MILES:
"Grenada, I told you that I’m fine. I don’t need babysitting. If I’ve lived this long, survived a heart transplant, recuperating shouldn’t be an issue."
"I’m just doing my job, Mr. Pierce. Besides, you signed an agreement to allow me to handle your health for life. Now, you’ve to follow my guidelines for six months, and you can fully go back to doing what you want."
It was becoming irritating; after my heart transplant and successful discharge two weeks ago, everyone treated me like a fragile being. No one seemed to heed my instructions or follow my orders. I returned to find my security team tripled, and when I confronted my head of security, he claimed it was an instruction I'd given before the surgery. They made it seem like I had partial amnesia, as I couldn’t recall initiating numerous changes to my schedule, house, and staff.
Not to worry, in a little time, things will return to normal. Meaning that many would lose their jobs. Did they think I had changed or something as minor as this would slow me down? If I was prepared for death and life gave me a second chance, the least I could do was make the most out of it.
For those unfamiliar with me, I am Miles Pierce, the most feared thirty-four-year-old billionaire in California. I've dominated the business realm, building companies that rake in roughly a billion dollars yearly after tax. When it comes to looks, I know I’m a rare creation, and my workout routine has helped maintain it. Although one can never have everything, and that was my case until an unexpected miracle happened.
Three years ago, I had a perfect life until they found a lump in my heart during one of my health checkups. Initially told not to worry, a few medications and minor surgery should suffice. With reassurance, I returned to my daily activities, listening and following instructions.
The universe had other plans for me, so I scheduled a follow-up checkup to learn more.
"Mr. Pierce," I remembered vividly; that was what Grenada called me. A moment that changed everything.
"Shoot. Good news or bad news? Don’t give me that pitiful look," I admonished her as I sat on the examination table, buttoning my suit.
“It’s bad news. A terrible one,” she hesitated, causing my impatience to rise.
“For goodness’ sake, out with whatever it is already. It’s getting on my nerves. I have an important meeting to attend,” I snapped, irritated by the delay.
Exhaling, she zoomed in on the image before me. “You might as well reschedule your meeting. The lump has grown worse. As it is, it has occupied eighty percent of your heart. It appears to me that it grew immune to the treatments and fought against the antibiotics instead.”
“I am lost. Can you break it down for me? Because all I hear is how incompetent my personal doctor is. What do you mean by 'it seems?' I don't pay you well for things to ‘seem’ to you. If you don’t know your job, I’ll educate you on it.”
Standing to my feet with swift force, I felt queasy, almost tripping on my own feet. Readjusting myself to get a better stance, I settled on the vacant chair close to me, attempting to regain my strength. It dawned on me that I was truly sick, and it was no joke.
“Miles,” Grenada called me once more, her serious tone cutting through.
“Instead of giving me more insight into the problem, I want a solution. Lots of it. How much would it cost to get this over with?”
“I am afraid money can’t fix this one. We need a heart transplant as soon as possible, or you will die.”
Death existed; that much I was aware of. Yet, I never thought it would stare me in the face so soon. Of all the people, it chose to attack me, rendering my guard defenseless. For what it’s worth, it could have taken some random person complaining about life or, better still, an ungrateful human trying to commit suicide. Yeah. Those were better options. Not me. I loved life so much because it was great for me. So, to have something tamper with my life left me beyond perplexed.
“Did you hear me, Miles?” Grenada swirled her chair as if she hadn’t just announced my impending demise. Looking all too comfortable and happy. How could she wear a stupid glowing face when I was about to die?
“I heard you. Do you have one ready to use? I mean the heart, of course.”
She shook her head a bit and put on her dead-serious face once more. “It doesn’t work that way. We need to put you on the waiting list. Moreover, it isn’t something you can buy off the shelf. It is a heart that needs to be relinquished by a donor.”
“All I hear is a problem without a solution. Tell me a solution.”
Linking her hands on top of the desk, she stared into my eyes without blinking. “We need to run a comprehensive test to find out what donor you need. Wait and pray that you get a match. It’s the only thing we can do.”
That was the last time I heard anything positive from my doctor until two years and three months later. It was always a negative answer. “Sorry, Mr. Pierce, we haven’t heard from the other hospitals yet. Sorry, Mr. Pierce, this one wasn’t a match. We are doing our best, Mr. Pierce. There’s nothing else for us to do. We’ve exhausted all our options, Mr. Pierce. We can only hope for a miracle.”
I received more apologies and faced numerous disappointments throughout those terrible two years and three months, making me give up. I accepted my fate of dying young and quickly. It led me to start putting things in place to make it easier after my demise. I also plotted revenge on my enemies.
Nevertheless, something different happened. I never believed in the fiction of miracles. I was the kind of guy who preferred scientific explanations to religious or spiritual ones. When the impossible happened, I was moved to retrace my stand on miracles.
Seven months ago, as I angrily swallowed the tons of pills keeping me alive, my phone buzzed on the bedside table. Ignoring the furious buzzing, I dropped the glass of water and cursed. “Who the fuck is blowing up my phone this early?” Reluctantly, I picked up the phone, preparing to shout the living daylight out of whoever it was.
