A Contract Marriage With The Billionaire's Mad Son

Opula was bouncing and having her fragile, slender waist astride the legs of Ken, whose mouth was gaping, and hands infinitely stroking and fondling her fragile small breasts.

“You…you are not doing badly today,” Ken stuttered under her weight and squeezed her tapering waist.

She shut her eyes and breathed hard. “Yesterday’s sex was horrendous,” she sounded through moan and clenched her teeth to pound harder. “I am going to give it to you hot!” she managed to say at a breath.

Neither of them spoke again. A hush of silence would have hung over them except for the bed that creaked under their weight and the slapslap sound of her thighs against his.

Hastily Ken swung her over the bed and came on top of her. He pinned her soft palms to the bedspread, shot his groovy eyes into hers and slammed a little more into her, before he began to jerk uncontrollably.

“Oh, not yet,” she nagged, and dragged a furrowed brow while she vibrated under him.

Ken gripped her blonde, lush hair, gritted, and frowned his face while he jerked without end. His body stilled and suddenly relaxed, before his face fell on her neck and started burning her with his warm breath.

She pushed him aside.

“Twoseconds husband. You are horrible in bed,” she cursed and grabbed the duvet to cover her nakedness. She sighed.

Ken held his breath.

“This is not an orgy. I am having my wife,” he groaned and stroked his ponytail.

He was the husband to Opula, first daughter of the Fanny. Ken was tall, wellbuilt with strong facial features. He was a livein husband, just like the other husbands, who found no fault in being taken care of by their billionaire fatherinlaw.

“Same story every day. Opula is not enjoying it anymore,” she glowered, snorted, nagged and added, “you are always impossible.” Her nostrils flared and eyes lined with insatiability.

Ken’s jaw sagged in rage. He didn’t want to tell her he found it awkward. But he was going to say his fury in any way he could.

“Well I am not as impossible as your mad brother who set my most expensive tuxedo on fire,” he replied without remorse.

Her eyes flinted with anger and face went crimson; before her nose wrinkled “How dare you call my brother mad!” she snapped and widened her gaze at him.

He sat up. “But he …..” Ken couldn’t complete his grievance.

Pa!

A slap interposed him and he paused, lowered his gaze, brought his palms on his chin to nurse his pain.

She crawled out of the bed, advanced to the door and yanked it open.

“Leave my chamber this minute!” she ordered and watched as Ken’s hand nurse his itchy cheeks.

“You raised your hands on me?” He sounded calmly, and stared at her with his watery green eyes burning with fury.

“And I will do it over and over again if you ever call my brother mad and insult him the way you just did!” she echoed.

“But he is mad and he ruined my tuxedo,” he barked and slammed his hand on the bed in revenge.

His response infuriated her even the more.

“You dumb ass grouch! Leave my chamber!” she commanded yet again and pointed at the door impatiently.

“Your Chamber?” he asked with a shrug.

“Yes, my chamber. The villa belongs to my father, who feeds you, shelters you and cloths you. Now leave!” She gestured at the door in a final decision.

Feeling disgruntled, Ken’s lips curled as he squeezed into his pair of pant, grabbed his shirt and left like thunder.

The door slammed!

With his hand still on his cheeks, and expression hardened, Ken walked past a couple of maids, sneered and pushed away the ones that came on his way and barged into his chamber.

Once he was out of sight, Salsa, the chief maid of the Fanny’s laughed tauntingly as she tucked to the corner with the rest of the maids.

“What could be the problem now?” she asked a junior maid who peered towards her for gossip.

“I overheard a sensual moan from their chamber …” Another maid interrupted, “I think he got bashed for disappointing Opula in bed again,” she mumbled, gagged her mouth with her hands as she glared around for any onlooker.

Salsa’s finger was on her lips. “Shhh!” She glared around before adding, “Return to your duty post,” she ordered.

They dispersed, as their highheels knocked innumerably on the floor as they left.

Salsa was about advancing to Opula’s chamber, when Opula’s medium tan, feline face came through the door.

“Get Brian ready for dinner with my father,” her voice beamed.

“Yes ma’am,” Salsa responded, bowed and left to do her bidding.

At a later time, Salsa ran back to Opula’s chamber and was howling from deep down her lungs.

“What is the problem?” Opula queried, and shot her oval disturbing looks at her. “Chin up and talk to me!” she barked.

Salsa was huffing and puffing to say a word.

“What is it? Speak!” Opula thudded yet further.

Salsa flinched.

“I…I went to Brian’s Chamber and he wasn’t in. I searched the whole villa and couldn’t find him. I only could find his cloths at the garden. I think he has gone out to the street as usual,” She wailed as she raised the cloths.

“Why did you leave someone kept under your care? Now listen, you dope,” she gripped her ears and squeezed it.

Salsa grinned in pain.

“If anything should happen to my brother, you are as good as dead. Go and find him now!” she beamed.

Indigenes of Rio Hondo often referred me as the poorest, ragged girl, but I barely could fight anyone over it or prove them wrong in any pragmatic way because literally I was poor.

My poor father died when I was six. Mother said he died mysteriously but whenever she mentioned that I often understood her empathy after she must have elaborated he died out of the depression of poverty. With nothing to fall back on, we relocated to our grandpa’s house to perch with him. Not that he was richer but he was poorer. Daily we clung at the jaw of hunger and want, since the meager vegetable garden he groomed could barely sprout enough produce let alone make it to the market.

Grandpa died and opened the door of intense lack for us as we looked forward to joining him soon. Inheriting a poorly grooved vegetable garden and a fragile, roofless thatched, cane house, we waited for the hands of death to pay us homage soon.

It didn’t stop us from going to the market anyways. While others sold their vegetables and smiled home with big pockets of coins, mom and I wailed inwardly and returned home the same way we came. Every day we came to the market not to sell vegetables but to enjoy just the trill that hung over the market.

