The Twisted Heirs: A Billionaire's Greed

[RAELYNN'S POINT OF VIEW]Daphne does a fantastic job in patching him up. He's stripped of his clothes, with only but his underwear covering his lower half and his upper body is wrapped securely with a bandage. He lies on my bed with his chest rising up and down undisturbing.Daphne and I stand at the edge of the bed with our arms across our chests. We watch his unconscious form silently.“What do you think is going to happen when he wakes up?” Daphne thinks out loud. I shrug. “I don't know. He doesn't have a criminal face." He looks too handsome to be a criminal.His jawline is chiseled. His brows are thick. His nose is straight. His lips are full. His hair is a shade of black. His body is muscular with toned arms, chest and shit, his abs. He looks like a man who just ambled out of the front magazine. I immediately tear my gaze away. Daphne cast me a look. “And what do you know about criminal faces? This guy has no wallet or a cell or an address on him; that’s more reason to believ

[REIGN'S POINT OF VIEW]Death becomes something you no longer fear when you have countered it several times; it becomes nothing new and even expect it every minute of the day when you are the type of man that I am. A man that has so many enemies more than allies.As soon as the call ends, I flip the phone on the nearest table just as the door opens and the kinder friend enters with a paper bag. She looks hesitant as she approaches the bed. My behavior earlier must have planted a seed of doubt.Compared to Daphne, this one is pretty. Heart-shaped face with a smooth and creamy complexion. Amber eyes shone with brightness as if the world hadn't done any damage. Her hair is black and straight, and it falls down her back and her build is slender. Unfortunately, I have felt it.“You should eat.” She places the paper bag on the table. Despite the look of uncertainty in her eyes, there is a smile on her face that slowly morphs into a frown as her gaze lands on the phone. “This is Daphne’s p

[RAELYNN'S POINT OF VIEW]“You are fired.”Those are the words that greeted me when I entered my boss's office, Mr. Dante. I pause abruptly at the door, like a deer caught in the spotlight. “What?” I choke out. Maybe I misheard him? He can't fire me.He tsks and leans back on his twirling seat behind his desk. His brown eyes pin me. “You heard me. You are fired.”“But why? I haven't done anything to get fired.” I look at him with vast eyes.He shrugs. "I don't need a reason to fire you. Your services are no longer needed here. This place is getting crowded; paying you all is difficult. Make sure you are out of here in the next 30 minutes."I stare at him like a fish out of water, gaping with the words hanging in my throat, but I cannot force them out. My shoulder drops, I turn and walk out of his office. Knowing Mr. Dante, no amount of begging is going to make him change his mind. He is that cold-hearted. With a sigh and my shoulders slumping lower, I turn and leave his office.*~*I f

(RAELYNN'S POINT OF VIEW)It's been a day since we arrived at the mansion, and I must confess it was the most peaceful I've ever slept in, without being woken up by the noisiness of the neighbors, but the peacefulness was soon cut short when Ms. Alice comes knocking on all our doors, and we found ourselves out in a straight line, dressed in our maids' outfits, which is a deep, inky black with a fitted bodice, tailored to flatter but not cling, reaching just below the knees. I like it.Ms Alice looks at us with a calculating gaze that looks almost judging before she finally voices, “Stand straighter.” It was like our bodies moved automatically to the sound of her voice as we straighten our poor posture. So this is what it's like working in the mansion?“I am guessing you all slept well last night,” she begins as she holds her hands behind her. “Yesterday I wasn’t able to inform you of the rules of the mansion. There are ten rules you must follow while working in this mansion: No Speakin

(RAELYNN'S POINT OF VIEW)On the fifth day of working at the mansion, I finally witnessed the Montgomery family together for the first time. The dinner table is filled with bickering; everyone is lashing out at each other. Twenty chairs are almost all filled, and silverware clinks sharply against plates. Their voices overlap in bursts of laughter, yet they hold no warmth. It's like being in a fortress of egos competing for attention.From where I stand with the other maids, I watch silently in shock, ready to step in at the drop of a fork. Across the table, Mrs Lila, the eldest daughter, who looks over 50, leans forward, her eyes pinned on her sister, Pam, and her husband. Her eyes are judging."Of course, some of us don’t have to worry about real work," she sneers. "Was it just one smart investment or was it a stroke of pure luck?"Pam's mouth twitches, but she smiles, too sharp to be friendly. "Oh, dear, real work doesn’t suit everyone," she replies with a chuckle. "I prefer smart w