The Billionaire And His One Night Stand

Los Angeles, Sebastian

Frustration and anger boiled within me as I watched the television screen, my emotions reaching a breaking point. I couldn’t believe what I was witnessing. “What the hell is wrong with this guy!” I yelled, unable to contain my irritation any longer. With a swift and furious motion, I threw the remote control at the TV, the impact causing a loud crack and shattering the screen.

My phone, which had been constantly ringing throughout the evening, now buzzed incessantly. I grabbed it from the coffee table and saw that it was my father calling. Of course, it was him.

I rolled my eyes in frustration before swiping my finger across the screen to answer the call. I knew exactly what was coming another lecture, another tirade about the never-ending scandals that seemed to follow me like a dark cloud.

“Scandals after scandals!” my father bellowed in an angry tone as soon as I picked up. “What do you have to say about this, Sebastian?!”

I rubbed my temples, feeling the tension building within me. “I don’t know, Dad,” I admitted wearily, “but what I do know is that he’s only talking bullshit. I’ll tell my PR team to get rid of it.” At this point, my PR team deserved a 100% raise and a long vacation after dealing with the constant chaos that seemed to surround me.

“Your mother and I can’t even go to church anymore!” my dad continued, his annoyance palpable. “The pastor called us a bunch of sinners.” His words stung, and I couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt.

“Not only are you creating problems for yourself by not marrying the girl as soon as possible,” he scolded, “but you’re also ruining our lives!”

I took a deep breath, trying to keep my composure despite the mounting pressure. It was infuriating to hear my parents being judged by the very person who should be offering them solace and guidance. The pastor had his own vices, frequently visiting strip clubs, yet he had the audacity to call my parents sinners.

“I’ll take care of it, Dad,” I assured him, my tone more controlled now. “You better hurry up, Sebastian,” he warned, his voice laced with exasperation. “I am tired of all these scandals and drama.”

With that, he ended the call, leaving me to simmer in my own frustration and guilt. I threw my phone onto the couch and buried my face in my hands, overwhelmed by the relentless challenges that seemed to surround me.

I sighed heavily as I messaged the head of PR, urging them to take immediate action to address the latest scandal that had erupted. The situation had spiraled out of control, and it was time to contain the damage and regain control of the narrative.

After sending the message, I knew that my PR team would work diligently to solve the issue, employing their expertise to minimize the fallout. It was the least I could do to protect not only my own reputation but also to spare Mia from the relentless scrutiny that had plagued our lives.

With that task set in motion, I dialed Mia’s number, fully aware that she must be a wreck by now. Her trembling voice confirmed my suspicions as she answered, “Hey.”

“You have seen it,” I stated, acknowledging the distressing situation we found ourselves in.

Mia let out a shaky sigh, and I could hear the tears in her voice. “Yes,” she sniffed, her exhaustion and frustration evident. “Just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse after my parents’ drama, I had to add this one to the list.”

I felt a pang of guilt knowing that Mia was bearing the brunt of the consequences of our relationship, which had been thrust into the public eye. I knew I had to do something to make things better for her, to ensure she could at least enjoy her pregnancy without constant stress.

“I told my PR team to handle it, so don’t worry about that,” I reassured her, hoping to provide some relief.

Mia’s voice softened with gratitude. “Thank you, Sebastian,” she said sincerely.

“Hey, how about when I fly you out on Friday, I show you around first before heading to my parents’?” I suggested, hoping to bring a spark of excitement into her life.

“That would be nice,” Mia replied, her voice brightening slightly at the prospect of a change of scenery.

“Great, pack some extra clothes,” I advised, wanting her to be prepared for a few days away from the chaos.

“I will,” she promised, her tone filled with anticipation.

There was a short silence between us before Mia spoke again, her exhaustion evident. “I’ll head to bed,” she said. “Today was a long day.”

“Goodnight,” I said softly, my heart heavy with the knowledge that Mia had been through so much.

“Goodnight,” she replied, her voice carrying a hint of weariness and vulnerability.

As I ended the call, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of responsibility and determination to make things right. The challenges and scandals that surrounded us were far from over, but I was determined to protect Mia, to give her the support and stability she deserved during her pregnancy.

Feeling a mixture of frustration and exhaustion, I left the living room and headed to the kitchen, seeking solace in the simple act of making food. The events of the day had taken a toll on me, and I needed a moment of respite.

In the kitchen, I decided on a quick and easy option, making a sandwich with salami and cheese. As I assembled the ingredients, my mind wandered to the numerous unanswered emails and meetings that awaited me. During my recent trip to New York, I had instructed my personal assistant to reschedule all my meetings, and now I found myself faced with three meetings scheduled for tomorrow. The exhaustion threatened to engulf me as I contemplated the busy day ahead.

I settled at the kitchen island with my sandwich in hand, taking bites while scrolling through my emails on my phone. The list of messages seemed endless, and I couldn’t help but sigh at the mounting workload. I knew I had to tackle it all, but the weight of responsibility felt particularly heavy tonight.

With my meal finished and my emails reviewed, I made a mental note to prioritize my rest. I needed to be well-prepared for the busy day ahead, and that meant getting a good night’s sleep.Text property © Nôvel(D)ra/ma.Org.

I headed towards my room, my steps deliberate and purposeful. Plugging my phone into the charger, I decided to take a quick shower to clear my mind and prepare for bed. The warm water cascaded over me, washing away some of the tension and fatigue that had accumulated throughout the day.

After my shower, I emerged from the bathroom feeling refreshed and determined to get a good night’s sleep. I knew that an early start was essential to tackle the upcoming meetings and responsibilities.

I settled into bed, the soft sheets and pillows providing a comforting embrace. My eyelids began to droop as I drifted into a state of relaxation. Just as I was about to surrender to the embrace of sleep, my phone screen began to flash, interrupting the tranquility of the room.

Frowning, I reached for my phone, curious about the unexpected message. It was from an unknown number, and a chill ran down my spine as I opened it, not knowing what to expect.

The message was chilling in its simplicity and menace: “Get rid of that baby or suffer the consequences.”