The Billionaire’s Pawn

STRIKER

“Go ahead. See your father.” It still rang in my ear. Beatreigh, my aunt. It was even strange to meet her face to face. I wondered if her son, Lake knew about my existence.

“Striker, wait,” she called me again.

“Yeah.”

She held me and put something into my palm. “Keep it.”

When I checked it, it was a man’s ring. “Is this his?”

“Yes.”

“I can’t.” I offered it back. “Keep this with you. You can give this to him when he wakes up. I won’t stay long anyway. I leave as soon as I do what I promised to Dad.”

“It’s not just a ring. It’s Braddson’s ring. Whether you like it or not, you’re the Braddson heir.”

“Well, let me spell it out, Beatreigh. He’s still alive, and I’m just a mistake. I’m not seeing him again after this. So, please, take it.”

Beatreigh just gave me a smile with a light nod. “He never took that off, but it had to when he went for MRI. And hate him all you can, but fifty percent of Braddson’s blood is in your veins. He is your father, and I am your aunt. Where do you think you get your stubbornness and tenacity from?”

I looked down at the ring in my hand. It looked like platinum with the letter B-a signet ring. I slipped it into my pocket and took a deep breath before I entered the room-like a hotel suite. The only difference was there were machines, tubes, monitors, and those eerie beeping sounds. There were many flowers sent by people I didn’t even know and didn’t give a shit.

I breathed deeply again as I stood before his bed. The father I hated and avoided for many years was lying motionless before me, but right now, I couldn’t even make myself hate him. I couldn’t even yell at him. How many years had I prepared for this day and still failed to do so?

I looked away when those emotions were too much to bear in my chest. I glanced at Moses again, and somehow, our resemblance began to appear. It was uncanny, and I might look like him when I grew old. But I thought of how Dad would be proud of me for this moment.

I chuckled bitterly as I took a step to his side. He had bruises on his face and arms and a sling around his right arm. He hadn’t moved a muscle other than his regular breathing.

“Well, here I am. I never thought this day would come, but I admired Dad for his persistence. Get better, Moses.” That was all I could say. What else should I be saying? He couldn’t hear me anyway, so it was pointless. And maybe I just wanted it out of my chest.

As soon as I went out of the room, London squeezed me into a hug with her broad smile. “I’m proud of you.”Text © 2024 NôvelDrama.Org.

“I can’t disappoint my girl.”

We left the hospital later on.

London went to work late. I, on the other hand, met my dad in his office.

“How’s your father?” He met me with a smile that said he was proud of me.

“Moses is fine, healing.” I took a seat across his desk. “How’s the new product doing?”

“I’m not talking about it. Tell me what the doctors said?”

“I didn’t talk to the doctor, Dad.”

Dad shook his head and never hid his disappointment-he wasn’t impressed with my reply.

“What do you want me to say?” I shrugged.

“You always shrugged when you didn’t wanna talk about something, Striker.”

“Wrenley was there. I’m sure you are more updated about Moses’ conditions than me.”

He got up from his chair and came to face me. “I wanna know what happened. How did you feel?”

“It was okay.” I couldn’t look him in the eye anymore. “If I didn’t know you love me, I thought you were pushing me away and wanted me to have a grand reunion with my sperm donor.” I looked at him. “Well, news flash, Dad. That ain’t going to happen. You can’t push me out of your life.”

Dad smiled sadly. “You have such a good heart, Striker. I’m not pushing you away. I’m just proud of you. I was so scared when I found out that your father was still alive. I was so scared to lose you that if I told you, you would choose him because he could certainly give you everything this world could offer. And I prepared myself and accepted that I had to share you with him one day.”

“You are the only dad I want, Dad. There’s nothing more I want than to be your son. Look at me. I knew that he existed years ago, yet I am still here. I met him today, and nothing’s changed. And you always told me that we’re a team. Even if I get married, we’re still a team, and London will be there to cheer us.”

“So tell me, how did you feel when you finally met him?”

“He was sedated,” I said calmly.

“You didn’t wait until he woke up?”

“Dad, he needs to rest.”

“You’re making me ask you questions, aren’t you?” He smiled.

I sighed. “I felt relief, okay? Happy now?”

“I am.” He nodded, still wearing that proud smile I’d seen many times.

