I Am A Multibillionaire Dad

4

Jace walks off, anger on his face.

“How do you know him?” Weston's father asks him as soon as Jace leaves.

“He used to feel attracted to my girlfriend ,” Weston says, trying as much as possible to keep his voice firm.

“Be careful around him,” his father says in a very quiet tone.

Weston is going to ask his father why he said that but he goes weak in the knee just looking his father in the face.

“Okay, sir,” he says instead of the questions he wants to ask.

His father stretches a card to him. “I suppose the money in it is more than a thousand billion. Been saving it there for a day like this.”

Weston wipes his hand on his pants before collecting the card from his father.

“The training is not going to continue; you have wasted ten years already.”

Just hearing the word ‘training’ makes Weston's heart miss the normal rhythm of pumping blood.

“Your godfather will reach out to you as soon as you get to New York. He'll tell you what to do.”

Weston nods.

“Do you have any questions?” His father asks.

He wants to ask him if he can help him keep an eye on his daughter but just looking at his father's face makes all the questions in his head disappear.

“If you don't have any questions, the car over there is waiting for you. It will get you to the airport.” Lowering his voice, his father adds, “do not call me for any reason.”

Weston nods again. “I won't, sir.”

“If you fuck up this time around, don't ever dream of coming back.”

Weston nods. “O…okay, sir.”

His father walks off. The numerous scary bodyguards that are with him leaves too.

A man in black suit comes over to Weston and bows.

“I'm the driver, sir,” the man says.

Weston glances at the man.

“The car is over there.” The man bows again before carrying Weston's traveling bag carefully to the car.

The driver opens the expensive red tinted car to Weston.

Weston gets in. He stares out through the window as the car drives to the airport.

He feels his thigh for a scar there. He closes his eyes. He can do this. For his daughter, he can do this. Even if it means having scars worse than this, he can do it. He must do it.

Some minutes later, the car stops at the airport. Weston opens the door. Somehow, he can't help but wonder if his father had known something like this would happen or if his influence is really that great that he managed to secure a ticket for him within a few minutes.

The driver tries to help him with his traveling bag but Weston collects it.

“I'll carry it myself,” Weston says.

The driver bows again. “I'll be staying around just in case you need anything, sir.”

Weston nods. He walks over to join the rest of the people waiting on the line.

“I'm sorry. It's my fault,” a scared voice pleads, attracting people's attention.

“You'll be more than sorry when I'm done with you,” a woman says. She slaps the pleading girl.

“I'm sorry, ma'am. I would have ironed it if I didn't forget, I—” another slap stops the girl from talking.

Weston shakes his head and looks away from them. But, wait a minute…that woman? Weston walks out of the line and walks closer to where the woman is. She's the one. She's Ivy’s fucking friend!

“I am going to send you back to the orphanage. I should have known nothing good would ever come out of you. Now because of your stupid brain, I'll have to meet my fiancee in these rough clothes!” The woman says, the veins on her neck very visible.

“I'm really sorry, ma'am,” the girl says.

Just as the woman is about to slap the girl again, Weston grabs the woman's hand.