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THE BILLIONAIRE'S DESTINY. Flirting with Fate

Ever since James Barrington the third was a small child, he hated being told what to do. Yes, he was a rebel, a wild child. His mother died when he was in his teens, barely fourteen and his father… Well, suffice to say, he tried his best to tame James, make him into his image. He failed. Miserably. The more he pushed, the more James pulled. Then there was his grandfather. James’ father was his clone. To top it all off, he was the only child. The heir to the Barrington billions. Now his grandfather and father were setting an ultimatum. Give up his philandering and wild ways, get married and take over Barrington Enterprises. Or face being disinherit-ed. Even arranged for him to meet Marcy Davenport, eldest daughter of Richard Davenport, one of the richest and most influential families in Westwood. He loved his freedom he was twenty-six for heaven sakes. So, James being the rebel he was, promised himself to marry the first woman he runs into who didn’t know him from a bar of soap, just to shut the old men up. Destiny Johnson is a girl from the other side of the track. Growing up in a poor neighborhood, Destiny was used to having very little. Now she lives in a trailer park and works at a convenience store. James sets out to turn her into the perfect girl to impress his grandfather and father, the James’s as he calls them. But as he tries to change Destiny to fit his mold, she is slowly changing his universe around. With her different outlook on the world, she slowly reels James in, making him into the man he was meant to be. Call it fate or call it Karma… An accidental meeting changed both their lives in an instant.

Charmeleon · Urbano
Classificações insuficientes
128 Chs

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JAMES

Father stumbled away from me but regained his balance fast. “You’re going to regret this, Son. You always do.” He nodded at Destiny. “Be smart. Take the money and run.”

“I don’t need you to manage my life. I am done. Destiny and I will manage.” I held out my hand to her. She was pale as milk, and at that moment I felt like crashing my fist into his face for shaking her up like that. She looked like she was about to faint. But she took my hand, and I pulled her in underneath my arm.

My father whom I thought loved me unconditionally, straightened his jacket and tie, brushed off his lapels like I had sullied them somehow, said to me, “We’ll talk again when everything falls to shit around you.” He had to have the last word in, like always.

I chose to ignore him. With one last disappointed look at me, he turned on his heel and left. Minutes later I heard his limo drive off. Good fucking riddance.