The billionaire's thirty-million-dollar bride

♥Cece's POV♥

Her hands were frailty and cautious, shaking gently as she reached for the hot tea. In her movements were so much of the woman she was and still is. They were ashen where the sunlight caught them, not ghostly like a pale zombie, but subdued and greyish. I think that's the first time I realized how vulnerable she was and how much of a toll the sickness had taken.

She was as tiny as a doll, pale with slender limbs. Her head was bald from the constant chemo and despite the sickness, she was playing with her pocket bible and still clinging so hard to faith. I loved her optimism and confidence; it kept her going and I had no intention whatsoever to break the news to her.

On getting to the hospital an hour ago, the doctor called for my attention only to inform me that chemotherapy had failed on mom; she had a sickness they couldn't cure and her liver was failing. Her body was slowly shutting down and no longer responding to treatment. The cancer had advanced from stage two to stage four.

How do I tell her the surgery wasn't worth it after getting her convinced to amputate her two breasts? It was terrible and I hated this weak sight of her. I wanted to do something to help, anything to aid her because it shattered my heart into tiny fragments but it was a lost battle because even the bible wasn't going to save her.

Cancer is a terminal illness, one that sounds like a death sentence when diagnosed with it. It does not only drain the body and soul but also one's health insurance apparently, leaving a huge dent in one’s finances.

I felt devastated after my spiralling mother was injected anaesthetic to make her sleep. My mother was the reason I got into the porn industry despite the fact that I come from a proper and upright Christian family. My father’s a role model at the church and it has always been the dream of my parents for me to be a nun. I was groomed for the role all my life. We were influential people in the church yet averagely comfortable financially. When my father couldn't foot the crazy hospital bills, I stared at the mirror one day and tore my nun attire to shreds, giving room for my inner beast to take over with the solid aim of kicking poverty in the ass and finally gaining my dream life of luxury with the baby girl lifestyle I always craved. I met William who is my manager coincidentally at the church during Sunday mass and he was starstruck by my beauty. He wouldn't stop complimenting my light blue eyes. He would always say I should be modelling because the world deserved to be dazzled by my unique beauty instead of covering myself and hiding in nun attires.

I’ve always been wild as a young teenager. I had this crazy urge to explore; satiate my curiosity. If I didn't know better, anyone would tag me as adventurous. I used to cycle around the neighbourhood to steal mangoes from a strict old soldier who would throw stones after me and yell curse words while I laughed loudly with my basket filled with large ripe mangoes I carted away and my jet-black hair flowing in the direction of the wind.

Mom collapsed one night when dad was away at a church convention. I called the ambulance as fear gripped my heart but the hospital requested some payments before proper care could be administered to her. Bewildered, I didn't know what to do. Dad's line directed me to his voice mail severally so I called the William, hoping that his offer to help was still valid.

William deposited a huge sum for the doctors to begin her treatment and that was when she was diagnosed with cancer. It was so overwhelming but Will stood his ground, helping in any way he could. It made me feel indebted to him, especially when mom started getting better and dad was still nowhere to be found. I felt I was turning my back against the teachings and principles of my religion by accepting this Good Samaritan's deal but Will promised to turn my life around if I could accept him as my personal Messiah and Saviour instead.

I tried to appear strong in her presence, offloading the groceries and food items I bought on my way here. She complained of a migraine and a nurse came in to inject her and within some minutes, she was fast asleep with her frail hands that clung to mine peeled off slowly as she fell unconscious.

I wiped the strain of tears off my face and stood up to exit the ward while saying a quick prayer for her. My eyes were blurry with tears, my body visibly shaken from the grievous news, my brain a mashed mess, and my senses melted into a puddle of crying mess. It hurts that I couldn't salvage this situation; all those thoughts were running through my mind when the force of an object knocked me out of my balance and I slowly felt myself tumbling down. I braced myself, ready for the impact of hitting my body on the cold tiles and bagging bruises and perhaps breaking a bone or two. And the aftermath would likely be a headache and torn skin when something caught me a few inches from falling.

My eyes were firmly shut as I waited for the harsh effect but alas! I was saved. I opened my eyes to find the most gorgeous brown orbs piercing my soul. It turned out my superman who came to my rescue is a more realistic version. A chocolate-skinned, tall and handsome model steadied me and for some minutes, I was lost for words.

His brown eyes reminded me of warm chocolate and his skin glistened on his Adonis bronze tone. His skin might be light chocolate but that did not dim the gold undertone from shimmering and leaving me slightly dazed. He was tall and lean with slightly chiselled muscles; probably a tower of 6ft5 with the body of a god. He looked like he was in his late twenties and judging by the fawning of the nurses and his nonchalance to their attention, it was obvious, that as a pretty-faced boy, he was used to having this effect on ladies. I cleared my throat and tried to comport myself in order to avoid looking like an idiot, assuming he didn’t already see me as one.

"H-hi." I stuttered, my tone came out high-pitched so I cleared my throat to start again. "Um, thanks for saving me." I shrugged and pressed my thumb and index finger together.

His mouth was parted in surprise and his eyes were squinted. "Are you alright? You don't look too good."

His accent was British even though he didn't look like one. I could swear he seemed more American than British.

I felt butterflies erupt in my stomach. It was the first time in a really long while that someone said something touching to me, and actually meant it. Most guys just want to fuck me at first glance and I usually feel their eyes undressing me in seconds, but this good-looking stranger seemed different and I felt a warmth course through my veins.

"I'm fine." I offered a weak smile. "I guess," I added and swallowed when I felt a lump in my throat the moment I remembered mom.

"That’s usually the automatic response to that question but I genuinely want to know how you feel." He finally removed his hands from my back and I inhaled and exhaled deeply, feeling cold already.

"You’re right!" I sniffled. "I'm far from fine; my life is a freaking tornado at the moment, driving me to an unknown destination."

"I know this is not the appropriate question to ask at the moment, but would you like to sit at a cafe and have lunch?" He cocked a brow.

"Oh! I'm fine." I said but my stomach grumbled ferociously and my eyes widened in embarrassment.

"I guess I have my answer then." He linked his elbow with mine and dragged me outside the hospital.

Usually, unquestionable obedience is never my style, but I let myself be swept away by this good-looking stranger.