The Billionaire’s Hidden Heiress
[Book 2] Chapter 4

Lorelai

POV

I slowly unfurled myself up from the bed and staggered to the bathroom. Jackson had been careful where he had put his hands, but the bruises would take a few days to fade. It was a good thing Carl had given me the weekend off, I thought, putting a hand to my mouth, my lip swollen and split, but even then, I would still have to hide them with concealer and hope for the best.

I stared at myself. I could barely recognize myself these days. Everything about me catered to how Jackson liked me to look, from the long wavy hair to the subtle makeup and tight-fitting clothes that showed off my body. He liked to show me off in public and then become aggressive toward other men who dared to look at me appreciatively. Some form of jealousy that I was meant to admire and be grateful for. In the beginning it had seemed romantic if a bit over the top, now it just disgusted me. "Hurry up and get breakfast ready" I hear his voice mumble from the bed and turn to see him eyeing me.

I swallow down my apprehension and force a smile onto my face. "Sorry, I'll get started on it right away."

He rolls his eyes and hunkers back down underneath the pillow. There's no remorse on his face for what he's done but there never is. It's my fault he reacted that way. It always is. To argue or fight back is only to get it worse. I quickly scurry from the bathroom and head into the kitchen, quickly opening the fridge and grabbing the necessary ingredients.

Soon the smell of sizzling bacon and sausages fills the air. It smells like heaven. I hear the sound of the shower running and know that Jackson's gotten up and begun to get himself ready. I begin to hastily set the table and have it ready just in time as he walks in. His plates are on the table awaiting him when he comes out. He glances at it and then walks over, grabbing me roughly by the face and kissing me possessively. There was a time when I used to enjoy his kisses when I was fooled by his tenderness and his declarations of love for me before I somehow got here, and now his kisses made me numb and empty inside.

"You make me so angry sometimes" he murmurs, cupping my face and looking into my eyes "But you know I love you, right?"

I know the answer he wants to hear. "I know Jackson. I love you too" I say quietly, and he looks pleased by the answer.

It's the same answer he always expects to hear. He gives a grunt of satisfaction and walks over to his plate, sitting himself at the table. I grab my own plate and sit down beside him. While his plate is piled high with an assortment of sausages, bacon, hash browns, and toast, mine consists of a measly piece of toast and one piece of bacon. I have to watch my weight if I'm going to continue to dance at the strip club.

"We need to talk," Jackson says as he begins to roughly chew at his bacon, the grease dripping back onto the plate.

I try not to shudder as I watch him. Although he's a handsome man, his table manners leave a lot to be desired. The fact he wants to have a talk, leaves me a little cold and more than a little frightened.

"About what?" I stammer, putting down my half-eaten toast.

He shoots me a cool glare "If you're hoping I want to leave you then think again" he advises.

"I wasn't" I deny, shaking my head.

He looks unconvinced. I had once tried to leave Jackson, but he'd tracked me down and brought me back. I hadn't tried again, fearful he would kill me as he'd threatened to do. He said if he couldn't have me, nobody could. "You're not making enough money," he says, fixing his eyes on me "so you need to get another job to make up the difference."

My jaw drops open "Jackson, I'm already working nights. How am I supposed to work during the day? Am I just supposed to not sleep?" I'm trying to keep my voice from being sarcastic, but it's difficult.

He narrows his eyes "Don't take that tone of voice with me" he says dangerously as I swallow hard "And I don't care what you have to do but I suggest you find something. I spent our rent money."

I close my eyes wanting to explode. Tears threaten to burst. I was already working as hard as I could and I was exhausted. I rubbed my temples feeling like I was going to lose control and knowing what would happen if I did. "On what?" my voice is calm.

Maybe we could take whatever it was back and get the money back.

"None of your business," he says raising a brow "since when do I have to answer to you?"

I'm treading a dangerous line. He looks menacing. "Can't you cover the rent this time?" my voice is barely a whisper.

