A Billionaire In Disguise

"What does that mean?" Rome asked, feeling stunned by his father's words. “Stop talking, and let's go. These guys will soon wake up from the nap you put them in!” Miller mumbled. Rome didn't move an inch as he stared at his father in shock. But then Mr. Miller slowly walked behind him and aggressively shoved him out the door. “Hey! How come the older you get, the more violent you become.” Rome mumbled after he had balanced himself. “Stop talking and walk!” Mr. Miller said while forcefully pushing Rome since he stubbornly refused to take a step forward. Everyone that walked past them kept awkwardly staring as Mr. Miller continued shoving Rome from the back. “Fine! Stop hitting me! I will walk by myself. But you have to tell me about where we are going.” Rome mumbled while questionably staring at his father. “All you need to know is that where I’m taking you is the safest place for you right now. So promise me that you wouldn’t c

“My father is not a liar. So you can keep your money,” Rome replied, hiding his anger behind his calm eyes. A long sigh came from Catherine's lip as she crossed her arms, shrugged her shoulders, and looked the other way. As his hand tightened around his bag ropes, Rome subconsciously gazed around the room. Then a baby photo of Catherine caught his eyes. Then he faintly giggled and said, “cute.” His comment drew her attention to where he was looking. She looked at the photo for a brief while before staring at Rome, then Cathrine furrowed her eyebrows and rolled her eyes at him. “We may get married. However, I don’t see you as my husband. You can sleep in my room, but not on my bed. Put your belongings in the left closet since I have no use for that space. Also, if you can’t help me, then do not meddle in my business.” Catherine harshly said. However, Rome made no reply since her remark annoyed him. Instead, he walked past her, approached the le

When Rome regained consciousness, he kept his eyes closed for a minute and waited for the headache to subside before raising his eyelids. “Where am I?” Rome mumbled, staring around the room, then his sight rested on an elderly-looking man with smoky-grey hair and a white goatee. With calmness in his eyes, he smiled at Rome and said, “You are at my house. I'm Mr. Ford by the way.” “Mr… Fo-rd. I…” “It's okay, kid. You don't have to fear me.” Doubt clouded Rome’s f

Early that morning as the Barlow family sat at the dining table, having breakfast, Roland remained standing like always. He wasn't allowed to eat with them since Madame Rosey considered him to be a worthless son-in-law that didn't deserve to eat expensive meals that he had not work for. “Catherine,” Mr. Barlow said, gently laying his fork down on the plate. “Yes, grandfather,” Catherine mumbled, looking away from her food and focusing on his eyes. “Take your husband to the company and find something useful for him to do. It will diminish the Barlow family reputation if people find out that your husband is nothing but a house help.” “Yes, g

The morning breeze blew the leaves of the sidewalk as Blake walked to the bus stop.  The moment he sat down on the bench, three black Limousines drove towards the bus stop and stopped in front of him. Then Mr. Orlando got out of one of the first cars and approached him. “You are Blake, right?” He asked, sitting down on the bench. “Yes, is there a problem? Did I offend Mr. Ford?” Blake mumbled, hugging his bag tightly. “Why would you think that?” “Because there are rumors that say, ‘if Mr. Orlando visits you then you are in trouble with Mr. Ford.” “Well, that's true. But I am not here because of my master.” “Huh?”  The color drained from his face as he stared wide-eyed at Mr. Orlando and saw that he had a smirk on his lips. “My young master wants a word with you.” Mr. Orlando said, with a straight face. “Who? Mr. Ford has a son?” Blake asked, sounding more afraid than shocked. “Y