Soon mom became sick. With no penny for her diagnosis, I only could describe her sickness in my own little way. Please, I entreat your sympathy! And don’t call me names! Now listen while I described her sickness in this maxim; ‘everyday she grew bigger.’

I almost thought her sickness was related to the dawn of every day because she swelled by the day, so whenever I went on my knees to pray, I often prayed she didn’t see the next day.

Mom stayed back home and waited for the hands of death to clamp her away while I went to the market to sell the less patronized vegetable in Rio Hondo.

“Please, could you patronize me? I haven’t sold even a bunch since this summer!” I wailed at a customer, who almost gave me the cold shoulders.

“Go to hell with your poison!” the customer beamed.

“Eat your poison, Melissa!” Another snapped and rolled her eyes.

“It is as poor as you are!” the other emphasized.

And I bowed my head in shame and scorn, not until I heard a lad echo to my hearing.

“I need vegetable for my dog!”

I sprang to my feet like a cat. “I am available!” I gasped; that would be my first customer in six months.

“Give them to me free of charge for my dog,” the lad protested, peered down to a puppy that meandered between his legs. It was a midget mastiff.

“Go to hell, you lad!” I barked and the dog started off barking back at me for yelling at the lad.

“A coin and I can have it all” the lad said his offer.

“Get away!” I stamped my feet on the ground and gestured at him to leave, as my voice sounded from my enteric anger.

The boy fled with his puppy.

I sat back in my peril and wept like a kid. Mom would have no food and water today again yet she grew bigger. Never in my life had I seen such irony. What could be the name of that sickness?

While in the cloud of my thought, I slept off; a deep sleep that was synonymous to death.

“Where is my vegetable?” I cried, stroked my hair confusedly for answers.

“What manner of sleep befell you that you didn’t notice Brian munch all your vegetables!” a voice among the crowd echoed angrily.

“Brian?” I queried, “Who is Brian…?” my wailing voice died off slowly.

I gazed around me and then on the ground, Io and behold, there he was; all naked, unruffled, with saliva smeared around his mouth, and the last halfeaten leaf stuck between his cute, pink lips, and his arms and feet tightly bound with fetters. And innocent, dashing, chiseled face laughing and waiting to be lynched by the mob. He was so cute to behold despite losing his sanity.

“Where is my vegetable?” I whined at the tops of my voice and combed my menacing stare around in search of it.

“The billionaire’s mad son!!” a voice started off with the chant and others picked on it and chanted harder. “The billionaire’s mad son! The billionaire’s mad son!

A whip! A whip! A whip!

While they flogged him, he flinched in tolerable pain yet laughed and seemed unscathed as though they were wasting their energy.

They disciplined him until two luxuriously dressed ladies whom I perceived to be maids pushed through the crowd and spoke in his favor.

“Enough!” one of the maids, the chubby one beamed “We have been in search of him all over Rio Hondo.”

One of the maids wailed at the top of her voice. “He escaped from the Fanny’s villa!”

“What did he do?” Another asked anxiously.

“Can’t you see he has masticated all the vegetable of poor Melissa while she was carelessly asleep,” a man amongst the mob elucidated.

“Enough! Steady on!” the maid pled with the mob, “How much is the worth of the vegetable?” she asked yet further.

“A hundred coins!” a voice replied from the crowd.

“I will give you two hundred,” the maid sounded. As soon as she brought out a bag of coins, the angry crowd snatched it from her, scrambled over it and fled.

“My vegetable! My vegetable! What becomes of me? Eh, maid! Maid!” I cried and called on.

But it was too late. Hastily they dragged Brian into the Lamborghini that was packed elegantly by the corner and zoomed off.

I fell on the ground, pressed my face between my knees and wailed on. I was left with nothing to sustain my dying mother. What a cruel world!

I am Melissa Brant, a skinny, tall, auburnhaired, Caucasian and the poorest vegetable seller in Rio Hondo!

I was heartbroken all day. Ruin and disappointment pervaded my countenance, and while on my way home I wailed bitterly. I thought about what would become of us, especially my mother who was slowly dying of a mysterious ailment. I barely could say what mother was suffering from because we barely could feed well let alone afford to take her to the hospital.

The previous day we struggled to earn a square meal and I could recall promising mother that today would be better. I wondered if mother perceived the falsity of my promise because of our poverty. She had never believed life could get better for us. She only had consolation in her reverie.

After promising to buy good food for her with the proceeds from our vegetable, she had only responded in tears and kept staring at the ceiling while she lay in her sick bed.

And today being the day I promised her at least, two square meals, that billionaire’s mad son ate all my raw vegetable and left us to die of hunger.

“What nonsense billionaire’s mad son is that?” I wailed in my head, while trudging home.

Why would they leave him hungry to feast on people’s means of livelihood, people like me?

Now he was probably being fed with the best of delicacy while mom and I were left to die.

I couldn’t continue walking home. I dashed on the ground. My life was devoid of any form of motivation to make it home.

I wasn’t mettlesome at all. My feet had lost verve and I couldn’t lift myself anymore.

What would I tell my mother now? Would I tell her that even yesterday was better off? If I tell her would she believe the grisly news? Would she believe that a disgruntled billionaire’s mad son rendered our vegetable business useless and ineffective?

Certainly mother would lay curse upon me and gnash her teeth in disappointment over my carelessness. Although mother was sick yet she knew how to flog offenders with her mouth.

My throat was tinderdry. Neither water nor food had crossed it. I was dying of hunger too. If mother didn’t die before me, I would.

“Please sir, I need some money from you,” I sounded respectively. “I just lost my entire vegetable to the billionaire’s mad son,” I wailed coldly.

