fell to the ground.

“Hello? Mrs. Bane, are you still there?”

****************************

“Mum do I really have to sign this?”, Elara protested, hands folded and a grumpy expression.

“Yes honey. I'm sorry but you'd have to. Just for the records”

“Urghhhh”, she groaned, pushing the documents away on her desk.

“Do that quickly Elara, so we can proceed with the court wedding”, her mother instructed, walking out of her room.

“The useless son of a…”, she cursed under her breath as she signed the documents. She got up, walking angrily through the passage way to her mother's study room.

“Here, all signed”, she said, dumping the documents on the wide wooden desk.

“Great”, her mother said, not bothering to look up from her tab.

Just then, Alistair walked in. He as well didn't have such a happy expression on but he didn't look as angry as Elara.

“I'm back with the documents Mrs Wilde”.

“Oh please”, she replied sharply, her hand held up to shut him up.

“Let me have it”, she took the documents roughly from his hands.

She examined both, making sure they were duely signed. Elara stood impatiently tapping her feet, her hands still folded angrily.

Mrs. Wilde arranged the documents, tapping them on the table.

“Are we done here?”

“Yes dear. They are all complete and correct. I'll have them mailed to my lawyer”

“Great”, she said, turning sharply for the door. She swiped her hair against Alistair's face and didn't even turn back to apologize.

Alistair stood, hands to the back.

“And what are you still standing here for? Huh?”

“I'm…’’

“Get out!”

Alistair walked out, closing the door gently as he did. This was the kind of thing he was already used to. Ever since the day a new president for the Voxx Group of Companies emerged, his life at the Wilde's had suddenly taken a new turn. A fresh, new and bad turn. The Wilde's suddenly hated him and even Elara's attitude towards him changed.

They had stopped accommodating him at the dining tables, moving him to the second wing of the house where the maids stayed. They  treated him with disgust, like he'd been some golden piece of the dirt that had suddenly lost value. Alistair couldn't comprehend the sudden turn of events till date neither could he comprehend why after so many years of being reminded that he would inherit the company, his uncle, out of blue, was elected as the new president.

“Perhaps the shareholders deemed him a better choice”, Alistair thought, shrugging his shoulders.

He'd decided to walk back to the second wing of the mansion when he heard the bell. That meant it was lunch time for the family, which meant he had work on the kitchen.

He passed through the dressing room, putting on the hair net and light gloves. He still had his apron on and he'd planned on taking it to the laundry room on his way to wing 2. He walked into the kitchen where Mama Doris had her hands full with a steaming hot pot of stew.

“Chefarito! Where are the strawberry cupcakes?!”

The pastry chef hurriedly brought them out of the oven, his face white with anxiety. He'd obviously left them over time.

Alistair took out some clean dishes, walking over to where the chef was. It was lunch time so the whole kitchen was quite in a haze. Chef cut open one of the cakes, taking a fork out to taste them.

His worried face relaxed as he took out another form from the drawer for Alistair to join him.

“How is it? Fantastic, isn't it?”

“As always Chef Aritos”, Alistair commended, smiling slightly.

“What chit chat are you two doing over there?!”

“Quick, get these to the table”, Chef said, as he carefully but hastily placed the perfectly golden brown cup cakes on the plate. He'd done some chocolate pudding as well to go with the cakes and Alistair soon had his hands full.

The saucers were hot and even through the salver, Alistair struggled to hold on. He got to the table, carefully placing them on the table. However, the chocolate pudding bowl tipped over a little and some of it stained the table.

“You dumb thing!”, Mrs. Wilde reacted almost immediately. A slap on his cheeks followed. Alistair touched his face lightly, his head falling and eyes to the ground.

“Can't you do anything right, you fool?!”

“I'm sorry Mrs. Wilde. I deeply apologize”

“Oh shut your filthy mouth up!” She retorted loudly. “Look at the mess you've made!”

“What's going on here?”, Mr. Wilde asked, as he walked in on the scene.

“This foolish thing here just messed up my expensive dining cloth!” she cried.

“You don't say..”, Mr. Wilde said, in his usual slurry manner.

He walked up to Alistair and before he could even explain, another slap came across his cheeks.

“Get out of here”, Mr. Wilde ordered. Alistair walked out of the dining room, with gritted teeth running his hand through his hair as embarrassment waved through him. He could still hear their voices clearly as he moved through the passage.

“The insolent thing!”

“Look at us thinking he'd be of some use, only for him to be as useless as ever”

“I told you not to adopt the boy, didn't I?”

Alistair dropped his apron at the kitchen change room, roughly pulling the net off his head. He shook in anger, kicking one of the cabinets. It shook vigorously and he had to quickly hold it to calm down.

“Arghh!”