BETROTHED TO THE BILLIONAIRE

Valerie’s POV

Ryan’s ex-girlfriend is the third girl I saw alongside Fred and Brenda the other day I had a nightmare.

I had the same nightmare today and I was able to recognize her better than that day when I found her familiar.

That isn’t what is baffling me but the fact that she is there with Fred and Brenda and why I keep dreaming about them.

Who is she to Fred? Does she know Brenda too?

Summoning up enough courage to get up from the bed, I do so, reminding myself of what happened last night at the restaurant.

Everything almost ended badly because Fred and that woman showed up, getting Ryan all reeled up. I still don’t know what to make of his anger towards Fred and why that woman was with him.

I don’t understand what is going on really and why Ryan is not making an effort to clear the confusion.

Does he expect me to force him to answer me? Why did he ignore my question when I asked him who she was last night? Is he ashamed to call her his ex-girlfriend? What exactly transpired between them and why do I find her name familiar too?

If I find her face familiar, then that should be from the dream but did I also hear her name from the dream I had when I saw her with Fred and Brenda?

I don’t know if it’s the little drink Ryan and I shared last night that is making my head bang this way or if it is because of how the numerous questions are spinning in my head.

I can’t even find any answers to any of the questions and it is irking me.

Shoving every thought about Fred, Brenda, and Celina out of my mind, I step my foot down and drag myself to the bathroom to take a bath.

Ryan’s mother and I have plans to meet up today. I don’t know why she insists on me visiting without Ryan. If only she wanted me to come with Ryan, I would have made it tonight when he is back from work and then I can visit my dad back in the house this morning.

I haven’t heard from him since the last time I visited and I am getting worried again.

As fast as I can, I wash my hair and take a bath. When I am done, I come out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around my bosom.

My headache is gone and I feel refreshed after bathing. I sit on a stool across my dresser and begin to rub my body butter on my body with another towel tightly wrapped around my head to drain the water in my hair.

When I am done rubbing the butter all over my body, I open one of the drawers to bring out a hair dryer and I use it on my hair till I am satisfied with the dryness.

Standing up straight, I proceed to the closet to find a dress to wear. After pondering for a while on what to wear, I settle for a black leather skirt and a white top with leather boots and a little purse.

Within minutes, I am dressed and good to go. Realizing that John must have driven Ryan to work, I decide to give Ryan a call.

I find my phone on the left side drawer of the bed and I quickly pick it up to dial Ryan’s number.

With impatience, I wait till he picks up.

“Hello”, his voice sounds a bit different today, a little husky like he is trying to get over a banging headache or his hangover.

We didn’t drink into a stupor last night, did we?

“Hi”, I ignore his voice. “I’m going to your mom’s place. Can I use one of the cars in the garage?” I ask as politely as I can, hoping he will give a positive answer.

I am a billionaire’s wife, after all, I shouldn’t be jumping from one cab to the other when there are dozens of cars in the garage and I can drive.

Jumping out of his car the night I was attacked had taught me a lesson. If only I had a car of my own, that wouldn’t have happened.

“Can you drive?” He demands after a moment of silence.

I almost scoff at the question. “I won’t be asking for a cab if I don’t know how to drive, Ryan. Stop underestimating me, man.”

He chuckles softly. “Don’t you have a headache? I am battling with one right now. It’s horrible.”

My assumptions are right. I can’t recall everything that happened after he fell on me but I know we decided to drink some wine while listening to the song instead of dancing because his dancing was horrible.

Maybe I slept off and he continued to drink till he was tipsy.

“I don’t have one”, I say indifferently, hiding the fact that I felt a slight headache a while ago before taking a hot bath.

“Drive safely then”, he groans a little from the other side.

“Take some coffee”, I suggest, wondering if he can work.

“I already took two cups. Don’t worry, I will be fine”, he laughs again, making me arch a brow.

“I’m not worried about you, I’m just being a good wife to you”, I roll my eyes, wishing he can see me right now.

“Whatever!” He mutters in dismissal but I stop him right away.

“Wait. Where are the car keys?” I demand softly.

“There is one beside the drawers and another on the dresser. Use whichever you want.”

“Bye.” I cut the call and squat down to find the one in the drawers. When I pull out the first section of the drawer, I spot one and I scoop it up immediately, feeling giddy over driving again after so many months of losing my car.

Grabbing my little purse from the bed, I walk out, my hair packed in a bun and my phone in the other hand.

Maybe I will visit my dad after leaving his mom’s place. Ryan isn’t saying anything about the issue either and I don’t want to bother him about it again.

His father is the one to talk to. I won’t talk to him yet. I need to see my dad first and after then, if Ryan isn’t making an effort to help talk to his dad, I will do that.

When I get out of the house, I press the button on the car key so I can easily identify which car I am taking out.

A sound comes from the Toyota Highlander in the courtyard and I squeal excitedly.

Ignoring the look I am getting from the two bodyguards in front of me, I hurry over to the car, get in and roar the car engine into action.

Without hesitation, I begin to reverse back toward the gate. It opens and I drive out.

Surprisingly, I am still as good as I can remember. With my hand expertly on the wheels, I steer out of the neighborhood, feeling the sudden urge to hear some music.

If Ryan has any of Christian Moore’s songs in here, then I will hug him for being a good man. Having Moore’s song makes him a good man.

Taking one of my hands off the wheel, I try to click on the dashboard and find some good music to dance to.

Within a split second, I take my eyes off the road and try to see if he has any music I would love aside from that of Christian’s because I know he wouldn’t have Christian’s song in here.

Having it on his phone was done purposely. He must have gotten it because he knew I loved Christian and I am a fangirl.

I am fangirling for him to become more popular than he is right now. Not only known in New York City but in every part of the world. Seeing him play me a song has shown me how down to heart he is and I love him more.

All of a sudden, the car bumps into a small car in front of me and I jerk upright, my heart racing in fear.

Why is the damn car on the road? Is parking allowed here?

I halt the car immediately and step down to shout at the top of my voice at the owner of the car for violating the rules and wanting to put my life in jeopardy.

I know it’s been a while since I last drove a car but I know I am still good.

Ignoring my faults for taking my eyes off the road, I shout. “Who the hell is in there?!”

I fold my arms around my bosom, waiting for the guy to come out of the car with anger coursing through me.

The car door opens and a guy comes out with sunglasses. He is wearing clean blue jeans and trousers and a white t-shirt.

I am about to open my mouth to shout at him again, claiming to be a victim when he takes off his sunglasses and I see him.

Again.

“Fred?”

“Valerie”, he smirks with pride like someone who had it all planned.