“I felt like tons of weight lifted off my chest. When I looked down at him, damn it, I couldn’t hate him. Maybe people do change. He was a major asshole back then, or maybe he still is. My point is past is past. My life can’t revolve around my hate for him. I’m in a good place right now, thanks to you. I’m getting married, for God’s sake. I have to let those anger and hatred go. I have to welcome my new life with a good mindset and positivity, or I will be stuck in the past for the rest of my life. What else do I want, Dad? I have you. I have London, and I have good friends. I have so many blessings to consider than just hating a man from my past.”

“He’s still in your present, son.”

“I know,” I accepted the painful truth.

“You have to visit him again.”

I shot him a glare. “You’ve got to be kidding me. I agreed-”

“He’s going to be out of the hospital tonight. The MRI result came out. So, he’ll be recovering in his estate with his doctors around, of course.”

“I can’t believe you’re doing this to me. On purpose.”

“I love you, too. Now get out. I have work to do.”

***

I’d been staring at the ceiling for minutes while London hadn’t said a word. I didn’t know if she was waiting for me to say something or if she was reading my thoughts. I mean, I had a beautiful, hot woman next to me that needed my attention, but something kept my mind reeling.

“How many coatings do you think they made to achieve that bright color?”

“Huh?” I glanced over at her, confused.

“Well, you’ve been staring at the ceiling for almost half an hour. I thought you studied colors, or maybe you appreciated the shadow from the chandelier.” Her sarcasm was evident, and there was a line between her brows.

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, me too. But you know what? I’m so sick of your excuses.”

“Excuses?” My mind was still processing at this moment. One moment she was talking to me, and the next thing I knew, she was gripping my face, giving me an open mouth kiss.

I was too surprised to respond, and she took advantage of my gasp into her way to shove her tongue into my mouth in a wet open, mouth kiss. It was hot, and I was instantly hard.

I finally got my bearings. I wrapped my hand around her ass, the other on her ample breast, and kissed her with the same intensity. I was still enjoying and exploring when her hand found my cock in my boxers. I groaned at the first touch of her soft hand around my girth. She unapologetically wrapped my cock around her fingers and began stroking it.

One moment she stroked me, and the next thing came unexpectedly-she pushed my boxers down my thighs. Her mouth was gone. The kiss was over.

My eyes flew open wide. My brain was still processing what had happened, but London destroyed my fantasy on so many levels, making it a reality.

She spread my legs apart and went between my knees with her hand around my cock. The anticipation and excitement of feeling the tip of her tongue touching my shaft had me gasping for air, my muscles clenching, my heart jackhammering in my chest, and my eyes widened further. When she darted her tongue, I knew it was a home run.

“Vanderford?” I licked my dry lips. And she just read my mind. My head fell back. “Fuck, baby.” My cock jerked against the first touch of her wet tongue. It felt so fucking good.

She clearly knew what to do and how to let a man fall on her knees, even if our current situation was reversed. But fuck me. She had me at first lick.

Without a little mercy, she took all my length into her mouth with a good suck. I thought I saw the light of heaven.

Fuck, yeah.

She was good at it. I ignored a little pang in my chest and pushed aside the thought of how she learned to blow a man into blissfulness.

“Fuck, baby. Just like that.” She took me into her mouth, in and out with sucks, swirling her tongue around it. She knew when to tease and stop-it was torture and pleasure at the same time-it felt so damn good.

When she began massaging my balls, her other hand around my length, I was delirious in ecstasy. My hand came to her hair, keeping a tight grip, twisting into my fist as I followed her with thrust, keeping control not to gag her.

I looked down at her, taking all of me to her throat, her mouth stretched out, but she never backed down.

Fuck. She looked so hot and sexy as hell, the hottest fucking thing I’d ever seen. It fucking drove me mad inside, and my heart melted with pride at the same time.

My arousal was heightening. I felt it at the base of my spine. My balls became heavy.

I pulled her head away, withdrawing my cock out. “Baby, I wanna suck your pussy, too.”

She looked at me with lust brewing in her eyes. “No. Tonight is all about you.”

“Are you trying to kill me right now?” My groan came out loud like a growl as she sucked me in back, deliberately, slowly, and painfully bringing a new height of my impending orgasm. My grip and thrust turned hard and desperate.

One satisfying groan came from her with a hard suck, and my climax came unexpectedly and had stars dancing before my vision.

“London. Baby. Fuck.” The pleasure coursing through me exploded a gush of my release in her mouth. The ecstasy was never ending as I jerked and jerked until empty.