That was the only option I was left with; else at dawn Rio Hondo would bury mother and daughter. As hunger churned my stomach, I believed same was happening to mother.

The haggardlooking young man swirled around, gave me a remarkable smirk and drifted to me.

Innocently, I stood, wondering the type of food I would buy for mom, because this young man was about being generous. My eyes gleamed and they were sparked with joy; you know the joy that beclouded you when a giver approached you with his hand fondling into his pocket.

Beclouded by my misery and thought, I didn’t know when the haggardlooking man touched my breasts and squeezed them.

A slap!

“You must be stupid!” I barked and covered my bust with my nervous hands.

The uglylooking offender was all smiles. “Do you want my money?” he queried and dug out a wad of dollars, “We can tuck away at the dark corner of the street for a quickie. Prostitute!” he cursed, laughed tauntingly and walked away.

I held my face in total frustration and fell on the ground to weep for my horrible fate and impending storm.

I was wailing right about then when a note struck my sight. I quietened, wiped my tears and peered at it for yet another time.

It was a one dollar note, when I picked it.

“Oh my God!” I exclaimed and cautioned myself with my palms on my mouth to tune down my voice. “Wow!”

My nerves opened for excitement. That quickiedemanding young man must have been careless over his money that he didn’t notice it fall off.

I let a breath of relief, squeezed the dollar, into my hold and scuttled to the grocery store to buy a decent food for my mother and me.

My lips curved and I simpered from cheek to cheek. Excitement hung over me until I got home.

“Mother! Mother!” I chanted fervently, “We are going to eat a decent meal after a long while!” I sounded at the tops of my voice unaware of the tragedy that had befallen my mother.

When I got to her inner chamber she wasn’t in her sick bed. She had fallen to the ground and in her pool of blood now.

“Mother! Mother! What happened! What happened to you, mother?”

I shook her heavily and noticed she had no sign of life when I felt her pulse.

With the help of our neighbor, we rushed her to the hospital. All night at the hospital I lay by her side, and prayed for sustainable life.

At dawn, the doctor invited me to his office and brought it officially to my notice.

“Your mother is suffering from autosomal dominant polycystic,”

My lower lip trembled at the mention of that disease. I didn’t know what the disease was but from its annoying name, I could tell mother was illfated.

The doctor explained further once he saw the color drain from my face. “It is a kidney disease and having lingered, it is right now at the terminal stage. Half a million dollars is needed for her treatment and if nothing happens in twenty four hours, I am afraid we may lose her.” the doctor’s voice beamed within me.

Those words of the doctor still sounded in my head, with the ting effect of a bell sounding at the cathedral even after I had dashed out to go in search of the money, which we didn’t have.

Later, while swallowed in my misery and gloom, a young beautiful nurse by name, Stella told me of one billionaire by name Fanny Luis, who was worth fifty billion dollars and the richest family in Rio Hondo.

“Listen Melissa,” Nurse Stella had said “If you could get to the billionaire he would certainly be of help,” she told me emphatically. “He is very generous. I can count quite a number of Rio Hondos he has helped.”

Later at twilight she took me to this huge edifice, a villa with plasters of gold and precious stones. It was situated on the Island of Rio Hondo. No other inhabitant could be found anywhere around the Island except this magnificent mansion.

“Over there is where billionaire Fanny Luis lives. You just have to try your luck. I believe he would be of help. He certainly will.” Her jaw clenched.

I was all tears and jittering without any eagerness to move. I pouted.

“Go Melissa. Your mother must not die of the kidney disease! Autosomal is a kidney disease nobody should toil with. Go and hug your good fate.”

That was the last words of the nurse as I swirled to take a bold step.

When I advanced to the villa, I noticed my feet couldn’t carry me further. The splendor that hung across the mansion overwhelmed me so much that I deemed myself not worthy to be found anywhere around it; not even its flowers and ornamental trees which looked healthier than me.

I quickly distinguished myself from smearing the expensive environment with my poverty countenance.

Expectedly I came to a halt once I caught sight of uniformed band of security men, all wellsuited with strong facial features, who asked me a thousand questions with their hostile faces and hefty chests.

My entire body vibrated as I folded my arms in anticipation of what they intended to do now they surged close to me.

One of them stared at me from head to toe, and must have perceived the wretchedness that encompassed around me; I perceived they were bored of seeing the scraggly faces of the poor hounding the villa all in the name of sourcing for the billionaire’s help.

Noticing one of the securities prancing towards my direction, my nose wrinkled before I came to a halt, lowered my gaze and pressed my trembling hands in front of me.

“Who the hell are you? Did you miss your way?” he queried and his face scowled irritatingly at me before his jaw clenched.

I believed my scraggly auburn hair, dried scaly feet, and torn offtheshoulders dress must have turned him off. I couldn’t have looked better than that.

Thankful enough he wasn’t much close to me, my body odor would have taught him a lesson, after repelling him.

I bowed my head, fondled with my finger in shame and was mysteriously dumbfounded and bewildered.

“Speak, you dirty looking thing!” another barked at me like a mad dog, almost at the tops of his voice. He gave me a dirty look and almost forced words out of my mouth with those dark, brooding eyes of his that flashed at me.

I had flinched, and trembled under his groaning and about returning to my sick mother. Having contemplated inwardly that this was a lost course and not able to convince them with my timidity to see reasons I was at the villa, I turned to take my leave.

While trudging away under the heaviness of my burden I heard a still voice.

“Hold on, young girl!”

That was the next command that pierced into my heart. All eyes came upon Opula as she cat walked down the staircase looking dashing and charismatic in her customized Italian gown, with piles of diamond bracelet round her neck and wrists. Flamboyance hung over her. Her hair was golden brown and long to her slender neck. She was towering and curvaceous; exactly like that of kissit models I often saw on billboards in Rio Rondo. A party of maidens flanked around her

Her presence alone courted respect and affluence as I noticed the security bow to her.

