Billionaire Daredevil In Love

CLAYTON.

The day finally arrived, the day of my thirty third birthday party. It fell on a Thursday, but I had it moved to Friday, a proper party day. Invitees included company executives, my business partners, moguls and tycoons in various sectors of the economy, and my many friends. The party began by late afternoon. My plan was for it to extend into the night and possibly the late hours of the morning. The party went on fine. There was enough booze, and the guests indulged themselves to the fullest. It was fun, and a lively energy suffused the house. But there was one bit of problem, I had not seen Nadine since the party began. I went to her room and found her splayed on the bed.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” I bellowed and she started.

“I’m exhausted, Clayton,” she said.

“What does that even mean?” I said as I walked into the room and shut the door behind me. “You literally sit in this house doing nothing, just eating and sleeping, and now you’re tired? What the fuck have you done that is making you tired?”

“I spent the night with my sister at the hospital, Clayton, and I also spent the better part of today there” she said. “It wasn’t easy. Please, let me have my rest.”

I could hear the tiredness in her voice and I could see it in how her body was spread on the bed like ruffled sheets. But I was not going to budge. I walked towards the bed and grabbed her by the wrist.

“Look, Nadine,” I said forcefully, “you’re my wife, okay? Whether you fucking like it or not. I have guests, and it’s not a good look if you, my wife, are absent from the celebration, okay?”

She groaned before getting up.Property © 2024 N0(v)elDrama.Org.

“Okay, fine,” she said, surrendering. “I’ll come downstairs for your party. But give me time to dress at least, okay?”

“Fine,” I said, even though I found it absurd that she needed space to dress up, considering the fact that I was her husband, but I left anyway.

The party was moved to the rooftop balcony of my mansion, and all the guests crowded there. Some of them left as it had already gotten late. In about half an hour, Nadine came up. She looked dazzling in her knee length gown and I was almost proud of her, but Natasha stood close by and had hee hawkish eyes on me.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Trent said, “Nadine Moore-Rocco, wife of the celebrant.”

The crowd’s reception was somewhat lukewarm as many of them hardly knew her. There were a few cheers and nothing more. One of the disadvantages of marrying a nobody. She stared daggers at Trent who recoiled under her look, but she advanced slowly to where I stood. One of the stewards handed her a champagne flute and she sipped as she walked.

“What took you so long?” I asked.

“I was getting dressed,” she answered.

Just then, someone came in and all eyes turned to look at him. It was Enzo, my elder brother. He had an elegance around him, this command, that I always envied. He looked handsome in his black suit.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Trent said, “Enzo Rocco, brother of the celebrant, and a CEO himself.”

The reception was the total opposite of what was given to Nadine. The crowd exploded in cheers. Many of them had either seen him or heard of him before. Mother walked towards him with her arm outstretched. They hugged and the crowd applauded them. Then he came to meet me and did the same thing.

“Happy birthday, little brother,” he said. I hated it whenever he called me “little,” but I said nothing to that effect.

“Thanks, man,” I said. “How was your trip?”

“Ohh, great,” he said. “I mean, it was really comfortable.”

“Okay. It’s good to have you,” I said. “Get comfortable. Have a drink, join the party.”

NADINE.

I stood in a corner with a champagne flute in my hands, seething with rage. Naomi was lying cold in a coffin, six feet under the ground, and her killer was tossing his head backwards taking shots after shots of tequila, carousing, acting the part of the master of ceremony at this party. I felt my insides boil. I sipped my drink slowly, thinking about my next line of action, but nothing seemed to come to mind. When Clayton’s brother walked in, I was taken aback by how different from Clayton he seemed. He seemed cool, reticent, but I couldn’t be fooled by appearances. I looked away from the party for a while and gazed at the star speckled skies over our heads. When I lowered my head, Mrs. Rocco was standing near me.

“Ohh, hi, Nadine,” she said with her characteristic smile.

“Hi,” I said tepidly.

“How are you enjoying the party?” She said, “Great, right?”

“Yeah,” I said, nodding. “I think it’s nice.”

“You know, Natasha did a lot of work putting it together,” she said. “Of course I helped, but it was mostly her effort and we have to be thankful to her for that, especially you, considering that you were rarely ever around while we did the planning.”

“Yes, I’ll send my love and thanks to Natasha,” I said sarcastically, not wanting to remind her that they didn’t ever involve me while they planned the party.

“And I’m sure you feel good standing among such people of status, don’t you?” She said with a wink.

“Status?” I said. “No, I actually don’t.”

“You don’t?” She said, “Ohh, that’s too bad. I wouldn’t recommend mixing with these people, Nadine. They are several rungs above you on the social ladder; you’re not even half as sophisticated. Better keep to yourself, okay?”

I felt something rise inside of me.

“Fuck you,” I said, letting the champagne flute drop to the ground and shatter making everyone look at us.

“What?” She said, astonished.

“You heard me, old bitch,” I said loudly to the collective gasps of the crowd. “I said fuck you.”

I turned and walked away.