Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 23621 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 118(@200wpm)___ 94(@250wpm)___ 79(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 23621 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 118(@200wpm)___ 94(@250wpm)___ 79(@300wpm)
"Garion?"
Wendy's eyes were already closed, and her voice barely audible. He wished he could convince himself that a miracle was still possible, but he knew...just by looking at his wife, he knew that her time was near.
And so if this was truly what she wanted, and this was what would give her peace—-
Tears ran down her cheeks when she felt her husband's lips on her forehead.
"Thank you," she whispered.
"I love you," he whispered.
But his wife no longer answered, and Garion could barely breathe as grief threatened to bury him alive.
Just like that...
Just like that...she was gone.
Chapter One
Olsen liked to look out of the glass walls of his office every now and then. He derived joy from being able to observe his staff work, and in days such as this, he also had fun watching his staff embarrass themselves the moment Garion Ross walk inside their firm.
They sure never learn, Olsen thought with a wry shake of his head. A female intern had just walked straight into a wall because she had been too busy staring at the billionaire while one of his lady lawyers had ended up spewing coffee at her client's face upon Garion unexpectedly crossing her line of sight.
The 35-year-old billionaire had been their client for years, but the man still had everyone starstruck every time he dropped by, and not even his own senior and managing partners were an exception to the rule. Garion might be no celebrity, but the younger man did have the looks of a movie star, and when combined with the power and authority Garion had been trained to wield since he was a boy—-
The billionaire was what Olsen's wife Julie liked to call a "total package", never mind if said package was often ruthless and dangerous to cross.
Garion knocked on his door, and the older man got to his feet.
"Good to see you again, my boy." He clapped a hand over the younger man's back in warm greeting. Having been the family lawyer for decades, he had known Garion since the latter was a child, and Olsen thought of him as if he were his own son as well.
"Sorry for dropping by without notice."
Olsen dismissed the apology with a wave. "You know you're always welcome here." He indicated his seating area. "Shall we?"
The older man took one of the leather armchairs, but the billionaire remained on his feet, jaw clenched, and his expression brooding.
"What's wrong?" Olsen asked bluntly.
The faint grimace that marred Garion's handsome features spoke volumes, and Olsen's interest was piqued.
Garion, with his stylishly expensive suits and sophisticated manners, likely fooled most people into thinking he was no different from his peers, whose lifestyles were lavish and indolent. Only those closest to him knew such assumptions were so far from the truth it was laughable.
The billionaire's greatest pleasure came from doing physical work around his ranch, waking up at the crack of dawn to monitor cattle movements and doing emergency repairs on fences during hurricanes.
It was just how the boy had always been, Olsen mused, and more often than not, it was also this that gave Garion the edge over his competitors. Garion knew what hardship meant, and it was why he was never scared silly to lose money the way other rich men were. While others' greed turned them into cowards and idiots, Garion took near-impossible risks with his investments, and he did so because he knew he could rebuild his empire from scratch if necessary.
If being the operative word, but that was never the case, much to the disgruntlement of Garion's business rivals. Fame and fortune might be constant worries of the average (or even above-average) man, but in Olsen's experience, there was only one thing and one thing alone that could have Garion looking discomfited as he did now.
"Is it Theo?"
A ghost of a smile formed over the billionaire's lips. "You know me too well, Uncle Olsen."
The lawyer asked Garion to sit down for a second time, and the latter acquiesced, albeit with his powerful form still rigid with tension.
"What is it this time?"
"He's acting...as if he needs a mother."
Olsen mentally calculated the boy's age. "Theo should be about seven now, isn't he?"
Garion's nod was clipped, but there was something in the man's hazel eyes...
"Is there something else you'd like to say?" Olsen asked patiently.
"I need a favor."
"Of course." Olsen assumed Garion would ask his firm's help for screening applicants for a nanny to provide Theo with motherly care and affection, but what the billionaire asked for instead nearly had him choking.
"That is a very unconventional thing to ask for."
"But not impossible."
"I...suppose not."
"And not illegal."
Olsen's expression turned wry. "Is that why you sought for my assistance, instead of someone whose, er, skills were more suitable for your requirements?"
"I don't want to take any risks where Theo's concerned," the billionaire said flatly. "Money won't be an issue, but if things do go sideways - I want to make sure that my son's custody remains with me."