A WIFE FOR HIRE: The Trillionaire's Contract Mother

A WIFE FOR HIRE: The Trillionaire's Contract Mother

WAJE · Ongoing · 73.6k Words

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Introduction

Aaron Buckley the city's first trillionaire is met with the biggest devastation of his life losing the love of his life to mysterious death, and suffers years of loneliness, and the trauma of her death. He is compelled to hire a mother for his twin daughters Paige, and Piper. A contract bride, and a contract mother for his daughters.
No intimacy. No shared feelings. No sleeping in his bedroom. They are to act as the perfect couple in public and avoid each other in private and her job was to cater to the kids until the time elapses and she quietly leaves with the money never to be seen or heard from again.
What becomes of this strange situationship, and what happens when old debts emerge?

Chapter 1

A WIFE FOR HIRE: 

The Trillionaire's Contract Mother

(FIRED)

Chapter One

“I’m sorry Marilyn you are fired!”

“Mrs Agatha you must be mistaken. I did nothing wrong...why?” Her voice shakes, sighting the brown envelope on the chocolate colored table.

“The orphanage is closing down, and there’s nothing any of us can do so this is your letter of termination. We respect the dedication, kindness, and commitment ensued in teaching the kids, imbibing the best values, and moral principles but I can’t change things. Pack your things you have less than two hours to leave the orphanage premises.”

A tear rolled down her cheek. “And the children?” Her heart broke leaving the kids behind. There was nothing she could do. The orphanage had been hit with sponsors withdrawing due to the heavy recession. Food became scarce, quality of living reduced drastically, and salaries were left unpaid for months. 

“They’ll be moved to a bigger orphanage equipped to cater to their needs. I know how much you bonded, and loved them like your own but it’s nothing we can do. The order is already given. I wish you well Miss Marilyn.” Mrs Agatha dismisses picking up her old reading glasses, and writing something on a blank paper. 

“But I can move to the new location. Please don’t fire me. I have nowhere else to go.” Tears stinged Marilyn's tear duct. She has nowhere left to go, no house or any relatives. Her parents eloped to be together and according to the story she was told they moved to this little town and settled together for years until they had her before the loss of her father and the sad passing of her mother. She had to fend for herself at an early age when most parents catered to their young and the severed family ties she couldn’t locate her parents' relatives. 

Left in the world she worked hard, and day every day to afford herself food, shelter, and the little savings she made from her endeavors, and those little money she sent to charity every month to support other orphanages. 

“As I stated you have two hours to get yourself out of this premises. A lot of other staff are fired as we speak. There's too many people, and sadly the orphanage can’t cater to everyone anymore. I hope you understand thank you, and have a great day. I'm done discussing this matter.”

“Please ma’am where do I go, where do I run to? I understand it’s for the children’s best interest but I have given every day of my life in good health, and poor health to these kids. Is there anything that can be done or better granted enough time to help me find somewhere to stay?”

Mrs Agatha pursed her lips. “I’m sorry my hands are tied. There’s nothing that can be done. Your quarters should be evacuated immediately; failure to leave as instructed would warrant you being forced out. I hope you understand the orders are coming from the superiors in just a messenger.”

Dejected, and torn apart Marilyn picked the envelope, and made her way out of the office shutting the door behind her softly, and softly walked to the lodge she knew to be her entire home. She quickly packed her little belongings into a box. Tears steamed down her cheek on multiple occasions, and she bent down to cry. The world she built within these walls, the hopes, and children she nurtured with love, and kindness were shattered.

Marilyn lost her only surviving parent at the age of fourteen. Her life has been filled with struggles, hot tears, and rejection. She toiled to attend school, and got a job as a teacher at the Being Human orphanage. A job she regarded, and passionately gave her best. Four years into the job, and one morning she’s called up, and given a saddening report.

Her gaze traveled to the little photograph hanging on the wall. It's a worn out wooden frame, a picture of her, and a lot of the kids smiling widely with no cares to the world. 

A fresh tear dropped down her right cheek. She picked the portrait, and sent it into the little box making her way out of the old room. Marilyn dragged the box on her left hip through the gates, and outside the orphanage. 

The cool breeze blew across her long ginger hair and she was forced to tuck it behind her ears as she walked aimlessly. Her heart was broken, and formed a dent in the corners of her chest it became hard to breathe.

Working at the orphanage wasn’t a money grab; she had better offers but settled at the orphanage. Likewise the orphaned kids she was one, and knew deep down it was best to take the offer. It was her own little way of contributing her best to those the society viewed as rejected.

She turned back to face the orphanage gates. The long black gates, and the beautiful memories created there. She wiped a tear rolling down her cheek with an arm, and wore a little smile consoling her broken heart. Better off the kids would be alright, taken care of at the bigger city orphanage, and provided with the facilities things this little town couldn’t provide. It was her most affected by losing her job, and the connection she mustered over the years she took the orphanage as her home, and the kids her kith and kit.

Tears blinding her vision she came across a speeding car, and almost got hit.

“Watch it!”

She fell into the middle of mud, her wooden box flew to the ground, the lock broke open with her little belongings flying across the floor. It rained briefly in the morning, and mud swatted over the area.

“I…I…” her words stuttered, sitting in the pool of mud. Her white dress was covered in dirt. A pitiable look glittered through her eyes. Worse, she had nowhere to go looking unflattering, and dismissal like this.

The car halted a few meters away from her. A dashing older man walked out of the car with a black tailored suit, a small scar to his right brow, and an interesting smile. He helped her to her feet, and offered a white handkerchief to help wipe out the dirt. The exercise worsened, spreading the mud across further.

“Good heavens you’re alright.” He said care was evident in his tone.

“T-thank…you.” Visibly shaken from the encounter she stutters.

“Frank Bush, and you’re?” He smiled at her genuinely, and offered a hand.

“Marilyn Edward.” She took his hands, and retrieved quickly.

He bent almost to his knees helping pick up the items laid bare on the ground, and put them back into the boxes. 

“Nice to meet you Marilyn, be careful next time.” He hands it over.

   “Do you mind if I drop you off at your place?” He offered noticing the distressed expression in her eyes. Poor choice in clothing, shoes, and her entire demeanor that made her almost get killed by crying in the street. He felt pity for the young woman, and something in his chest peeked interest in helping her out of her misery.

“No sir, I have nowhere to go. I work at the orphanage but sadly I lost my job.” She laments wiping out  a tear threatening to fall from her tear duct. 

“That’s harsh.”

“I need a roof over my head, food on my stomach, and a warm cloth on my skin. I have nowhere to go, and that’s why I almost ran into your car.”

“Okay this is my card, come tomorrow at 10:00 pm prompt. I have a job offer for you. My client has a need, and you’re good to go.”

He walks to his car, picks a few notes, drops it in her palm with a smile, and walks back to his car and drives away. 

Marilyn stood there speechless watching his car till it drove out of  view the cash in her palm, and the card resting in the other.

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