Immediately I answered the call, I heard a voice and news that made me freeze. “Mr. Pierce, we’ve found a donor!” Grenada’s voice announced with overwhelming excitement in her tone.
That was truly an end to a beginning.
Nine months later… MILES:Given another chance, I'd choose Meredith. It's just unfair no one shared the pregnancy manuscript or advised waiting. Our incredible honeymoon across seven countries resulted in Meredith unexpectedly getting pregnant. I'd planned to enjoy ourselves a bit longer before diving into parenthood, but life had other plans. The journey became a whirlwind and a battleground. I actively participated in our pregnancy, cherishing the moments. Yet, Meredith's emotions were a rollercoaster. She craved only the company of Brandon, Zara, and Sarah. Unless she sought intimacy, I was on the sidelines. Sex became frequent, anywhere she desired. She ate and cried excessively. I urged her to rest, avoiding work to focus on herself. Bored, she picked up new hobbies like painting and knitting. Habits changed; she turned into a neat freak and often scolded me, but I didn't mind. Overall, she blossomed, with fuller breasts and curvier hips. Mrs. Pierce became my constant fantasy.
MEREDITH: Miles, true to his word, made sure I didn't do anything at all at the wedding. My greatest contributions were "yes" or "no." He had everything and everyone over. He also "fired" me, saying that he wanted me to glow at my wedding and that working would stress me. Zara, Grenada, Sarah, Lucinda, and even Brandon were actively involved. I received so much love and gifts that I had to convert one of the vacant rooms into a gift room. Miles began renovating the house to suit my taste, even though I protested that I was okay with the old layout of the house. He disagreed, changing colors, bringing new furniture, and adding feminine touches to certain parts of the house. The long-awaited day finally came. In all honesty, the days went by quickly. We decided on a private wedding close to a beach in Fiji. It was our best decision. We had the day decorated in gold and black. There were chairs for just a hundred guests, arranged in rows of fifty on each side, overlooking the altar, wh
MILES: "Come." I took her hand through the back door to our balcony. As soon as we were outside, I was on my knee again. "Marry me. Again. Meredith Tate, soon to be Meredith Pierce." This time, I had the ring with me. "Yes. Yes. Yes!" I slipped it on her finger, and we kissed. "Oh, my. It is beautiful. Everything is." I had roses all over the balcony, a bottle of champagne and two glasses in an ice bucket waiting, and a gigantic picture of Christian. "Sorry, I sent you to the kitchen. I was asking him for permission," I pointed at Christian's picture. "He said he wouldn't have allowed you to be with anyone else but me," I boasted. I wish he were here. I would have loved to have had a younger brother too. Meredith was already sobbing. I could tell she was grateful for my thoughtfulness. She hugged and kissed the picture of her brother. I held her close to me as we stared out from the balcony, sipping our champagne. Once more, she glanced at her ring. "Thank you, Miles. Thank you. I
MEREDITH: After disappearing from Miles's life months ago, I felt empty. To occupy myself, I worked as a volunteer on various projects in the place I relocated to, with the most prominent and peaceful one being animal rescue. During that time, I regained myself and rediscovered that he was my happiness, and I wanted to be with him for as long as we lasted. Two days ago, at the last minute, my lovely boss gathered me and the team to inform us that we had received a VIP invitation to a children's charity program in California. After hearing all the details, I couldn't resist attending. Believe me, the idea was to slip in and out without encountering him. I wasn't ready for that interaction, or truthfully, I feared facing him. I should have known something was up when my boss handed over clothes, shoes, and jewelry, claiming that every member of the team got the same package. I should have known a hot billionaire had a hand in it. Upon our arrival, as I listened to his speech and heard
Four months later... MILES: Despite my efforts to locate her, Meredith managed to elude me. She did an excellent job of hiding, but I was even more determined. My sources eventually tracked her down to a remote island in Africa where she had flown to. I had no intention of disrespecting her wishes, nor did I want to leave her alone. From a distance, I kept a close watch on her, deploying my men strategically and occasionally flying down myself to observe her activities. She volunteered at a local zoo, dedicated to wildlife conservation. It was evident she hadn't forgotten about me, as she often drunkenly confessed how much she missed me and our intimacy. On such nights, I would escort her back to her apartment. I admit, I even observed her in private moments, finding myself mirroring her actions. However, despite the satisfaction, I grew weary of this distant observation. I longed to be close to her, to have her by my side. Meanwhile, Steele sold the stadium to me, with the conditi
MILES: Her words melted my heart. I leaned in and kissed her passionately, savoring every moment as our tongues danced together. Going back to my seat, I told her everything that had happened in her absence and how Neymar and Britney were involved. "We can never truly know anyone, I guess." She also told me everything that had happened when Alan took her and how she was able to escape. We spent an hour talking, interspersed by moments of light laughter and occasional sobs from her. I was surprised that we both had the energy to converse after our lovemaking. Though I had her, though she had forgiven me, though everything was over, I still felt guilt. I felt a heavy burden of guilt because I believed I could have saved Christian. "Meredith, I have something to tell you." She moved onto her side to face me. "Go ahead," she said, beaming with a smile. "I think I might be responsible for Christian's death," I confessed. She shot upright. "How so?" I sat up too and narrated the whol