Billionaire lycan: Wish upon a star

06 - From rags to riches...

(Hiraya POV)

I am already feeling better. These past few days, as I waited for my shoulder to heal, I did nothing but rest, and now I am very bored... and very hungry.

Sighing as I think about opening my empty fridge that echoes with memories of the scent of my mum's cooking and my favourite dishes, I gingerly sit up, testing my shoulder by rotating it carefully. Feeling confident enough that it won't fall out of its socket again anytime soon, I take another deep breath before heading to the kitchen and stare in disgust at the sink.

Of course, it is a mess. I haven't been able to wash the dishes in over a week, and now they've piled up, making me want to cry again. "Maybe I should just go back to bed…" I groan, rubbing my face with both hands. Not that it would improve the state of my kitchen. There is no one else who can take care of it but me.

I have the strongest urge to cry 'mommy'...but it would be fruitless, so I soldier on and determinedly march forward to deal with my enemy: the dirty dishes. "F*ck my life," I mutter as I see the growing moulds and encrusted grease, the hardened leftover food sticking like barnacles to a ship... and all the other unmentionables that make me want to throw up as the odour hits me. It permeates the air around the sink, and I run to the bin and start dry heaving...nothing. Because I haven't eaten, which makes it even more painful.

Even before the accident, when everything was alright with my world, I despised washing the dishes. They have always been the bane of my existence. Now, I have no choice but to do it myself, because no one else will do it for me. As I sag against the wall, sweat pouring down my temples, and my mouth tasting like bile, I vaguely remember the encounter that led me to have a sink full of dirty dishes.

I wonder if that man…Kaan… is feeling much improved. He probably is completely healed. After all, he has a battalion of people who work for him, and he doesn’t even need to lift a finger. By this time, I can almost bet the lucky bastard is looking for ways to kill himself again. I start to feel resentful and bitter, and I try to shake off the feeling, but it’s hard. Life is so unfair. I wonder if I would win if I sued him for what had happened. With my luck, I would probably end up losing the case anyway, even if I had every reason to win.

Feeling more depressed, I stand up and try to open the window to let in some fresh air and also to let the bad smell out. Convincing myself I just need to let the air circulate a little before tackling the dishes again, I force myself out of the kitchen, hoping that what Elijah, Kaan’s secretary, told me about my car being fixed is true. For now, I need to get to the store to buy some eggs and veggies.

My stomach grumbles like an old man at the thought of eating miserable soup again. Sure, it’s healthy and good for me, but what I really crave is meat and lots of it, possibly grilled, with richly seasoned potatoes, lots of bread, and buttery gravy. If only my wallet could afford it. "This too shall pass," I tell myself as I get changed so I can go to the supermarket. I have to convince myself things will get better, or else how am I supposed to go on? Manifesting is the key, right? I mean…I almost got the coma wish come true…maybe if I try harder, I’d actually get it right this time. No more extra words, just straight to the point, “I wish for a bag of untraceable, hard cash.” Yeah, that’s exactly it.

Weak from hunger and lack of exercise lately, I make my way to my car, praying Elijah had been a man of his word, and that the car has been fixed. To my utter delight, it starts without any issues, and to his credit, the man has even made sure that the gas tank is full to the brim! Yay for small victories!

I smile. “See? Things are looking up already. One just needs to maintain a positive attitude, right?” I mumble to myself.

Oh, Heavens! I notice that my car has even been cleaned, inside and out! The man is so efficient and really did a great job. Although, it must be so easy when one never has to worry about money. Someday, I want that kind of security for myself. Of course, I would need to be able to keep a job before I can do that, though. I wonder if Kaan can help me with that? Maybe they have an opening in one of his companies. It doesn’t need to be a higher-up position, I’m willing to work hard from way down.

Oh, but it would be so embarrassing to ask! He did give me his mobile phone number, and he said to call him if I needed anything, but like... how am I even going to start the conversation? We have nothing in common, and we haven’t talked since the accident. I wasn’t even very nice to him during our conversation, my frustrations pouring out like venom upon meeting someone so reckless, so willing to throw his life away despite having everything I ever wanted...

