Chapter 1

Two Different Lives

Eight Years Later . . .

Seattle, Washington

"Mr. Grey, here goes your coffee," a very small trembling voice informs me. I do not bother to look at her. I am way too busy with my transactions. There are tons of emails that I need to respond too. Carrick will definitely go ballistic if I didn't do my job right.

I am not here not just to be a COO at 26 years old. I am here to be a CEO. I am here to prove that I may be his bastard, but I am the only one capable of being the company's next CEO. Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc. will be spearheaded by yours truly and no one else.

The newly hired assistant placed the coffee on my table and I took a hold of it immediately and had a sip.

I swallowed it painfully and threw the cup on the ground, crashing into pieces—coffee spilled like it got hit by a storm.

"What the fuck was that, Mallory? It took you an hour to make a coffee and it tastes like shit! You are useless!"

She was trembling, and it didn't take long for her to cry. It's just March and I've already had ten assistants. She's only been here for two days and she already starts to cry? How pathetic can she get?

Without further ado I said, "You're fired!"

"B-but Sir—"

"Pick that up and leave," I was referring to the crushed cup of coffee. She can pick it up and leave.

"Darling, I'll be the one to pick it up. Go now, alright?" I rolled my eyes at that. It was Taylor, my bodyguard and driver. The assistant turned around and ran as if I attacked her personally. Well, it was a professional attack. She shouldn't take it too personally.

I was left with a very disappointed looking Taylor.

"You shouldn't have done that," I told him. The assistant should've learned her mistake.

He shook his head over and over again, "Christian, what have you become?"

That's when froze. I stared blankly at my laptop, my eyes showing no hint of emotion and my chest tightening.

I felt Taylor carefully pick the broken cup off the ground while I sat there like a ghost.

I turned my chair around and saw my reflection at the glass window. I was incredibly different compared to who I was. This stranger before me wore a thousand-dollar worth suit and his hair was perfectly groomed by a personal salon expert. He had a golden watch in his wrist. He seemed to have everything but . . . he's empty.

Shaking my head, I stood up from my seat and helped Taylor clean the mess I made.

"I apologize, Taylor. I'm all stressed out and—"

"Christian, you and I both know that I'm not the one you have to apologize to."

I rolled my eyes. There's no way in hell that I'll apologize to an assistant. Then that's when it further sinked in: What have I become?

-page break-

Whenever I do something right, Carrick would just nod and tell me that I must keep it up. But when I do something wrong, it's like the whole world's about to end. That's why I cannot fail at what I do. I must be able to do my best to make things work. I cannot fucking fail at anything now. I have so much to prove to my boss . . . my father.

I grew up without my father, so it was a relief when I found him.

Without him, I wouldn't have anything at all. At my age of 26, I am already the COO of GEHI and I am very confident that I will be a CEO. I already have a girlfriend. She's Gia Matteo, a recommendation by Dad. We are not in love. How could I be in love with a self-absorbed bitch? I am only dating her because her father owns the highest earning business in Italy and Carrick told me that it would be a great investment.

A great investment good sex equals pleasure.

"Let's go, Sir," Taylor opened the door of the Mercedes Benz and I got in the backseat.

The day's over now and I'll be back at Escala, my home.

I laughed humorlessly at that. Escala is shit and it doesn't feel like home. I only drink there. I fall asleep when I'm too intoxicated.

Well, at least Gia's not there. She's a supermodel and now she's in Namibia for a photoshoot. I don't know where the fuck that is but at least she's not around. She's a nuisance. If it weren't for the money, I would've fucked another bitch. Well, I already did . . . more than once and she doesn't have to know.

I'm fucking disgusting.

My eyes darted to the window and I saw a little girl holding the hand of her father. These images of a family kept flashing by the speed of Taylor's drive: the couple pushing a stroller on the street, a little girl being cradled by her father, and kids just laughing with their parents.

My heart clenched as I thought her . . . of Ana.

I felt the heat in my eyes. I felt water threatening to come out. I thought back of eight years ago when I treated her like shit. She was pregnant, and I was in the dark and fuck! I hurt her! I fucking hurt her!

The guilt just consumed me. The anger couldn't be solved. The pain that I held inside was too much to handle. How could I ever do that? How could I hurt the only girl I love?

I laughed humorlessly but this time out loud.

Taylor asked, "Are you okay, Christian?"

"It's gonna be another shitty drunken night," I replied, and I could tell his eyes were sad.

The truth is I haven't been okay. When I came back to my senses eight years ago, I searched for Ana. I searched for her, but she was nowhere to be found. I hired a private investigator and he told me that Ana must have fled the country since they couldn't find any data about her.

The guilt crashed in once more and it's murdering me. That baby was aborted, and I couldn't blame anyone but me. Ana must be happy now with another man in another country. I closed my eyes and felt the pain.

Wherever she's now, I hope she's happy.

I hope she isn't living life like I am.

-page break-

Atlanta, Georgia

Five minutes more and I can leave work. Each tick of the clock is intimidating. It's almost as if it's causing me to feel more anxious than I already am.

I just sat down and thought of things.

