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CHAPTER 14: WHAT ORIENTATION?
publish date:
2026-02-15 20:47:43
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"May I come in," Emma said. "We need to talk."Rowland stepped aside reluctantly and Emma walked in.His office was large and cozy. Behind the study desk was a huge book shelf that climbed all the way to the ceiling. And seated in front of the desk, back turned to Emma, was Clara. Her head swung round to see Emma enter the room, then she turned back to face the other way without saying a word."You're supposed to be dressed in your uniform." Rowland rounded his desk and stood on the other side."About that, I was hoping we could talk privately," Emma said."Whatever you want to say to me, you can say it in front of my sister," Rowland said and rested his fingers lightly on the desk."Okay. You said out there that I'm a worker here and now you talk of me joining the maids but that's not what we agreed on earlier.""If you're not a worker here then what are you doing in my house?""I'm your wife," Emma said point blank.Rowland and Clara exchanged a bewildered look. Clara crossed one le
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The words in the note reverberated through Emma's mind. Her hand instinctively went to her back pocket and retrieved it. She read the note again and replaced it in her pocket. "Where can I find Monsieur Diouf?""His office is up there on the landing. Turn left, second door." Lori said."I need to talk to him about something," Emma said."I have work to do, I wouldn't want Madam to come back and find me standing here." Lori began to leave. "Word of advice. Whatever you do here, you don't want to mess with Madam. She decides who stays here and who leaves. Not even Rowland can save you if she wants you gone."Emma shrugged. "Well, thanks. I'll keep that in mind."She climbed up the grand staircase. Her hand grazed the smooth mahogany banister and she peered up at the ceiling to behold silver crystals hanging from the ceiling like frozen falling rain.Now up on the first floor landing, Emma was face to face with a collection of portraits on the opposite wall. She could tell they were fam
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..."I'm Mr. Rowland's wife," Emma said.Those five words held the room by the throat. A sharp collective gasp swept through the line of workers.Madam maintained a steady gaze at her."Well, that's a new one," Madam blurted out after a few seconds.The initial shock of that bold statement had dissipated by now and the workers broke into hushed murmuring.Emma regretted those words the moment they slipped out of her lips. The words had just rolled out of her lips before she remembered the Non-Disclosure Agreement she had signed. But luckily for her, Mr. Montero wasn't present and no one appeared to believe what she had just said.Madam slipped the glove off her hand and repositioned it under her belt. "In the sixteen years I have been here, I have seen and heard some wild things from new, clueless workers but that right there..." She pointed a finger at Emma. "What you said...that takes it."Just then, the murmuring died down. Some of the workers quickly lowered their eyes down to t
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'Have they finally brought me something to eat, this late?' Emma wondered. The thought of opening the door crossed her mind but she quickly decided against it. "Who's that?" She whispered with a shaky voice. "Mr. Diouf?" There was no answer.Her heart pounded hard.Before she could make up her mind on what to do, she heard the sound of footsteps retreat from her door and fade away in the distance.She thought it better to find out in the morning.Between the biting hunger and fear, it took her a long time to sleep. She kept tossing and turning for until at one point she fell asleep out of sheer exhaustion. * * * * *By the time she woke up the next morning, the sun was already up. Emma lazily got into the shower, freshened up and changed. She walked to the door only to see a small piece of paper folded beneath it. Emma bent down quicker than a ten year old who had found a penny on the ground. When she unfolded the paper and read the note, her heart skipp
BEG FOR ME, MR. BILLIONAIRE CHAPTER 14: WHAT ORIENTATION?
Monsieur Diouf marched across the large entrance hall and made for a high arched door on the left. Emma kept close at his heels. A pair of double doors, made of tall dark panelled wood, stood to the left of the grand staircase. The french butler opened them, "This way, miss."The heavy doors swung inward to reveal the west gallery.Emma's face lit up as she walked in."Wow!" She whispered.Monsieur Diouf turned to Emma who was looking closely at one of the canvases on the wall."This is the West Promenade," he said, "the family's collection."Emma shook her head in awe at the spacious corridor. 'This alone is wide enough to be someone's whole house.' she mused quietly. She couldn't take her eyes off of the oil paintings and tapestries lined along the walls. The space felt less like part of a home and more like a private museum. She paused, staring at one after another. Enormous, dramatic scenes of battle, storm-torn seas, and a depiction of a ceremonial dance by some primitive cult
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The drive took about two hours. First, they tore through the city square. Then the towers and skyscrapers fell behind. Streets grew wider, quieter and cleaner. Even the air felt fresher here. Buildings become fewer, each set back behind massive iron gates with long drive ways. After some time, The roar of the city and hum of traffic disappeared totally. They were welcome to Wesley Heights by chirping of birds and occasional distant barking of a dog.The long drive had a cathartic effect on Emma. Just watching the beautiful hilly terrains and enjoying the fresh air out here purged her of the negative emotions.'It almost feels like the countryside,' she thought.Houses here were mini estates. Emma could see maids watering flower beds infront of these homes. Occasionally, a sports car would roar through these gates onto the empty street.The car slowed as they turned into a particularly long driveway lined by towering palm trees. The gate infront of them was black iron, a bold 'M' sig
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