SOLD TO THE ARROGANT BILLIONAIRE

Willow

"Brrrrgh......" I abruptly woke up to the jarring sound of my alarm clock,after waking up and stretching, my back still feels sore as if I'm 40 years older. Why won't it ache, I do three jobs to make ends meet while my dad sits around drinking and sleeping his *ss out, while I do all the d*mn work.

"Another stressful day" I sigh to myself I need to be at my first shift by 07:00 am it's 06:15, great I have less than an hour to go to work. Struggling to get out of my messy room I sprint to the bathroom with the mission of taking a quick shower.

I made my way to the bathroom downstairs as I try to open the door but it wouldn't budge, I tried to pushing past the door only to see bottles of different kinds of Beer on the floor as I try to make a clear path to the other side of the bathroom.

"Another to-do list" I cursed out on the thought I have to clean up after my dad like he was some Kid.

Speaking of him, where is he?

I disregard the bottles, then swiftly shower and towel off before heading to my room to grab my phone.

I opened my contacts and tapped Allison s number while still wrapped in my towel, attempting to choose a less frustrating outfit for the day.

"Sup tree trunks... " I sighed at her lame attempt to nickname me. At least it was better than sugarcube

"Morning to you too, please." She cuts me off

"Don't worry I'll cover up for you but make sure you get your *ss in here, Miss Josie isn't impressed about what you did yesterday" I heaved a sigh relieved, she already knew what I wanted before I even asked.

"Thanks a lot. I'll be there shortly," I expressed before ending the call, tossing my phone onto the bed. I opted for the least bothersome outfit and headed to the kitchen, situated in the Same space as the dining and living rooms, forming one unified area.

I head to the kitchen, the cupboards are all empty leaving only a box of used pancake mix, I just remembered I was so tired yesterday I forgot to restock the kitchen.

I pulled out the box as I sighed.

"Guess I'm not having breakfast... " I sighed again trying to make breakfast for my Dad why do I do it even when what he does all day is Listen to the radio on his favorite channel sitting and drinking his *ss all day while waits for his 21 year old nanny to take care of him.

I should be in college studying medicine, but my dad has a mental disorder, a condition that leaves him unable to care for himself. Everyone abandoned him, including my mom and relatives. It's not his fault, he didn't choose to have this condition. Despite the challenging situation, I stayed to take care of him. Unfortunately, there's been no improvement, and sometimes I wonder why.

WHY DON'T I JUST GIVE UP.

I can't leave him now he needs me and if bringing my dad back to the man he was, meant I could go insane I'd do it.

Having finished making pancakes, I notice my dad heading back to his recliner, tuning in to his radio. I can't help but wonder, what on earth is he listening to?

I dropped his breakfast on his stool as he tries to search for my face.

"Morning, Dad," I greeted, receiving only a nod. Sometimes, I question if he sees me as his daughter or just a caretaker. Despite the lack of gratitude, I still smile, then head back to my room to double-check my outfit and grab my phone. The shock hits me as I pick up my purse. I'm f*ck*ng late.

"Off to work, Dad!" I half-yelled, getting a nod from him as he finished his pancake. Slamming the door behind me, I hurried to work, my heels carrying me as fast as possible.

AT JOSIE'S MODERN INN

"Welcome to Josie's Modern Inn. You're late," Miss Josie expressed disappointment, leaving me scrambling for a reasonable excuse.

"I... I woke up late," I stammered, feeling like my heart was slapping my brain. Why did I resort to the cliché "waking up late" excuse? I'm practically asking to be fired.

"Pffft... just go change and attend to that table. We'll talk later," Miss Josie instructed, handing me a menu. I grabbed my uniform and headed to the table.

"Finally, some excuse for service," hissed a young man in his early 20s, still engrossed in his New York Times. He set his papers down, and something caught my eye. It dawned on me that tonight's my shift at the casino. Due to unrelenting stress and work, I've missed several days. Life, why me?

"Fantastic, they've assigned me a darn dog as a waitress," the man snapped, pulling me back to reality. Now facing him, I gawk at the remarkably handsome man. He's so good-looking; it feels like a sin to be this gorgeous with such a foul mouth.

"Quit drooling and fetch me my coffee. Where's your manager?" he half-yelled. Suppressing my disgust, I tried to maintain composure while I tried to figure out his order.

"So what's your order sir...." I finally spoke.

