The Billionaire's Second Choice: Running away with his kids.

"Watch your step, ma'am," warned the taxi driver, lending a hand to help me with my suitcase.

Exiting the taxi, I settled the fare and expressed my gratitude to the driver. The city air, so familiar from my childhood, filled my lungs with joy. The sun's warmth and the gentle rustle of leaves enhanced the moment. Letting my hair down from its previously messy bun, I revealed the elegance and beauty within.

Walking along the pavement toward my house, anxiety crept over me. This place, once my parents' home, held painful memories. My mom had passed away just before I started college, a time when I couldn't share my joy with her. My father swiftly replaced her with a new family, bringing in a mistress and her daughter. I suspected they were in the picture even while my mom was alive, given that my stepsister was a year younger.

Life had turned into a nightmare since the arrival of my stepmother and stepsister. Initially excited about having a stepsibling, I found myself ignored and mistreated by Stephanie. Both Linda, my stepmother, and Stephanie joined forces to taunt and insult me, making college preparations agonizingly slow. Chores piled up, and my complaints to my father only worsened the situation. Richard, my father, not only showed disgust but also accused me of causing my mother's death.

Entering my home, I noticed a few changes in fore familiar surroundings. Searching for my mother's picture, I breathed a sigh of relief upon finding it. My father, stepmother, and stepsister awaited me in the living room as if anticipating my arrival. I greeted my father, receiving a mere nod in response. Turning to my stepmother, I was met with a mocking stare.

"You don't have to look at her that way, Mom," Stephanie said, her mother laughing in response.

"Hi, Stephanie," I greeted my sister, but she mirrored the disdainful look her mother had given me, and they both busted into a mockery laughter.

I tried to make my way to my room, but my father stopped me, insisting he had something important to say.

Fear gripped me. I wondered if it was about my college tuition, a budget cut he had attempted before I left for college.

"Dad, can it wait? I'm really tired," I pleaded.

"It can't wait; it's very important," he insisted.

I placed my suitcase near the walkway to my room and sat on the single-seater, opposite him and away from my stepmother and sister.

“Maddie, I was approached by an investor to whom I owed money," he began, “I haven't been able to make the complete payment of the loan I took from him."

“So, what did the investor want?" I asked, stating the obvious.

“He said that in exchange for a cleared debt, I would have to agree to an arranged marriage between him and one of my daughters, who is a virgin.”

“What?" both Stephanie and I exclaimed simultaneously.

“What does that mean, Dad? Will I have to marry him?" I questioned, exchanging a glance with my sister, who was already glaring at me. The entire community knows her as promiscuous, touched by almost everyone in the area, and she shows no respect to her name.

“Yes, Maddie, that's the point of telling you, isn't it?” my father almost shouted.

“No! Richard, she doesn't get to have a nice life, and my daughter is stuck here,” my stepmother interrupted.

“I didn't say I was done, Linda," he said slowly, taking his eyes from the flow towards Linda and then facing me.

“You don't get to marry him; you get to sleep with him; your sister is the one getting married.”

.My head felt heavy, my throat dried up, and my legs went numb; it was as if I had lost control of my own body. My step sister and mother shared my astonishment at my father's shocking statement.

"Dad, this would ruin me," I said slowly, tears welling up.

"So, you won't help me; is that what you're saying?" He asked, rising from his chair and advancing towards me.

“I never said that; I have always helped you ever since mom died,” I tried to explain.

“Don't say her name,” he roared at me, blaming me for my mom’s death as he always did.

“You were the one who wanted to stay in school; you didn't care," he continued shouting. At that point, I couldn't take it anymore. I stood up, stared directly into his eyes, and spoke.

“I didn't care," I shouted and cried, “You never told me mom was sick, and that was because you didn't know yourself." He was about to raise his hands on me when my stepmother intervened.

“No, my dear," she said to my father, bringing a bit of ease. My stepmother had never protected me from my father's aggression before, and I was curious about why she chose to do so now.

“There are other ways to go about all this," she stated. Realizing she wasn't rescuing me, I thought to myself. As she spoke, I saw my father’s face light up with remembrance.

"What, my dear?" she said, clearly enjoying the drama. Stephanie sat back, reveling in the whole spectacle.

“You are going to do this, or you are an orphan; if you don't do this, you can say goodbye to your college funding and a family."

“Dad! I am your daughter," I pleaded, tears streaming down my face.

“Yeah, you are; that is why you are going to do this," he said before leaving the sitting room.

I knew I couldn't appeal to him anymore, so I turned to my stepmother.

"Please, Linda, talk to him; what if I were your own daughter?" I said, kneeling. She looked at me with disdain and spoke.

"My daughter is going to be a wealthy woman soon," she laughed and left the sitting room. I turned to Stephanie, who just shrugged me off and left. It was evident she was the happiest in the room.

I sat in the living room, wailing in tears, with no idea what to do, and no one coming to help me.