At the age of 26, I never imagined life to be this way. I foresaw myself as someone who is a successful journalist, but I didn't even get a chance to earn a journalism degree. I was alone raising a child.

I don't regret it though. Teddy Steele is the best thing that ever happened to me. I couldn't imagine my life without my son. Without him, I would be so lost that I wouldn't know where to go. Yes, this isn't the life I imagined to be living, but it's so much better. My son is worth all the golds that I could have.

But your greatest love could bring you your greatest pain. And I'm in great pain.

It's been a year in a half since Teddy was diagnosed with cancer. His lymph nodes had abnormality and it didn't take long before the doctors identified his illness. When I found out, I was destroyed. I couldn't get out of bed for days. All I did was blame God and blame everybody for this messed up life.

If God had a heart, then how could he let this happen to my son?

I just lost faith. I just lost it. First, I had a very messy childhood. Second, my son's sperm donor (he doesn't deserve to be called a father) treated me like trash, and third, my son, the only one I'll ever love is suffering in the hospital and might be gone soon.

How horrible can it get?

I felt the tears threatening again. For a year and a half, I've been staying strong for my son when all I wanted to do was break down and beg God to take his pain away. I'll go through his pain. I'll go through it in every heartbeat. However painful it may be. While I'm here fearing for the life of my son, Christian's taking over the world by storm. Money, power, supermodel girlfriend, yes, he's the worst father to ever exist.

I looked up at the clock and it's already 7 p.m. It's time to go home. I said goodbye to Mrs. Raffles and she gave me a packed of vegetable soup for Teddy.

She loves my son. Nobody can't love my son. He's an angel.

I took the bus on the way home and by home, it is the hospital for children with cancer. As I rested on the seat, I received a text message from Jose who gave me an update that Teddy is okay.

Jose is my boyfriend. Well, he was my bestfiend back in high school and Christian was often jealous of him. He would cause our fights. But when Christian left, he took his place acting as Teddy's father. Of course, Teddy knows that he is not his father and I could tell that Teddy doesn't love him that much. Jose and I got together two years ago since I thought it would be convenient since he loved my son and he's my best friend.

I was living a simple yet stable life . . . until my son got sick.

After the thirty-minute long bus ride, I finally arrived at the hospital and I couldn't wait to tell Teddy that he has a vegetable soup from his favorite Mrs. Raffles.

"Knock! Knock!" I said as I opened the door.

"Mommy!" My son squealed.

It broke my heart to see him this way. He should be going to school having a normal life. But he's here, lost so much weight, needles pointed again and again, and extremely pale. He's wearing the grey knitted bonnet and he looked innocent with those grey eyes . . . his grey eyes.

"Guess who has a vegetable soup from Mrs. Raffles?"

"Yeheyyyyy!"

I prepared the vegetable soup for him and asked him about his day. Jose was the one who answered since Teddy's too busy savoring the soup.

"Teddy's doing good. He didn't vomit. That makes our day good. But yeah, he's still sad about Ronnie," Jose answered.

I grimaced at that. I wish Teddy wouldn't get attached to the kids here in the cancer center. One minute they're playing and talking about their own worlds and the next, one of them is dead. Teddy grieved for Ronnie. They were so close.

"I have to go, Darling." It's pretty convenient for me to be with Jose since he works night shift as a night photographer while I work in the day as an assistant head library as one of Atlanta's biggest public library.

"Thank you, Jose," I told him before kissing his cheek. He said goodbye to Teddy and my son enthusiastically said goodbye.

"Love you," he told us but didn't even let us respond as he already walked out of the door.

My attention shifted to my son, "Now how's Mommy's little angel?"

He groaned, "Mommy, I'm a big boy now."

I just laughed at that. But deep down inside, I was scared. Will I ever see him as a big boy?

I believe that God exists. I have always been a firm believer. But if he does exist then I can conclude that he is not a good God. If he has a heart, then why would he let this happen to my little boy?

What amazes me though is that Teddy continually prays every single night. He doesn't let me hear his prayers though. He said that it's just for him and God, a secret conversation.

Tonight, however, is a different story.

"Mommy, let's pray?"

"Okay," I said.

He knelt down his bed while I just sat by his side. As he prayed, I stared at his reverent face.

My son prayed, "Dear God, thank you for the vegetable soup. Thank you for the TV. Thank you for the hospital doctors and nurses who take care of me. Thank you because I have my Mommy. Thank you because I have Uncle Jose. I ask for a new toy. I ask to get healed and I ask to meet my real father. I love him, and I want to play soccer with him before I die. Amen."

He gave me a small kiss on the cheek before falling asleep.

I couldn't stop staring at him. He told me that his prayers are the same so that means that he is yearning for Christian every night. He longs to meet his real father. I immediately turn bitter when he says the words, 'before I die'. My kid won't die, right? That will not happen. I mean, it can't happen.

"Teddy? Are you still awake?"

"Hmmm?"

"Do you always pray about meeting your real father?"

"Everynight"

And I knew what I had to do. I had to even though it will break me in two.

From: Jels

Thank you for reading my work. I am writing this story as I have been so emotional. What are your thoughts about the first chapter of my fic?

Thankies.