Chapter Two

Rafael

The sound of my office phone ringing has me sitting upright. It's been a long day. I want nothing but to go home right now. I, however, don't make a habit of ignoring calls, no matter how tired I am, so I answer. "Yes?"

"Mr. DeMontez, I have your father on the line," my secretary, Sarah, says.

I feel a bad taste in the back of my throat in anticipation. Calls with my father never go well. He's a controlling narcissist who's done everything to make me feel less of a man because he thinks he can never be wrong.

He was my mentor—the man upon whose name I built my legacy as the CEO of my tech company. The problem with my father being my former mentor is that the man always thinks he knows best. And while that may have been true ten years ago, times have changed since he last stepped foot in a boardroom, a fact that he has refused to accept.

So, every now and then, he tries to tell me how to run my own company, and when things don't go as he wants, he goes ballistic.

"Put him through."

"Yes, sir."

I hold the phone in my hand, waiting for his voice to come through; I don't have to wait long. "You really should learn to pick up calls on your personal line; imagine having to pass through a secretary to reach you whenever I need to. This is unacceptable, Rafael. I will not be happy if it is repeated."

Every time he calls, he says this. And every time, I ignore him because he knows I don't use my personal phone during work hours. It's a principle I built that's helped me thrive not just as a CEO but as a billionaire, too. I have money I may never spend ‘til I die, and it's because I've dedicated so much of myself to my work.

Sometimes, I wish things could be different, that I could be different, but so far, I've had no one to inspire that change. "Hello to you too, Father. To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"Oh, drop the act, and tell me why you just turned down a multi-billion dollar deal that could have put our company name in the history of technology forever?"

I sigh. I can't say I didn't see this coming, just not this early. I just had Sarah send the rejection email an hour ago, and the news had already reached him.

Now, I'm beyond convinced I made the right call. I knew something was off about the deal from the moment it landed on my desk. All I had to do was have my lawyer look over the terms and have my private investigator look into them for me to realize that the company's CEO was a criminal with corporate holdings.

"I did what was best for the company, Father. Just like I've been doing all these years, you have to trust me."

"Nonsense, you call back those people now and tell them you made a mistake rejecting them. I want the news of the merger to reach me by tomorrow morning!"

"I'm afraid that can't happen."

"You would defy me?" he barks, outrage evident in his voice.

Defy him?

This is a company, not a family affair. I never should have let him sink his claws this deep into my business. It's too late to cut him off now. The best I can do is set boundaries.

"No, Father, I will do what's best for the company. If you're so concerned about how the family name is affected by this, then do me a favor and have someone look into these people. If you find nothing, I'll personally send an email to them and apologize to you, too."

He doesn't say anything for a full minute. I wait, knowing he's processing what I just said. "What did you find out?"

"That they're thieves with big promises but no good record. Five of the ten companies partnered with them in the last decade are sinking, two are down, and three are declaring bankruptcy. I'm not going to say more than that. Have a good night's rest, Father."

Slamming the phone down, I get out of my seat and pack my things to head out for the day.

He just doesn't get it.

Through the drive home, I try not to focus on how bleak my life has become. Once, I had a dream to build my own company before I was thirty, settle down by thirty-two, and have three kids. At the age of forty-four, I don't even have a girlfriend.

My thoughts of loneliness disperse the moment I pull into my house's garage and step out of my car. I didn't have to pick Sadie up today; her mother is around. Lord knows she needs to be more available for that girl, but I'm not going to have that conversation with her. She's just going to pick offense.

I open the door to the living room, expecting to find Ivy, but she's nowhere in sight.

"Hello, Daddy's home." I joke. But I hear no laugh from Ivy.

Flirting with her has become my favorite pastime. She's beautiful and sexy as hell. The moment I saw her, I knew I had to hire her. Not to clean my house but to mess up my dreams.

With beautiful black hair that cascades over her shoulders, she looks irresistible. She has brown eyes that make me wonder what color they turn in the throes of pleasure. She's petite with legs that I want to badly wrap around my waist as I bury myself deep inside her. But unfortunately, she's off limits, and I don't plan to change that. Not really.

"Ivy?" I call as I walk around the house to find her. I find her in my room, about to leave with laundry in her arms. "Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes?" I muse, picking at a stray hair and tucking it behind her ear. I like touching her.

"Hello, sir."

I scrunch my nose. She knows I don't like it when she calls me sir, but she does it anyway. It makes me respect her. If she were any other girl, she would have made a move on me by now. Most of my previous housekeepers didn't last a week.

"Sir? Is that what you and your friends are going to call me when you finally have the money to pay me to dance for you girls?" I expect her to laugh. Maybe even tell me I need to get off my high horse. But I get nothing from her, which is unusual.

"Are you okay?" I ask.

She shrugs and sidesteps me. "Just tired."

I watch her walk away; my high spirits lower with hers until they seem like puddles on the floor.

As I shower and change into casual clothes, I try to figure out what the problem may be with her, but I'm unable to come up with anything. When I eventually come downstairs for dinner, she's about to leave.

"Ivy, wait," I call after her. She pauses at the door, her demeanor stiff.

"Not tonight, too, Mr. DeMontez."

I nod. I think I've finally accepted that she will never agree to have dinner with me. I just bug her for the fun of it.

"I know. I just wanted you to have this." I dig into my wallet and fetch her a few hundred dollar notes.

She gapes at me. "Why?"

"Just to encourage you that you're doing a good job. Take it."

She smiles and takes the money from me. "Thank you," she whispers.

I force a smile as she walks away. The food tastes sour in my mouth as I eat, but I force it down anyway, not one to mess with my health. When I'm done, I find my way into the house cellar, unsure if I want to drink. But I eventually pick out a bottle of my favorite whiskey. I don't make drinking a habit, but once in a while, I indulge myself.

Walking back into the living room, I fetch a glass and take a good swallow of the drink before I bring my phone out and scour the internet for something to pass the time with. For most men, now would be the time to call a woman and invite her over for the night. But I've got none. The one woman I want, I can't have.

Maybe that should change.

Changing the course of my action, I started to search for dating websites online. Soon, I find one, though it isn't entirely a dating platform. It's more like a hook-up website. The name says Sugar Baby Finds Daddy.

I take another sip of my drink for liquor confidence before scrolling through the list of beautiful women. None of them catch my eye. I'm about to give up when I see a blonde that looks like Ivy. Blinking, I click on the profile and immediately zoom the picture once the page loads.

It is Ivy.

Except it isn't.

The Ivy I know has black hair, she doesn't use makeup, and she certainly wouldn't put her virginity out on a bid website for any man to buy. I'm intrigued, regardless. So I make a bid five times the charge, so I'm not outbid by anyone else. One hundred thousand dollars.

All that's left now is to meet this girl who looks just like the woman living rent-free in my head. Let's hope she surpasses the current standard.