A Wife for the Billionaire

I didn’t even acknowledge Vera as I dashed out of there.

I was late and the last thing I needed was for Alicia or her daughters, depending on who got home first, to start sniffing around.

Charlie, I may have told to cover for me, but that had been in case Alicia called. He wouldn’t fare so well on a face to face confrontation.

Charlie wasn’t a good liar. One stutter and Alicia or her evil daughters would smell the lie.

It took me years and a whole lot of practice to be able to make my lies believable for their ears.

Charlie won’t stand a chance.

By the time I got to the elevator, it was packed and ready to descend. So was the one on the right.

Cursing inwardly, I dashed for the stairs. It was a foolish decision, but the mind can barely think right when it’s in a panic mode.

Floor after floor, I practically jumped the stairs. My mind might not be thinking straight when it was in a panic mode, but the body steers to whatever course it charts. And with a shit ton of adrenaline too.

I checked the elevator on every floor, but they were yet to arrive and even if they were, there were a lot of people waiting to get onboard.

It was hard running and jumping with my skirt, but I pushed the flexibility of the fabric, testing it to the stretchest of its ability.

I was on the 45th floor and it was yet to fail me. But I could feel the fabric waning and only a fool would test it further. I was in a rush, but I didn’t want to lose my appearance in the course of it.