The Billionaire's Secret Love Child(228)

“I talked to Bruce about the whole thing. He said that Aiden was in a slump. Then I told Bruce what you had said to Aiden and Bruce took it upon himself to talk to the rest of the group. They all wanted him to be happy.”

I wiped a tear off my cheek.

“You’re a good friend, Liddy.”

“Hey, you set me up with the greatest bassist in history. A girl’s gotta watch out for her own.”

I laughed, as did Liddy. I was lucky to have such a great friend.

*****

THE END





BWWM The Russian’s Secret Love Child – a BWWM Romance


Flashback

“Papa, no more… please!” Anton pleaded as his father swung his leather belt against his soft young face.

“What did I tell you? Ha?” His father yelled, continuing whipping his delicate and frail body.

“I’m sorry. I’m not gonna do it again. Please, stop…..”

“No. You have to learn. And I’m gonna teach you how to discipline yourself….”

Neighbors were filled with terror as they heard him screaming for help. He was the only child, and since his mother died to Malaria, his father had never treated him as his own child. Alcohol became his best buddy.

Anton had not eaten yet since morning. How could he if no one brought him food to quench his hunger with? His father’s beating seemed to be his only meal of the day.

“Stop. Stop. Please, papa… Stop.” Those were the only words he could utter as the belt penetrated into his flesh, ripping the layers of his skin, exposing every tissue of his muscles.

“Your mother, whom you killed, didn’t tell you to steal! How could you disrespect her?” He asked in a very strong tone, deafening Anton’s fragile ears.

Since Anton’s mother passed away, his father had been hostile to him. Unable to blame anyone, he focused his anger on his son, who knew nothing but to obey every word he spoke in great fear.

But desperation pushed him to disregard his father’s command and follow the craving of his hunger. This morning, when no one was looking, he stole a piece of bread from a small bakery. He was caught. A child like him was inexperienced when it came to crime. It was survival instinct that taught him how to misbehave.

“I’m sorry….” He cried out, eating his own mucus while drinking his own tears.

Finally, his father got tired of beating him up and decided to call it for the day. Tomorrow was another day. It seemed he was his father’s punching bag, an object he used to dissipate his fury and disappointment in life.

The floor was his mattress as he laid resting, feeling the pain of his father’s abomination. Is it my fault that mama died? He thought as tears streamed out of his eyes. He did not seem to feel the cold of the bare floor where dust fell and covered the slippery surface.

“Why? Why Am I so unlucky? It’s not my fault to be born poor.” He cried out.



Those same words he spoke as a child kept on repeating whenever he was alone. The memory of the past kept haunting him down. Deep. Painful. Miserable. Those words described his childhood.

“Enough! Enough…….” He screamed as his hands clenched his hair, trying to get rid of a headache created by the trauma of his father’s beating.

Down to the floor, he laid almost in the same position as he was the night after he stole the piece of bread.

Head against the carpeted floor, his gaze was fixed on the huge mirror sitting on the floor, giving him the reflection of his soul.

“Who are you?” He asked himself, still staring in the mirror.

“I’m Anton Belinsky. A famous billionaire. A leader of the notorious and most feared mafia in the world. That child was dead, long time ago. I’m alive. Free. Successful. No one could beat me down anymore. No one. No one.”

However hard he tried to forget his past, it would always grab hold of his foot, pulling him down. Unless he learned to forgive. Only then he would find an inner remission that would set him free eternally from the bondage of his oppressed childhood.





Chapter One



Ripping the envelope, the sound of tearing paper increased her blood pressure. As she pulled the letter from its shelter, her hands quaked in great fear. She knew what it was. Something she foresaw coming. Something she’d been praying not to happen.

“Oh, please….” She cried out as she saw the Eviction Letter with her mother’s name on it.

“Mama…..” She called out. Her voice’s wavelength echoed all over the street.

Drinking coffee while watching her favorite program on T.V, she was perplexed to hear her daughter’s ear-splitting scream. What happened? She thought, alarmed that something was not right in the kitchen.

“What? Did you burn the patties I told you to cook for breakfast?” She asked, eyes wide open.

“No!” She replied, annoyed that she was oblivious to what was happening. “Did you know about this?”

Her mother knew exactly what she was talking about – it was fairly obvious. “Tasia. Look…..” She tried to explain, but Tasia cut in, exasperated that anytime soon, she might find her mother residing with other inmates.

“No. You know all about this, don’t you? Don’t lie to me.” Tears began to escape her eyes.