I'm practically pleading with him. He works part-time, but I don't know what it is. All I know is that he leaves the apartment in a suit and comes back at odd times during the day. The one time I asked he told me he worked as a bookkeeper which was clearly a lie. I decided I didn't want to know anything more.

"Babydoll you know I don't work like that. I have to keep my money for more important things" he drawls.

I want to scream. I want to bang my head against the table but what good would it do? I watch in silence as he finishes his food and gives a little hum under his breath.

"That was delicious Lorelai" he murmurs, leaving the plate on the table as he gets up and gives me a kiss on the top of my head "I'll be back later. Make sure that the apartment is clean and start looking for that job" he advises "You're a smart girl, you'll work something out."

He grabs his briefcase and begins to leave, glancing behind him suspiciously. The door closes behind him and I breathe a sigh of relief even as I began to feel a sense of panic. I've had very little sleep. It's late in the morning and I have no idea what I'm going to do. I can't ask for more shifts at the strip club. I shower and get dressed, still mulling it over, before beginning to absent-mindedly clean the dirty apartment.

There was very little that I was qualified for. It was one of the reasons I had taken a job as a stripper. I got on my phone, feeling trepidatious. I was hoping that something would stand out to me. I threw some rubbish in the bin and gave a bitter chuckle. "All I'm good at is dancing and cleaning" I sighed "Maybe I should get a job as a cleaner or something."

I spotted something on my phone and halted.

Luxe Cleaning Agency

Currently recruiting maids and housekeepers for wealthy households

Must be able to pass reference and background checks

A willingness to learn and a good attitude is required

Training can be provided

Contact Constance on ******** to discuss more.

Wealthy households? It was an established agency and it had glowing reviews by clients and employees, I noted. I frowned. Would such a place hire a girl like me? I doubted it but it wasn't going to hurt to contact the woman and give it a try, would it? What was the worst that was going to happen, I thought blankly. They could say no and I would still be in the same position I was already in.

The reference check would prove slightly difficult but I had done odd jobs here and there, including occasional babysitting in the apartment complex. I was certain I could use the parents for references. My background check would reveal I had no criminal charges or offenses and little else. Unless they delved right into my family history but I doubted they would go to that extent. Besides, having an alcoholic father and a drug-addicted mother wasn't going to affect my capability to work, I thought a little sourly. If anything I could twist it to my advantage and express my desire to continue to grow from that experience.

I sat on the sofa and stared down at the phone. My fingers traced the screen. It was slightly cracked from when Jackson had thrown it in a temper. But it still worked. If this paid more than dancing, I might even be able to give that up and just work the one job, I thought optimistically. Didn't wealthy households mean a suitable wage instead of having to rely on tips? I could bring home a regular paycheck for doing the same job I would be performing at home, just on a larger scale. "They'll never hire me" I whisper, feeling resigned. Not with that attitude they won't. Stop feeling sorry for yourself and make that phone call, or do you want to face Jackson when he gets home and tell him you couldn't find another job?

The voice inside my mind was mocking. I blanched at how cruel it sounded. My fingers hovered above the numbers on the dial pad.

Just do it. Christ. Since when have you become such a coward?

My fingers shook. My self-esteem was almost non-existent these days. The voice knew it too.

I began to press the keypad. One by one, until I heard the sound of a ringing tone, trying hard not to lose my composure and hang up.

"This is Constance how may I help you?"

"Hi, um, my name's Lorelai and I'm calling about the ad you had in the..."

"Oh, the Ad I placed online?" she interrupts, her voice smooth and pleasant "Well I'd love to meet you and discuss the positions in person. How would you like to come down for a conversation this afternoon?" she asked as I listened stunned "I like to get a feel for people face to face." "That would be great" I breathed, unable to believe my luck.

"Fantastic, I'll give you the address and if you could bring all your ID and references with you that would be great."

We spoke some more and then I hung up, my heart pounding. This afternoon would determine my fate. It was almost too good to be true.