Page 4 of The Billionaire Babe

“Where did you find this place?” Chelsea asks Chloe as we all look around. My eyes survey the dance floor below. The crowd was smaller when we arrived, but now it is really pumping. I take in the busy bar, the few staff behind looking run off their feet.

“One of my best customers came into the store this week talking all about it. I thought it would be perfect for us tonight,” Chloe says, looking at me with a worried smile. As a jewelry designer, she sees a lot of different people, all who love to give her the latest gossip and tell her about the trending places. Her pieces are very sought after, being one of the best designers in the country.

“It’s great!” I say, giving my friends a small smile, and they all look at me with concern.

“You needed it. Let’s be honest, the bomb Father Van Cleef dropped on you this week… I can’t believe you are not comatose somewhere, rocking yourself,” Simone quips, taking a sip of her champagne.

“I’m fine. Everything is going to be fine,” I tell her, trying way too hard to keep my smile in place. She looks at me like she doesn't believe a word I say. Neither do I.

“Seriously, can you just tell your father thanks but no thanks?” Chloe asks.

“I have no idea what I am going to do.” Giving up on putting on a façade, my head drops to my hands. I haven’t seen my father since I had dinner at his place earlier this week. I’ve spent my days working and trying to figure out how I can take my rightful place at the head of Van Cleef Corp and not get married to a man my father chooses.

“You’re an adult. You can just not do it,” Simone says, like it is the easiest decision.

“I know. But if I don’t do it, then he will blacklist me from working anywhere in Baltimore. Probably the entire East Coast, actually. I would lose access to Van Cleef Corp entirely…” I fidget with my hands, the feeling of uncertainty crawling up my neck.

“And tell me again how that is any different to your current situation?” Chelsea asks, raising her perfectly shaped eyebrow at me. I balk then, because she is right; it is no different to my life now. My father has already told me I will never work again.

“I’ve never not done what my father has asked before. Plus, he is all I have left,” I tell them, swallowing the uncomfortable feeling, pleading with them to understand. It sounds immature, but ever since Mom died, I have tried everything to be the perfect daughter. He always said he had enough to worry about and didn’t want me to be one of them. So I made it my life’s mission. Straight A student. I am not promiscuous, I keep my friends circle tight, I work hard, don’t really party, and I’ve never stepped a foot out of place. But the real issue is, I have no one else. No other family. If I go against him and challenge him for the CEO position, then I will be on my own, an orphan.

“Of course you haven’t. You have been the perfect daughter. Done everything asked of you. You work your ass off, you go to every charity function, and you are beautiful. Every man in this city wants you and every woman in this city wants to be you. You do it all in the hopes that your father will finally open his eyes and see how truly amazing you are and treat you like the beautiful daughter you are. Everyone else in this godforsaken city can see it but him. You need to stop doing everything he asks of you.” I give Simone a small smile and nod, grateful to have such amazing girlfriends.

“It’s not that easy…” I say, shaking my head a little. There is a lot to consider.

“We know it isn’t. But just know you always have us,” Chloe says, reaching out and grabbing my hand, offering me a small squeeze of support. I swallow as her words penetrate and remind me that I do have her and the girls. I have someone. They may not be blood, but they are more family than my father has been.

“Besides, you can’t get married; there are too many hot guys here,” Simone adds, lightening the mood, her eyes glued to a team of security men who stand at the front of the club. She isn’t wrong.

“Don’t you see enough hot guys during the week?” Chelsea asks, looking at her in question.

“I am a physiotherapist. I am a professional,” Simone says sternly, sitting up straighter with a sparkle in her eye.

“A professional who has her hands all over the state’s best NFL team,” Chloe sniggers, and I cough a laugh.

“How is the Beauty Bar going? I need to come in this week,” I ask Chelsea, both interested in her business and also trying to ascertain her availability to see if I can get in to see her for an eyebrow shape. My father’s voice runs through my mind about losing a few pounds and fixing my appearance.

“Your brows are amazing, as always. You don’t need to come in. But I am thinking of opening another store down on the water. Can you look over the legal contract for me?” she asks, and I smile.

“That is amazing. Of course. I am happy to.” My cell vibrates in my bag, and I pull it out while the girls chatter. It’s a notification from socials, so I click on it quickly and heave in a breath.

“What is it?” Chloe asks. She is eagle-eyed at the best of times, so I am not surprised she was watching me.

“Oh, nothing,” I say with a forced smile, while my heart thuds in my chest and panic fills my veins.

“Seriously, you look a bit pale. Is everything okay?” Simone asks, and now all my friends are looking at me once again.

“I think… he’s back…” I whisper, the words feeling like acid on my tongue.

“Who’s ba—oh shit…” Simone’s brain catches up with the situation.

“What did it say?” Chelsea demands, and I hand her my phone. I had a stalker situation back when I first left college. It was so frightening that for six months, I didn’t leave the house. My father said it wouldn’t matter how many security guards he put on me, that it wouldn’t make a difference and I should remain hidden until he went away. So, as always, I did exactly what my father told me to and I stayed locked up in the house, going crazy for six months. Since then, nothing, and I forgot all about the vile messages I used to get from random usernames that no amount of blocking and reporting could fix.

“Oh, his username is valimback. How original,” Chelsea says.

“It will be fine. Probably not him. Or her. Or whatever.” I take a sip of champagne, noticing the small shake of my hands. It has been years, and I never did find out who was behind the messages. I left my father to take care of it all at the time. With a wave of my hand, I try to dismiss any worries. “It is probably just some kids playing around.”

“Ahh, this is pretty descriptive…” Chelsea says, handing the phone to Simone as Chloe looks over her shoulder.

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