Billionaires' War (Completed)

Chapter 3

The week went by as expected, stressful. Charles continued to try to talk to me at work and Andrea had to constantly step in with some excuse. Omer was spotted again with his ex-fiancee out to dinner. TMZ and E! News were having a feast with that one. Although lucky for me there didn't seem to be videos or pictures showing any public affection. So at least I can say he's trying to keep it discrete.

I, myself, am trying to keep a low profile. Since the news broke out that my divorce was finalized, then I remarried shortly after, I have become a target to paparazzi. Not to say the least that the public, as well as the media, have been torn between team Cles (Charles and I) and team Omera (Omer and I). How they come up with these ridiculous couple names is beyond me.

I figured having a meeting with Hail Couture's ex-owner at the country club would be rather refreshing unlike the office, but no. The constant pounding in my head says otherwise.

"Cora? Cora?"

I blinked rapidly. "Huh? I'm sorry come again?"

"I was just thanking you for everything you're doing for Hail Couture." Frank Hail smiled at me making his wrinkles prominent.

"It's just business. You know that."

"I know, but still. I just can't imagine my life's work being bankrupted. My team at first suggested just selling it to Omer, but your company's legacy about rebuilding a brands name and keeping someone else's legacy alive is what I was after. Thank you for giving us a chance."

"Seriously, this is just good business for us. We have a two year plan set to begin next week. If all goes well you can buy your company back from us later on."

"First I have to figure out how to afford it." He laughs.

"Well, you have two years to figure it out."

He just laughs. "You're much like your father you know?"

"You knew my father?"

"Yes, he was more of a golf friend. We used to meet here with a few other fellows to golf. You have his charisma. By the way my condolences. He was a good man."

"Thank you." I shook my head from the emotional trance. I stood up. "Well, Mr. Hail. We will keep in touch." I shook his hand.

"We will, Mrs. Ver- I mean Aslan now. Mrs. Aslan." He turns and leaves.

The waiter comes. "Anything else I can get you, Mrs. Aslan?"

"No-" I heard screaming behind me. I turned around to see a young black girl jabbing a finger to a old man, I recognize as Pearson William's, CEO of Volt Auto.

"You disgusting pig! Like what are you? One hundred and one? Instead of reaching for my ass you need to prepare to reach for that coffin you gonna be in soon."

I grin. Pearson has been known to be a machivist and a little too touchy. Although I've never seen or heard of anyone blantly say anything to his face. Girl power to her.

I notice the manager arriving. "Is there a problem here?"

"Yes! He grabbed my ass!" The girl exclaimed.

"I demand an apology. This girl has disrespected me in front of my colleagues. What kind of help do you hire around here?"

"I apologize for this. Chloe apologize to Mr. Pearson Williams." The manager emphasizes the name.

"Like hell I will. I rather choke on acid than say sorry to this pig."

Pearson veins start popping put of his forehead. "The disrespect! Fire this ghetto girl now!"

"Ghetto? Ghetto?  Oh, I'll show you ghetto you piece of-"

"Chloe! Empty out your locker. You are officially fired."

She stared at her boss. "What? But this wasn't even my fault? I need this job, Jim."

Pearson smiled accepting his victory. I rolled my eyes. I slapped some money onto the table and stalked my way towards them. Enough is enough.

"Excuse me." They all turn to me. I focused my attention to Pearson. "You'd think after all this Me Too movement men who grow a brain and not sexually harass women. Seems like your all out of brains, Pearson."

"Stay out of this, Cora."

"I wonder what Angelina would say about this. I bet she's just itching for that settlement and Alimony. Not having a prenup is a bitch isn't it?" He glares at me. "I don't ever want to see you in this club again. Nor do I even want to hear of you ever putting your unwelcomed hands on anyone. By the way before you answer. I know your little secret you're hiding in South America, Brazil to be exact." His eyes widen. "I'm sure Angelina will love to hear all about it." I refer to his bastard son he's trying so hard to keep a secret. "Now leave." He and the men around him stood up and left.

My headache returns. I really need a pain killer. I turn to the manager. "I hope next time you make better choices. My husband nor I, will not tolerate any of this."

He nodded feverishly. "Yes. Mrs. Alsan. Will not happen again." I turn to walk away, but stopped short and turn back around. "Oh, and I expect her to wait my table everytime I'm here. I will not accept anyone else."

"Of course."

I leave. How these things continue to happen just shows the type of world we live in. Disgusting.

****

"Marcus, I don't plan on going anywhere tonight. You're free to leave."

He finally gives in and leaves. I get into the elevator and wave my goodbye to him. I looked at my watch. It's only 6pm. I hear the bing from the elevator announcing my own arrival to my penthouse.

I take off my shoes and throw my purse on the side table. Home sweet home. I walk to the kitchen and pour myself a glass of wine.
I make my way towards the balcony, but stop. I raise my eyebrows in confusion.

"Omer?" He sits calmly on my sectional. Just looking at me with his dark eyes. "How did you get in here? How long have you even been here?" He stands up. Fully composed. No emotion. I wonder if it's easy looking like a robot. Probably never laughed in his life. "Would you like something to drink?" It feels weird just having him analyze me like that. I know he's a man of few words, but he's looks more mute than anything else.

"I'm being followed everywhere I go." He finally says.

"Okay...?"

"I'm being followed because of you."

I shake my head. "Are you talking about paparazzi?" He didn't bother to even nod so I took that as a yes. "They've been following me around too. We've become a hot topic lately. They even gave us a name. Omera. Its dreadful, I know."

"It's starting to upset Veronica."

I rolled my eyes. So that's why he's here. "Well, maybe if you were a bit better in hiding your affair, she would've been left alone."

"There's headlines about our alleged affair."

"It's not alleged when you are having one."

"We need to convince them that I am not having one. I don't want her on the cover of any tabloid scandal."

I let out a breath of frustration. "What do you want me to do, Omer? Tweet out leave my husband's mistress alone? I'm sure TMZ would love that."

"We will portray this marriage as real. Tommorow night I have a business event to go to. We can debut this there. Be ready at eight in the evening." He stands and fixes his suit. He gave me a cold look before passing me. Not even waiting for my response.

I roll my eyes. I don't even bother to turn around when I hear the bing of the evelator. I down my glass of wine and go to my room, throwing myself on the bed. Before I fall sleep I just have one thing on my mind.

I can't wait to divorce him.