Chapter 2 The Ejection

I try so hard to keep my emotions together, then I turn toward the stairs and begin to walk slowly, fuelling his rage even more.

“You can pretend all you want, but I know that this is such a pain in your heart,” he says, running up to meet me and grabbing me by my arm.

“What did you think, huh?” that you could live your life and fulfil your dreams of furthering your education through my wealth? My hard earned money?” he barks but I look him sharp in the eye, still silent.

Oh, I prayed in my heart that he would hurt as much as a single stand of hair on my head in his fury, then I would get the chance to show him that I’m not just Rita Williamson, I could wreck his whole life in a second if I want to.

I scoff silently, pull my arm off his grip and continue walking to our shared room.

It’s one thing with these men who were born poor and struggled their way out of poverty, they think the whole world begins to revolve around them once they’ve made some money.

When I get to the other end, I finally pause to speak. “You don’t have to wait for the papers to be finalised. I’m leaving this place right now,” I say, a single soft spot in my heart patiently waiting for him to rethink his decision and say something but he doesn’t, only stands there with a slight look of regret in his eyes. But I bet he thinks it’s all worth it to lose me for a woman he met two months ago just because she promised him wealth.

In the room, I grab a small suitcase already packed with some clothes in preparation for this day. I try to act like I’m though, like the man who once meant the whole world to me didn’t just break this tiny heart of mine. Until I stare at my reflection in the mirror and catch a slight drop of tear about to escape from my eyes but I wipe it off before it even gets a chance to fall. As I’m about to walk out the door, the sides of my eyes catch a small photograph. It’s our wedding photo, a reminder of the betrayal in my heart. I turn the photo over, face down, my heart hardened.

Seeing that I’m ready to leave in that moment with just a small suitcase in my hand, Richard decides to create a big scene. Just while I’m walking down the stairs, I see some of his security waiting at the end of the stairs.

“I need this middle class woman thrown out of my house, right this moment,” he barks. But I raise my hand to speak. “They don’t need to put their hands on me,” I say. “I’m leaving on my own and they can escorts me out if they wish. Richard is shocked to see me with such outburst of energy from nowhere but he hides his expression. I turn to see the look in their eyes and it holds only pity for me. But I don’t need their pity and I can’t wait to see the look in everyone’s eyes when they finally realise exactly who I am.

I know they have enough respect for me not to get me out the way Richard wants but they still try to be strict and I totally understand why.

I slowly walk down the stairs and towards the door, Nelson's eyes following each step I take. Then I get to the tall brass door where Richard is standing. I can see a very tiny hint of regret in his eyes but it is overshadowed by the greed he has for more wealth, the same greed that made him think that I’m middle class and naive.

The security men escort me on foot all the way to the main gate, none of them walking a second faster than my slow steps.

“We’re so sorry about this ma’am, you didn’t deserve this at all. I really hope you would find someone who would treat you better than this,” one of them says as we get to the gate and I pause for a second, looking over my shoulders and then I nod once and walk away without a word.

I immediately grab my phone and dial a number and the person on the other end responds almost immediately, like he has been waiting for this moment the whole day.

“Yes, Miss Williamson,” he responds, his voice laced with so much excitement. I probably haven’t called home since six months ago when I got married to that greedy scumbag, Richard.

“I’m sending you my location right now. Leave whatever you’re busy with and get here in five minutes.” I end the call immediately.

Now, my heart is hardened and I’m ready to play this silly game with Richard. I would so enjoy the look in his eyes when he finds out I’m his secret admirer, Miss Williamson, owner of the Williamson Cooperation.

In no time, a fleet of gleaming black cars arrive with polished chrome and tinted glass. The lead vehicle, a bespoke Rolls Royce Phantom, catching ever Ray of the sun, was followed by two identical Mercedes Benz S class Sedans. An entourage of neatly dressed security personnel, their suits tailored to perfection, emerged from the accompanying vehicles.

Even in such a rich estate, every eye that passed stared longer than they were supposed to. The chauffeur, a man with the posture of a palace guard, held open the door to the Rolls Royce as one of the guards took the suitcase from my hand.

“Good to see you miss Williamson,” he says.

“Thanks, Robin,” I respond with a small smile on my face.