Page 10 of Billionaire’s Promise

My flight landed about two hours ago and the first thing I wanted was to get some sleep. Flying made me nervous, and I could never get a proper rest. Despite what the science told me, I still prayed that the plane wouldn’t come crashing down every time I took one.

Even though my family owned a private plane, and a prestige membership with a private plane company, I still choose to fly commercial. There were many reasons – if the captain was responsible for many lives on board, then there was less reason for the pilot to fail. Right? And there would be more than one good looking flight attendant to serve me. This trip alone, three gorgeous members of the flight crew had approached me, giving me some hints about getting to know me. Interacting with beautiful ladies definitely helped ease my anxiety.

Having said that, my biggest nightmare about flying commercial was the possibility of snakes on the plane. God, that movie was so stupid…but great. Not likely to happen in real life, I know. Still, if anyone could explain and reason away irrational fear, all the psychologists would be out of jobs.

I’d missed America. New York in particular. Even though the air constantly smelled like garbage or farts.

But the freedom I got here was priceless. I could walk the streets without anyone recognizing me. There was no need to report back to mommy dearest about my whereabouts. I didn’t need approval for everything I did. No media or IG account would criticize what I wore, or what I did, or even what I ate.

I could do anything I wanted. Or go anywhere. Well, with the protection of my bodyguards that is.

So, if freedom smells like farts, then so be it.

I would never dream of going anywhere without my CD – Clare and Dave. They were both hand-selected from the best candidates, all to make sure that I could live a life as safe and free as anyone else.

Dave – or Da Wei – graduated top of his class in military school. If it wasn’t for his wife’s death, he wouldn’t have left the marines. Now in his early fifties, he was still as tough as he looked. Two years ago, when Dave turned fifty, my mother had wanted to replace him with someone younger and fitter, but I refused.

I decided that, instead of fighting my mother, I’d compromise. That was when Clare joined me, as my second bodyguard. My mother disapproved of my choice – a young and gorgeous blonde; she nearly had her sign some kind of contract to say she would not date me. Not that I would date my staff. To me that was just unprofessional. But Clare really wasn’t my type either – too bossy for my liking.

I know my mother had a lot of say in my life, especially whenever I was back in Shanghai. But I let her walk all over me because I loved her. The poor woman had lost her husband to another woman, a secretary I might add. And I had promised that I would always be on her side no matter what happened.

Rushing straight to my penthouse in Central Park Tower, my mood was getting crankier the longer I was away from my bed. I stood outside the door impatiently, waiting for Dave and Clare to clear the building.

“Sir, we have a problem,” Clare reported as soon as she reappeared.

I couldn’t believe my luck. But judging from her facial expression, there was no danger.

“What now?” The last thing I wanted to hear about was some kind of rat problem or something. Well, it’s New York, so totally possible.

“Someone is here.” Her left hand on her earpiece, receiving further information from Dave. “Your cousin–” She didn’t sound convinced at all. Clare had to memorize all the information about my family, close relatives and friends. But her memory just wasn’t as good as Dave’s. Dave on the other hand, had met everyone. After all, he had been with me from the beginning, the first day I was assigned security.

“Jenny.” Clare spat out the word without any emotion.

“Jenny?” Did I hear her right?

“Yes, Cousin Jenny.”

It made no sense. What was Cousin Jenny doing in New York? She had two school age children in Shanghai and the kids needed their mother. The thing is, Dave had basically watched both Jenny and me growing up together so there was no way he would make a mistake identifying her.

Dashing straight past Clare, I wanted to find out what on earth was going on in my house.

“Where is she?” I yelled.

“Rose Gold guest room.”

I sprinted up the stairs, since taking the elevator would take too long.

“Jenny,” I screamed, as I approached the bedroom.

There she was. On the floor in front of the coffee table, sitting in a pile of trash.

“Qing-qing!”

Now I knew why it took a while for Dave to identify her.

Her face was covered in old makeup – maybe last week’s, or even last month’s. Streaks of dried, blurred eye shadow or eyeliner or whatever paint that she used covered her face. Matted hair was covering her previously beautiful dark purple straight hair.

“You look like hell,” I said, disgusted with the state of the room. I wasn’t joking when I said she was in a pile of trash. The small living room section of the room was covered with paper, tissues, some unidentifiable items and food wrappers. Lots of them – but potato chips mainly. Jenny never touched that kind of food. They had too many carbs or calories, she used to say.