His Billion Dollar Girl

PROLOGUE

IN THE MANSION of the Goodwell family in Bel-Air Los Angeles, California, at seven in the evening, a twenty one year old Lizabeth Goodwell was staring at a mirror. Feeling overwhelmed by her stunning beauty and getting ready to have dinner with her father. This would be the first time she and her father would be having dinner together, after she went to a private university and stayed in a dormitory for four long years. She just graduated and finished her college with a Bachelor of Science in Pharmacy.

The door of her bedroom swung open and a woman in her late fifties appeared before submerging from the threshold. She was wearing a maid's uniform, with apron overlying on it, smiling pleasantly at Lizabeth. "Your father is already waiting for you in the dining room, Young Lady."

"I'll be there in a few seconds." Lizabeth responded with a nonchalant gesture and countenance through her face. "You can go ahead, Danna."

"But he's a little angry, Young Lady."

"He's always angry." Lizabeth retaliated promptly, glaring sharply at Danna. She was holding a curling iron and was curling her hair. "When did dad never get angry or mad about something? He is always mad because of our pharmaceutical companies and businesses."

"I know, Young Lady." Danna reciprocated as she sauntered waverly towards the dresser, where Lizabeth was pampering her beautiful face. She stood behind Lizabeth, clasping her hands on her shoulders and stooped lower. "But he's angry to a different things this time."

Upon processing what her nanny was telling her, Lizabeth stiffened and straightened herself. She eventually contemplated and her brain coordinated with her in accordance to what she wanted to recall or rewind in her head.  Flash back of an old scene when she caught her parents quarreling for a particular issue. And that was related to her. Shaking her head vigorously, Lizabeth brushed and rammed the thought away from her brain. Thinking and recalling about it seemed so excruciating to her.

Abruptly, she stood up despite how her subconscious and her body rebelled against her mental decision. She shoved the seat a little backward, emitting a belching sound and making Danna step aback. "Who is with him in the dining room, Danna?" Lizabeth asked as she twirled at Danna. "And what are they talking about?"

Scared and puzzled by her young lady boss, Danna swallowed, clearing the lump that hurdled her throat. "He's with his right hand Mr Alexandro Panola, and his secretary Miss Selena Madella, Young Lady." She sucked a breath and exhaled roughly. "They're discussing about something which is related–"

"To me!" Lizabeth interjected promptly, giving Danna a sharp as a knife look that could literally ripped anyone's eyes. "That is his always problem." She drew herself from the dresser and ambled ploddingly straight to the threshold. "Let's go Danna."

"Young Lady Lizabeth." Danna called as she scooted, dashing straight to her young lady boss. "Please listen to me first." She added while grabbing ahold of her young lady boss' wrist. "You must calm yourself down first before going there."

"Why do I need to calm down?" Lizabeth rammed a question as she jolted from gaiting. She instantly whirled and glared at Danna. "It's not my fault why I am here in this world. Don't I Danna?"

The dreaded and petrified Danna reluctantly agreed and nodded. "Yes Young Lady." Her voice was wrapped with hesitation and fear. "It's everyone's right to be born in this world."

"Then good!" Lizabeth chimed quietly, grabbing Danna's arm. "Now let's go."

The walk in the hallway was like internal temperature blanketing them. But as an outrageous young woman like Lizabeth Goodwell, the didn't faze nor budge her. The hallway of the second floor had an Italian accent which the wall was painted maroon and the tiles that covered the floor well patterned, Mr Armando Goodwell bought them from Sicily Italy. And the tiles were air shifted using his own presidential plane, a week before the Goodwell mansion started its construction.