She stood, gawked at me from head to toe and shook her head in confirmation.

“Take this young girl to the chambers. Make her look beautiful and presentable before my father now,” she commanded the host of maidens that accompanied her.

“What is happening? What did she just say? Just like that! Did anybody tell her of my visit or what?” I queried inwardly.

What could be happening to me?

Those words of hers seared my countenance that I thought I had committed a sacrilege by bringing my scruffy, wretched looking self to the home of the richest billionaire in Rio Hondo.

But my thought was disappointed. The maidens advanced to me with smiling faces and decorum.

Salsa, who happened to be the chief maiden directed me and led me away into the same villa. I was still lost. I wanted to ask the reason everyone was genuflecting and greeting me as I made into my chamber.

They made sure every of Opula’s words was carried out to the latter.

Not only was I given a warm bath, they took their ample time to decorate me and adorn me in an exquisite Turkish grown that I might never afford in my time or in my generation yet to come.

“Please, what is happening? Why are you doing all this to me? I am not supposed to be here in the first place, let alone being handled as a princess.” I nagged with caution while they invested their time to wear off the poverty on my body.

Nobody gave an answer. All they did was smile and keep to their duty.

I wanted to protest yet further but their smiles made me look stupid. I was radically beautiful as well, when I appeared before the mirror.

I was led away into the largest, most decorated mainstream sitting room I have never seen.

Everything that hovered around my eyes was gold and diamond. I perceived I was in the major sitting room.

In less than few minutes, a handsome, whitebearded, luxuriously dressed man in his late forties walked in being flanked about by gorgeous looking ladies including Opula.

I perceived the man was Fanny Luis and the ladies were his daughters.

All the maidens and security genuflected and greeted them duly.

I bowed my face in shyness and lost in what was about to take place.

“Isn’t she beautiful father?” Opula queried and turned her gaze to the man.

It was then I knew I was standing before the famous billionaire in Rio Hondo, Fanny Luis himself.

I stood starstruck, frozen within myself as he walked around and admired me, inspecting me from head to toes and nodding gratefully.

“She is superbly beautiful for your brother. Where did you find this damsel, daughter?” Fanny groaned smiling cheek to cheek.

Opula smiled hugely, “I told you never to worry that I would find the perfect wife for Brian.”

At the mention of that I raised my head, dragged a furrowed brow across my face and scowled.

Wife? What are they saying? And who is Brian? Am I about to be arranged as wife to someone? And come to think of it, so all that happened to me was coming from a prior preparation to betroth me to someone. What is happening and who is this Brian?

I wondered within me, and smacked my lips nervously…

Fanny shook his head in the affirmative and became all smiles. His eyes sparkled.

“You are welcome to my humble family, my adorable sisterinlaw,” Kate intoned, with a lopsided grin.

Kate was the second eldest daughter of the Fanny’s. She was chubby, short and with pink cheeks that often smiled. Her hair was auburn. She kept smiling and shaking her head just like every other person except Eva.

Her nostrils flared,“Who is she? And who is her family in Rio Hondo?” Eva asked, gritted her teeth, shot her gotohell stare at me and walked around me as though I was some laboratory specimen.

“No, no, Eva”, Opula, the eldest protested with her hand gesturing at Eva, she protested yet further, “You don’t have to raise up that issue right now. I have not invited this pretty girl to be assessed by you.”

Eva raised a brow and squeezed her lips; that face of hers held thunder as she cast a menacing stare at her sister and then at me.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Eva queried Opula “You can’t choose this dirty, povertystricken girl for our brother!”

Opula stood to her feet with hands on the waist. She had already gone crimson. She kept rolling her eyes and sighing.

Opula snarled, “And since when did my egocentric sister become interested in the family’s affair, uh? You never wanted a wife for Brian! Possibly you enjoyed the way he is being attended to by nobody and goes the whole of Rio Hondo naked and being mobbed!” Opula barked radically.

Every other person became on looker as they quarreled at the tops of their voice.

Her nose wrinkled. “I have better plans for my brother not this,” she gestured her fingers at me, “Povertystricken, disgusting girl. We are the richest family in Rio Hondo. Poverty and wealth have nothing in common. Do I need to remind you, sister uh? I thought you were going to fetch a model, a movie super star or a musician for our brother. Come on think big.”

Opula interjected in fury, “She may be poor but she is very presentable than the ugly wealthy bitches you presented earlier…” She wanted to speak yet further when Fanny intervened, “Enough!”

Everywhere went cold at once at the groaning of his voice, “Is this how you girls want to welcome our new wife?” Fanny barked, and cast an appreciative stare at me.

My head bowed just then as I averted my gaze.

Wife? What is happening? Have they made me a wife already?

A wife to who if I may ask? I came here to see if I could borrow the money needed for my mother’s hospital bills and here I am donning diamond bracelets and jewelries, clad in a Turkish luxurious gown which I may never afford in my entire life.

As I looked myself from head to toes, I wondered if I could summon the courage to question their actions, and why am I being given as wife to a man I know nothing about and wasn’t in love with.

Something must be fishy. Are they mistaking me for someone else?

“I am confused please” it almost sounded as a whisper but by some reckless courage it sounded loud enough for everyone to hear.

Fanny smiled at me, and then stood to his feet. His face flushed with uncertainty.

Every other person smiled except Eva who was busy fighting me with her quarrelsome stare.

But Eva wasn’t my problem now. My problem was how it all happened suddenly. I had come to borrow the half a million dollars needed to commence treatment on my mother and not to be given as wife to any son.

I was losing it now. These billionaires could be so annoying. They felt everything was answerable to them and because they were wealth and influential nothing was impossible for them to achieve.