"You weren't even listening... Hello, I want to see the manager!" he yelled, purposefully slamming his hands on the table. Miss Josie came to my rescue, sending me back to the counter.

I sighed, realizing I'm in a major mess. Way to go, Willow, that's one way to impress.

"What's the ruckus?" Allison joined me at the counter, and I pointed her directly at the chaos.

"OMG, is that Tristan Donovan ?" She began drooling, mirroring my reaction moments ago.

"Yeah, what's up with the dude? He acts like he can buy the whole d*mn city." I hissed.

"That's because he can. Don't you know? He's the owner of the biggest casino in New York. I thought you'd have figured that out by now, working in one," she said, playfully hitting me.

"Yeah, but I'm praying he isn't my boss. He's so arrogant..." I cursed.

"But he's single..." she whispered in my ear.

"I can't fathom how deep your head is in your *ss. There's no chance I'd date someone as arrogant and hotheaded as him. Plus, I'm just a nobody, and he's a f*ck*ng billionaire. I have this sense that he doesn't like me at all," I remarked while Allison poured a cup of coffee.

"Nothing is impossible. Besides, you can just be friends, and maybe he can help you out so you can finally go to college – the subject you won't stop yapping about. Second time's the charm," she said, handing me the cup and pointing in Tristan's direction. This woman is definitely on something.

"You're aware he hates me, right? And I already hate him too," I gritted between my teeth.

"Stop being a baby," she said as Miss Josie and Mr. Tristan walked up to me. Allison pushed me forward, causing me to lose my balance and spill the scalding cup of coffee on Mr. Tristan.

"F*ck". Silently, I muttered a curse as Miss Josie, fueled by frustration, swung a tray at my head. Mr.Tristan took a step back, his eyes fixed on the scene. My attention shifted to him briefly before Miss Josie scolded me.

"What's the meaning of this, Miss Willow? It was stupid to spill hot coffee on Mr. Tristan. Apologize," she spat out harshly.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Tristan. It was an accident..." I began, but before I could finish, a harsh splash of warm coffee soaked my entire body.

I gasped quietly, mirroring the shock of everyone in the room. Even Miss Josie looked at me with pity.

"Fire her," Mr. Tristan demanded, and as Miss Josie stared at me with eyes full of pity, I realized that dumping coffee on me didn't mean we were even.

"Ma'am, please..." I managed to sob.

"Pack your things and leave," Miss Josie muttered harshly, yet I could discern pity in her eyes as everyone recorded the commotion on their phones. I grabbed my purse and phone.

Allison , remorseful, looked like she wanted to step in and support me, but I signaled her not to—she needed this job too.

"I'm sorry," she mouthed as she hugged me. I attempted to wipe my tears away, witnessing pity in everyone's eyes, except for Mr. Tristan, whom I already despised for being an arrogant prick

.

As I prepared to leave, Mr. Tristan summoned me. It took immense effort to control my frustration as I turned to face him.

"Remove the uniform," he said with a smirk. Perhaps he regretted his earlier coldness. Maybe he wasn't as much of a jerk as I thought.

"Alright, I'll go change in the back," I said, but he seized my hand and yanked me back towards him.

"No, take it off right here, right now," he insisted, and I wondered if he had lost his mind.

"But, sir, I can't do that in public. I need to change in the back," I argued. He approached, and our noses nearly touched, causing irritation.

"Are you afraid of a little strip show? Take it off now, princess," he whispered, his lips brushing my earlobe, sending a shiver down my spine.

WILLOW

Phones emerged, capturing the unfolding drama in the cafe. As I surveyed the scene, everyone eagerly anticipated my next move. Whatever I did now would become the talk of New York, tarnishing my once-perfect resume.

In my mind, I envisioned the potential headlines: "Willow Davis ousted by New York billionaire bad boy," What's his name again "Tristan Donovan." How could someone so attractive exude such arrogance and a terrible attitude? I wished I could strangle him in that moment.

After orchestrating my dismissal, he had the audacity to tell me to undress. His breath lingered on my earlobe, and a smirk played on his lips, aggravating me. I shoved him away, a deep frown etched across my face.

"Screw you! You don't own me; you're not my father, you asshole. She was my boss, and it's her job to fire me, just like she said, 'pack your bags and get out.' And I did just that. Just because you're some spoiled brat doesn't mean you get to treat me like trash.