The Billionaire Is An Ice Queen

| 01 | début

"What in the world does Ludovic Delmore see in that robot?"

"What voodoo magic did she perform for an elite like him to have such an unrealistic interest in a low class like her?"

"Does she even have a heart?"

Those questions roamed over school in response to our togetherness, like a virus spreading in the process of contamination.

However, Ludovic never cared for rumors and was content on building what we had.

Happiness is a feeling I've never been accustomed to. I never believed to be deserving of it especially when another person wished to offer me the world.

Nonetheless, my relationship with him was beginning to harm my academic performance and sanity.

Ultimately, I grew to accept we weren't meant to be since destiny never seemed to be on our side.

The look of hatred he wore when I broke things off is what has haunted me to this day.

Once word got around we separated, he reprised his role as one of the most desirable and single males' of Quivelon college. His eyes that once held a glint of friendliness suddenly became lifeless and he pretended like I didn't exist which affected me more than it should.

During the aftermath, Ludovic transferred school and his following actions are what caused my growing hatred for him.

No amount of therapy sessions could erase the memory of the vicious words scribbled on that infamous letter sent to me in response to the one I sent him out of desperation when I needed a friend during one of the darkest days of my life.

The day my sister was murdered in a hit and run because she sacrificed her life to protect me.

And the worst outcome is the perpetrator still lurks in the shadows rendering my sister's sacrifice as useless.

Useless because I'm not living the life she would've wanted and my countless attempts to find the killer for the purpose of seeking revenge has been futile.

"Good morning Madam Chair, right this way please," a baritone voice is enough to summon me into presence.

Standing beside the Rolls-Royce Phantom is my chauffeur of four years as he gestures to the vehicle behind him before opening its rear-hinged door.

Upon nodding curtly, I stride towards the vehicle before entering.

As I take the time to assess the white leathered seats and sophisticated dashboard out of habit, the familiar rush of emptiness surges within.

All my life, I've worked so hard to afford this lifestyle, and yet, nothing impresses me anymore.

With the heavy responsibility of running a multinational corporation, life feels somewhat . . .

Monotonous.

The top of the social hierarchy has never felt so isolated since my parents can't stand to look at me, precisely my father who often remains quiet but his eyes scream a world of regret after my sister's life was robbed.

It's justifiable —  I can barely look at myself in the mirror without blaming myself for what happened to her.

During most nights, I would often wait for tears to fall whenever the feeling of being a burden to the world invades my thoughts.

But they never do.

"Lovely weather we have today madam, wouldn't you agree?" the driver, who goes by the name of Sullivan, comments animatedly by the time he's driving at a fast speed minutes later.