Come on! Things are not done that way! How could you just see someone at the gate, and the next you get her all expensively dressed, just to be given as wife to your only son? A son I knew nothing about?

Fanny’s face held a huge grin. His jaw clenched. I knew he might be wondering what gave me the guts to visit his mansion in the name of borrowing money. I was young and naïve. I wondered what could be more important to me than my mother’s health. Marrying his son or whoever was out of it.

He pointed, “You see that artifact over there, it is worth twenty million dollars. Do you see that artwork with diamond stones? It is worth thirty million dollars. Money is not my problem.”

He dug his hand into his blazers and slid out a credit card…

Fanny was unhesitant, after sliding out the credit card. His eyes gleamed and his jaw sparkled.

A beam of smiles clouded his face before he flashed the credit card at me.

Instantly my avarice increased at the sight of the credit card, and I winked nervously, wished he would gift me the card without conditions.

“This is a credit card for half a million dollars. It is for you,” he sounded, with an emphatic chuckle that sounded from him.

While lost in the shallowness of my thought, I went on my knees, shut my eyes and started rendering all manner of appreciation. I eulogized Fanny Luis and felt within my head that I had emptied my praises.

“Oh thank you, so much, Sir! This is just an answered prayer. What would I have done without you? You are indeed known in Rio Hondo for your generosity. You are the savior of the poor. I can’t describe my joy over what you just did but I want you to know that the God of the poor will pay you in hundred folds. You will continually be the richest man in Rio Hondo…” my voice hung over the sitting room amidst tears.

I was yet speaking when Fanny interjected, “May I know what you do for a living, dear? He demanded still holding unto the credit card. At the time his mouth that had curved into a smile had given way for his hardened expression.

That question spiked my heart in such a trice that I wondered from where came the sweat that trickled from my armpit.

Was I ruffled or what?

I exhaled fearfully once I gazed upon his sullen countenance. “I am a poor vegetable seller,” I replied coldly and bowed my head in shame. “Poor vegetable seller”, he retorted with a grotty scowl hanging on his face, “How do you intend to pay back half a million dollars by selling cheap, dirty vegetables, uh?”

Those words by the billionaire tingled me so badly, that I searched for saliva to swallow down my throat. My excitement had over shadowed my thinking faculty that I forgot I was going to repay the loan.

What even came over me to think that I would be able to pay back half a million dollars by selling vegetables, even if I sell all the vegetable in the world, and given more than a century, I didn’t think I would be able to repay back that money; it was just too much for poor Melissa to repay.

“Speak up, young lady!” he barked and his jaw set before he narrowed his eyes at me.

At that, the girls and the maiden were staring at me with bated breath, save Eva, who gave me a morbid stare.

I flinched and my excitement was nowhere to be found within me. Reality left my head hovering.

“I…I…” I stuttered, smacked my lips and said yet further, “I am eager to be your servant or be your slave for life as repayment for that money. Please. I don’t mind being enslaved to you as a maid without salary, Sir,” I uttered, still bowed my head.

“No, no,” he jerked his head in disapproval, “I am surrounded by maidens, security and slaves. I have no need for them anymore. Listen up, young girl, I can’t risk my half a million dollars, my hard earned money on the altar of generosity. You have to figure out ways to repay me or I will figure it out for you,” his voice beamed at me.

Quickly I shook my head, “I am ready for anything Sir, anything sir,” I repeated, still niggled by the fact that the money wasn’t yet mine.

Did I actually hear myself? Anything? Hmmm.

“Security,” Fanny snapped, “Bring out my adorable son, Brian,” he commanded and held a huge smile. The smile would have been contagious if not for the situation at hand.

I bowed my head as I was still on my knees, lost in my imagination of what he intended to do, when the rustling sound of chains being dragged on the floor ravaged the entire place. Soon after the party of security dashed out to fetch his son, I heard voices.

“Out! Out! Now!”

That was the shrieking yell of men, who seemed to be struggling with something and yelling at someone.

“Out! Out! Now I said!”

“Please don’t whip him! Drag him out gently,” Fanny commanded yet further.

The yell came again, and I raised my head wondering what was happening. I thought the billionaire ordered the security to bring out Brian, his adorable son, so what was keeping them and what on earth would make Fanny give out such orders if his son was sane.

Suddenly one of the securities ran out and whispered in the ears of Fanny.

“If he refuses to wear his cloths, then whip him and drag him out!” the billionaire beamed and shot his reddened, angry eyes at Brian’s chamber before returning his gaze on me.

Kate raised a furrowed brow before protesting, “But father that will not be nice. I suggest they take it easy on him and not whip him. Brian will wear his cloths,” she said and almost became all tears.

Those words tinkled in my ear. Whip? He refuses to wear clothes? Why would he refuse to wear his cloths? Why would they whip him? And who is actually this Brian.

Those questions dazed me so much that I couldn’t wait to see what the billionaire was up to.

Finally the billionaire’s order was carried out. Brian refused to wear his cloths.

“Ah! Ah! Ah! Aye!”

He groaned and wailed at the tops of his voice and I perceived they were whipping him now.

But why would a rightful thinking person refuse to wear his cloths? And why would they whip a grown up in his right senses. I was beginning to suspect mental derangement.

“Ah! Ah! Ah! Aye!”

The wailing ravaged the entire mansion, and Opula was forced to go on her knees and pled on his behalf.

“Father, please, I beg of you. Have mercy upon Brian you know his condition. If they continue to whip him with such callousness, they will hurt him and he doesn’t need to appear distraught since today is his day. I suggest we opt for gentler way of bringing him out…”

Fanny interrupted her, “Enough of that!” his voice frisked. “That boy has cost me a lot pain and impairment. He has embarrassed me before Rio Hondo. He has dragged the name of my family in the mud and if he is not careful, I will disown him and send him to the home for the insane. Yes I can do that!”

