Page 74 of The Billionaire Babe

I spot her sitting in the armchair in the living space, one of the game shows she likes watching on the TV. As I step toward her, she doesn’t even look up.

“Mom?” I say quieter, wondering what the hell is going on.

“I knew my boy would come,” she says, her voice low.

“That you did.” A man's voice sounds from down the hall, and I jump back in surprise.

John Van Cleef. He looks a little different from when I last saw him. He is still in a suit, but he needs a shave, and by the looks of the dark circles under his eyes, I would guess he hasn’t been sleeping much either.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I ask, livid, looking between him and my mother. She finally looks up at me. Her eyes are a little glassy, red, and her pupils are pinpoints, heroin clearly in her system.

“Your mother has been very accommodating. Pity you didn’t take after her,” he says, walking toward her slowly.

“You need to keep away from her,” I warn, not liking him anywhere near me or my mother.

“AJ. That is not how you treat visitors,” my mother scolds me, but her words are slurred. I have no idea how much she has had, but she isn’t in her right mind.

“Yes, AJ. That is not how you treat visitors,” he repeats sarcastically, and I grit my teeth. I want to end him. I step forward to do just that, then he lifts his hand and I still. He holds up a syringe.

“Your mom has got all she needs now,” he says with a sick smirk on his face, handing it to my mother.

“Stop, Mom!” I shout as she takes it from him. “Don’t!”

“But I need it, baby. You know Mommy needs her medicine,” she tells me like she did when I was fucking five years old.

“Stop, Mom!” I stride toward her but stop short as I hear the click of a gun. My eyes dart to Valerie's father holding a handgun, aimed right at my head. I look back down to my mother who is five paces from me, and before I can move again, I see her push the needle into her arm, the sharp edge piercing her skin.

“Mom… please…” I choke out, knowing that whatever is in that needle is not something she will recover from. My heart tears in my chest, anger vibrating through my body, but I can't move. The gun is aimed firmly, and she won’t stop. No matter what I do, what I say. My mom has been an addict her entire life. She can’t live without it.

“Ahhhh, that’s better.” She sighs, and I watch her take a big breath in, then slump back farther in her armchair. My eyes are glued to her as she looks up at me, and she smiles before they roll to the back of her head.

“What the fuck did you give her?” I spit out as I reach for my cell to call 9-1-1.

“Put your fucking phone down,” he growls.

“She OD’d. She can’t take the pure stuff. She is too used to dirty drugs, dirty lifestyle,” I bite out, knowing he doesn’t give a shit, but my mom has nothing to do with his fucking money grab.

“You have ruined my fucking life!” he shouts. “Let’s face it, you were never cut out to be a billionaire, and I am never going to let you be with my daughter. She should be married by now. She should be enjoying her honeymoon. She should be halfway around the world in Dubai, making babies, away from my company!”

“But instead, she is screaming my name every night and taking over her rightful position at the company by day,” I grit out. We both know I am not good enough for Val. But I love her, and she loves me.

“You have no father. No mother,” he says, looking down at my mother’s slumped figure in the armchair. “And you sure as hell are not having Valerie.”

I try to think about this situation clearly. My mother’s chest stopped rising and falling minutes ago. By the time 9-1-1 gets here, it will be too late. Whatever was in the syringe was too much, too strong. I swallow harshly, pushing the emotion down. I have a gun raised at my head, so I know that I will be lucky to get out of here alive, and I sure as fuck don’t want to die here, in this trailer, next to this woman. I struggled my entire life to make something of myself, to get out from this trailer and away from her drug-affected lifestyle. I worked too hard to get away, just to die right back here where I grew up. I need to get outside to have at least a small chance of survival.

“If you are going to shoot me, then let’s go outside where you can shoot me like a man,” I seethe, not showing fear. I want to wrap my hands around his throat and take away his last breath. I want to grab that gun and shoot him right between the eyes. But I can’t do any of that in this cramped trailer. If I can get outside, I have more room to move, more places to run, more opportunity to overpower him. I suspect he likes a challenge, just like his daughter, and I am right, when I see his nostrils flare.

“Get the fuck down those stairs.” He waves the gun, and I wonder for a brief moment if he is actually on some type of drug as well because he is fucking crazy. I step backward slowly, not giving him my back, and I walk out of the trailer.

“Go slowly… no sudden moves or else I will shoot you where you stand,” he threatens as my feet touch the gravel outside, and I take a few large steps backward, trying to get as far away from him as possible. I don’t stop stepping as he walks out, and I am already farther away from him than I was inside. But his hand is still raised, the gun still pointed at my head.

“You have nothing left to live for. I spoke to your landlord, and you've lost your apartment. Your Harley is being repo’d in about an hour…, but don’t worry, I will ensure it goes to scrap metal. And that little hobby you had called Fortress. I had a friend of mine from the tax office hide some incriminating evidence in your financials that the IRS are going to be very fucking interested in. You and your little friends will be bankrupt before the end of the week.”

I grit my teeth.

If what he says is true, it is checkmate. At this rate, I will be surprised if I don’t go to prison. If this is what is coming for me, I can’t help Valerie, just like I couldn’t ever help my mom. I am not the man either of the women in my life needed.

“Wow, that is so nice of you, Mr. Wilson…” Valerie's voice comes from the side, and I spin around to see her, along with Brady and Cody, plus another few guys I don’t know stepping toward us. Mr. Wilson?

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