Fanny ground his jaw as I could see thunder and brimstone etched on his face. His expression hardened as he gazed upon Opula, who was still on her knees.

Opula bowed her head, “No father you would do no such thing,” decorum possessed her voice “Permit me to go right away and bring him peacefully,” she demanded.

Fanny gazed upon her with a mesh scowl on his face, as though he was reminding her that he would inflict more annoying pain on Brian if he should refused to come out with her.

“You may go and bring him if only he will cooperate with you”, he ordered.

At the time, the securities were still struggling with him and whipping the hell out of him. Brian’s heavy wailing and gnashing of teeth hung over us. And once Opula got there, every struggle came to an abrupt end and the wailing stopped. The whipping paused and gently she came out with Brian, and stood holding him by the arm.

The image struck in my head; those thick, pink, kissit lips, watery, blue eyes that smeared like the sky above, body that seemed skinny yet with traces of muscles and ridges he earned at the gym. Yet with those traces of cuteness, he was still looking unkempt with scraggly unshaven beards and saliva gathered around his mouth, just like the other day at the market.

I shouted, “You!” I pointed at him and felt like demanding for repayment of my vegetables which he squandered at the market

Everyone glared at me, and Fanny shot his frown at me in bewilderment.

“Wait a minute. Have you met my son before? Do you know Brian Fanny before now? “Fanny queried me and shot an obnoxious star ate me.

I pointed at him and broke down in tears. “This is the same mad boy that ate my raw vegetables at the market while I was fast asleep! It is him!” I wailed.

“You keep shut!” Opula barked at me, “How dare you refer to my only brother as mad, uh? What insolence,” her jaw clenched.

The barrister advanced just then and brought out some documents from his brief case.

“Melissa,” Fanny called yet again “You will sign to a contract marriage with my son this minute. You will become his legally married wife and be bound by the contract, and in return, I will give you this credit card of half a million dollars, which I believe will sort out your mother’s medical bills. He repeated himself more emphatically, “I will give you the money but you must sign a contract marriage with my mad son.”

I swallowed hard and rolled my tongue within my mouth to swallow hard yet again but couldn’t find any saliva. My entire body shook in fear and disgust. Balls of sweat had wet my brow and delivered chilled nervousness across my skin.

Me? Melissa? A virgin? What in the name of thunder would make me sign to a contract marriage with a mad man! What were they thinking? Were they thinking I would jump into the agreement because I was a poor vegetable seller? Or did they believe I would have no option than to accept the marriage because my mother was dying in the hospital?

I looked at Brian and I became even more irritated; his hair had turned gray, unkempt and thonglike. His hands were scraggly, grisly and beards unshaven, all over his mouth was saliva and each time he smiled, his oncewhite dentition flashed at me. The blisters and reddened fresh wounds on his body were in their numbers. His cloths were torn, and rumpled as rags. He often gave a toothy smile and scratched his beards and hair, even slapped his cheeks at interval.

Obviously this boy was violently mad and this rich family wanted me to sign to a horrible contract marriage because they knew I was earnestly in need of money.

No. it can’t be!

I raised my head confidently and said, “Sir, with all due respect I am not interested.

All eyes flashed at me…

I returned to the hospital all tears and sucked into my gloom. My head heaved upon me and I felt withdrawn from this world. What was that? Can somebody remind me what just happened at the Fanny’s mansion?

Am I dreaming or what? God forbid that I marry a mad man. How could they be so cruel and heartless? They knew I was in dire need of the money. They perceived the money meant the whole world to me right now and the only way they could rip me off it was to give me the condition of marrying their mad son.

Who does that? Can you imagine! I can’t picture myself settling down for a mad man all in the name of marrying a billionaire’s son. I was often niggled by its impossibility whenever I thought of it.

Mother’s health was plunging me into all this. I didn’t want my mother to die. Neither did I have money for burial. I was naïve and rudderless at the moment. I would be twenty two in few days and the last factor on my mind was marriage.

What would become of me now?

“You could still scuttle back to the Fanny’s and sign the contract marriage.” A voice said in my head.

“No. No” I mumbled within myself, rejecting the idea of returning to the Fanny’s villa to sign the contract marriage agreement. If I could remember the last time I peered between my legs I was still a virgin. I looked forward to the day I would fall in love, with a handsome looking, responsible man with his sanity intact and before that I would have been through with college.

I couldn’t imagine myself opening my legs for a madman. Oh my God. How would I survive staying in the same room with a mad man, who could bite me to death the next minute? I could feel the palpitation going in my heart and I could tell I was not fated to be married to a mad man.

His unkempt looks were still in my thought. The saliva that smeared around his mouth and unshaven beards still offended my decency. Hmm! no! There must be a way out.

A contract marriage wasn’t the way out and would never be.

I would speak sense into the doctor and he would treat mother on credit, later I will work hard and pay up; I thought.

Did I actually hear myself? Will I be able to pay back half a million dollars? Is it with the dirty looking vegetables I sell?

“Oh my God! I am stuck! No!”

I was swallowed in my predicament when the door creaked, opened, and the doctor pranced into the ward hastily.

I looked at his lab coat and the badge pinned on his chest and I saw his name; Dr. Peter Northwick. He looked elegantly charismatic and easygoing, but inwardly he could be a hard nut to crack.

“Oh Melissa, you are back right on time today” his voice sounded optimistic, and I wanted to take advantage of his contagious smile to demand he treat mother on credit.

“Yes, Dr. Peter,” I said calmly and lowered my gaze, not interested to lock eyes with him each time he dared to meet my gaze.

I wanted to speak yet further when he interposed me, “Do you have the half a million dollars now?”

I kept silent as the wind and fondled with my fingers. Would he ever be smart to know that this girl fondling with her fingers couldn’t afford a square meal let alone half a million dollars?

“Melissa! Am I not talking to you?” he let an emphatic tone and his expression hardened.

I cast a pitiable look at mother, who was on live support now. I stole a glance at mother and wished the doctor could follow my gaze and see enough reason that poor woman shouldn’t ‘kick the bucket.’

Doctor peter ground his jaw at me; indeed he was upset now. “Well I can see you don’t have the money. I believe you can see your mother’s condition; she is on life support. Do you know the meaning of life support?” he queried with his face peered at me as though he was my class teacher.

I raised a furrowed brow at him and forced a nod.

His lips curled when he said, “It means your mother is an inch away from death. I gave you twenty four hours. And by the time now it is eight hours to twenty four hours. As soon as it is time, I will disconnect the life support mechanism and she will breathe her last. That will be her abrupt end. I don’t think you know what autosomal dominant polycystic is.”

I fell on my knees. My eyes swam with tears as I pressed my lips together to fight back sob.

“Please doctor, I beg of you. Attend to my mother on credit. I promise to work hard and pay up later,” I wailed, and clenched on his feet.

“Can you hear yourself? If I may ask; may I know what you do for a living?” he queried, and gave me anxious glare.

“I didn’t want to reply him initially but for the anxiety hanging in his eyes.

“I – I” I stuttered, sniffed repeatedly and got swallowed in shame and peril. Unhesitant, I mumbled, “I am a vegetable seller.”

“Or did you forget to add poor to it? Do you think I don’t know you ar the poor vegetable seller at Rio Hondo Market? Listen up Melissa, or whatever you call yourself. You can’t afford half a million dollars even if you and your generations sell vegetables till the end of time.”

Those words by the doctor ravaged my heart so greatly that I covered my face in shame. Most of the horrible words spoken to me by people often resurrected forgotten nightmares about my poverty.

Indeed the poor were limited in this life and I have experienced it.

My lower lip trembled as I said coldly, “Ok doctor, please attend to my dying mother. Let her just stay alive while I and my generation work for you till the end of time without any salary. Please,” I begged and fell down to his legs.

“You must be insane,” he pulled out his feet from my grip. “Let go off my feet. You have twenty four hours! Twenty four hours!” he beamed and gave me a dirty look.

The door slammed – he had left as thunder.

I wailed, carried mother’s palms into mine as my tears trickled and dropped into her palms.

“How would you feel if the son of a billionaire whose sanity is not impaired is given to you in marriage because his family sees you are in need of money and marrying their mad son is the only price to pay?” I almost chafed at Nurse Stella.

At the time, I had taken my time to know most of the names of staff at the hospital.

And it was the same Nurse Stella that took me to the Fanny’s villa some days ago to see if the billionaire could be of help. She was the only one I could complain to. I wanted to seek her opinion.

All my life I have grown to be jaunty but this time I was losing it. What was going on in my life at the time was more than being trapped between the devil and the deep blue sea.

“I would feel bad and even go crimson. Why would they do that to you?” she intoned, gritted her teeth and let a sullen look on her face.

“The billionaire feels I can’t pay back half a million dollars so the only way I could do that was by signing to a contract marriage agreement with his mad son,” I nagged on, as warm tears burnt my eyes before it trickled down my cheeks.

She rubbed me on the shoulder and petted me. But I was already addle and going bananas. Mother’s ailment had brought upon me conditions I never thought could come my way.

I breathed hard, “That is my condition right now. The half a million dollars needed for mother’s treatment are ready but the price to pay is settling down with the billionaires mad son. Can you imagine,” I complained bitterly and wiped my tears.

My eyes narrowed.

She brought me into her embrace, wiped my tears and stroked my auburn hair. “I can imagine your plight right now. Life has never been fair to us.”

I brought an anxious gaze upon the wall clock and perceived I had just five hours to take a decision otherwise the doctor would do as he said.

That very Dr. Peter I saw some minutes ago was capable of doing what he said. He was mean and cruel, as though the Fanny’s bribed him to blow hot at me.

“But Melissa,” she spoke softly into my face and stroked my long, scattered auburn hair. Her voice seemed to be leaden with some iota of conviction, “What would you want? Would you want to keep to your perception while your mother dies like a kitten? How much can you sacrifice to save the one you love?”

I sniffed and shot my angersuffused face into her eyes. “What are you insinuating I do, uh? Are you telling me to scuttle back to the Fanny’s and sign to that contract marriage? Is that what you are insinuating?”

She shook her head, “Perk up, Melissa. Steady on. But I am sorry to say this. You just have to do the needful.”

My tears surged faster now. I swallowed hard, and was possessed slovenly by my impending fate. “Are you insinuating I return to the Fanny’s and sign to a contract marriage with the mad son, uh? Do you realize that I am at my prime and still a virgin?” my voice shrieked with sorrow.

She shook her head in pity and suddenly her eyes welled up with tears as she used her handkerchief to dab on it.

“I am so sorry to sound horrible, Melissa. I can feel the pain of a poor girl who is only wishing she could give her mother the best without the stringent conditions of life. Sometimes I wish we could take a leap at life without snapping our bones.”

I was wailing hugely now when what I heard next spiked into my ears.

“You just have to return to the Fanny’s, yes,” she affirmed cautiously, noticing I was going to be mad at her

I pulled from her and blinked nervously into her face. I glowered as I felt her words churn my stomach.

“I …”

She wanted to speak yet further and I interrupted. “I beg your pardon, nurse. Are you advising me to return to the Fanny’s and become the legally married wife of a mad man? Do you know how traumatized I would be? How do you expect me to share same roof, same bed, with a man that is not just insane but violently insane? Do you realize he is the most violent mad man in Rio Hondo? Oh my God …” I held onto my head and stroked it confusedly.

I held my face in total bewilderment and stroked my hair in disgust. How cruel and inconsiderable this life could be. Everything was hitting hard at me now.

“I would feel much hurt if we lose your mother. I would be disappointed in you if she dies while you could have saved her. I …”

“Keep shut now! Keep shut. Just …” my wailing voice interrupted me and choked back my words. “You know what, just go. I want to be left alone, let me think about my life.”

“I… I am sorry to sound horrible, Melissa. I mean well for you. But that is the price to pay if really your mother must stay alive for you.”

“I can’t imagine myself opening my legs for a mad man in the name of marriage. I can’t marry him!” I snapped …

“No, no, you mustn’t do that. All you need to do is sign the contract marriage, become his legal wife. You can share the same roof but not the same bed. You can deny him your body, and remain a virgin. Is he not mad? He has lost his sanity and doesn’t understand the word sex let alone feel horny like a normal, sane, person would?

I shook my head, “No, no, no, I don’t need your conviction anymore. I don’t need it. Oh my God. Why me? Why was I fated for this? Why?”

I wailed on with my trembling hands masking my face.

Suddenly, mother’s picture flashed in my head and it was accompanied with a conviction to do the needful. It was more tensed than clamor...

Nurse Stella and I stood staring at the Fanny’s villa while I was still all tears, with heavy sob which shook my entire body. I squeezed my eyes shut and felt sadness cloud my features.

I felt like a kid that was about to be sold for slavery. I was daunted, naive, stolen and abandoned to an impending fate. I gazed upon my scruffy self and swallowed hard at the thought of the decision I was about to make.

Nurse Stella grabbed me into her embrace, only wishing she could really be of help to me at the time. Had it been she could afford the half a million dollars, I believed she would have given it to me without a tinge of rejection.

Although I saw no sense in the advice yet there was an awakening that accompanied it. Yes. My thought was opened into an unfathomable recognition of the fact that once my mother ‘kicked the bucket,’ I would never set my eyes on her again.

She was all I had at the time, my essence, my now and future. She may not know the sacrifice I was about getting to because she was in coma.

But then I wondered what would be her reaction if she should get to find out her only child was made sign to a contract marriage with a mad son to the richest man in Rio Hondo just to pay her hospital bills.

Would she be perturbed? Or would she boil with disdain and ruin? Wouldn’t she curse me and see me as a drab hence forth?

A lot paced through my porous mind as I gazed upon the Fanny’s villa.

“Come on, Melissa, perk up, be of good cheer,” she rubbed me on the shoulder and shook me slightly.

“I… I can’t believe I am doing this right now, can someone wake me up from this nightmare and remind me it is just a mere marriage?”

Tears lined my eyes as I dared to fight back more of it from trickling.

Nurse Stella caught my morose face, wiped my tears and intoned, “Trust me. You will be fine. I will try to check up on you from time to time. You just have to do what I just told you. You …”

I interjected, “You won’t understand the emotional trauma I am fazed with right now. It is easier said than done. Do you think I can share a roof with a mad man without a quest for my body someday? Have you considered the dilemma it will compound on my womanhood?

She shook her head in the affirmative and gave me a wink of assurance.

I shook my head in disapproval. “I don’t believe you do, Stella. I don’t,” I beamed. “What about my safety? I hear mad men could be violent most times, even unexpectedly, I could be bitten, I could be pummeled by this mad man. Do you ever think about that? Do you know the series of harm I would suffer sharing same roof and bed with him? Do you know that mad son of Fanny Luis is the most violent mad man in Rio Hondo?”

I asked as though she had the solution to my predicament.

“I understand your internal squabble. Trust me, I do, but what do you intend to do now? Should we fold our arms and watch your mother die?

She held my warm, teary face, and what she said next really got to me that I felt my heart melting within me.

“I wish I could take your place and fetch you the money. I wish they could sense the beauty in me just as they saw the one in you and make me their mad son’s contracted wife. I would be glad to give in to their demands, just to earn the money and give to you so that your mother could be attended to but I am happily married.”

I sniffed, felt chilled on my face as the whirl wind blew across us. I quickly wiped my tears. I took solace in her words and fought back the pang of fear in me.

She breathed hard and perceived the relief on my face. I hugged her for a time that seemed eternal. I started sobbing again as my thought returned to my shattered countenance.

“Go Melissa,” she intoned, somewhere around my ears, “Dr. Peter is a sadist and an inconsiderable doctor. He would do as he said.”

I snorted into her face and smacked my lips. Words were too heavy for my lips to bear right now, so I said nothing.

“Just try your best and go. I will be waiting at the hospital. As soon as you sign the contract marriage and get the one million dollars credit card, please run straight to the hospital and make sure the doctor see to your mother’s treatment. Autosomal kidney failure is terminal.”

This time I didn’t shake my head. No blinking of eyes. I just stood gaping and staring into her face. I was yet to believe my fate. I threw my gaze at the mansion and returned it back to her. I couldn’t reject the offer yet I wished it never existed.

Gradually I advanced to the mansion, sobbing, wiping endless tears, casting my stare upon the mansion and returning same upon Stella.

She was all tears now. I could perceive the uneasiness in her trembling hands that waved at me. She had put herself in my shoes and saw what I was going to suffer in the name of marriage.

Almost getting to the major entrance, I paused and shivered like the strings on a guitar. I was downtrodden in tears now. My brow burnt with sheer torment. Anybody would have felt same way because marriage with a sane man wasn’t easy let alone a mad man.

“Go on, Melissa, you will finish strong! May good fate smile at you! May the God of the poor see you through in this marriage! He may be mad but his heart is waiting for your arrival! This is more than fate.”

Those words from Stella seemed to quench my restiveness, and then I threw a striking gaze upon the mansion and walked in…