I grimace. Yeah, he probably hates my guts. What was I thinking? Well, I wasn’t, back then. I was in pain, I’d just lost another job, and I was desperate. Not a very good combo. Still... what was HE thinking doing dangerous things like that!? Didn’t he know how precious life is? How fragile and absolutely fleeting? Did he not have people who love him, worrying about his safety?

What a dvmb@ss.

I park my car at the nearest grocery shop parking lot I could find. Just because I have a full tank doesn’t mean it’s infinite. I would have walked if I had the energy to, just to save the gas. Who knows when my car will experience it again?

I am about to open the door when I see something on the dashboard that I haven’t noticed before. An envelope, with my name on it. It has a number that says “Please call as soon as you’re feeling better.”

I frown. There’s nothing else. Not a clue as to why I have to call the number. I hesitate, thinking it must be something that needs paying again. But what if it’s important?

“Oh, bollocks,” I mutter as I search the number on Google first. It appears to be a lawyer’s office, and judging from the website, a fancy one at that. My heart starts pounding. Why should I call the fancy lawyer? I gasp. Is he suing me!? That can’t be right, the accident wasn’t even my fault! I was minding my own business when he just suddenly dropped from the sky and injured me in the process!

As I start to hyperventilate from stress, I try to make sense of what could be the reason I should talk to a lawyer. Maybe I've got this wrong. Maybe the rich dude is offering me compensation after what happened. Yeah, that could be the reason. I mean, what else could it be? But what if it isn't? What if it's more bills to pay? What if...

I put my face in my palms and scream in frustration. What is wrong with me!? Now I'm terrified of everything! I need to get a hold of myself! If this turns out to be more bad luck, I will just...I don't know. Fake my own death and start anew, somewhere else. Which is dvmb, of course. It's not like I can escape my fate, not with my kind of luck. And without any money, I won't be going very far.

I take deep calming breaths as I prep myself to dial the number on my mobile phone. To my shame, I almost peed myself from utter relief when my phone tells me I have no credit left to be able to place the call.

I shove my phone in my bag. "Oh well, better luck next time, buddy..." I mutter. Just as I am locking the door of the car, though, my mobile phone begins to ring loudly and I jump in fear. An unknown caller.

I stare at the number on the screen, willing it to go away. After a bit, the phone stops ringing and I sigh in relief, but it starts to ring again immediately after that and I almost drop my mobile. Deciding this is not worth stressing over for a long time, I answer the call.

"H...Hello?"

"Miss Raya? This is Elijah, Mr. Walton's secretary. I'm sorry for disturbing you, but I have been told you still haven't contacted the number I left on your dashboard, and I was wondering if perhaps there is a problem?"

The problem is that I'm a stressed scaredy-cat who doesn't want to call unknown numbers for unknown reasons.

I clear my throat. "Um...no, I'm sorry, I didn't...I didn't see the note, I just...I just got out of bed." I lie, hoping I can get away with it. I did try to call, I just didn't have enough credit. But I'm not telling him that.

"I understand. I urge you to call the number as soon as you can so we may settle the arrangements as soon as possible—”

"Wait, wait, wait!" I stop him. "Settle the what now?"

Elijah clears his throat. "I apologise, it seems you might have been a little unwell during our last conversation. Let me explain it again. As the injured party during the accident last week, my boss is willing to pay you, with everything written down for both parties, a settlement amount that will be acceptable, with the premise that you agree to keep what happened private. The lawyer will let you know the details, should you decide to talk to him yourself or you can give his number to your lawyer if you choose to be represented by one."

I laugh. Like I can afford a lawyer. "Um, I'll talk to the lawyer myself."

"Very good."

I buy some groceries and credit for my phone to be able to place the call, rolling my eyes when a snooty voice answers from the lawyer's office, letting me know the attorney is not in but she will take a message. I tell her my name, and the snooty voice immediately becomes more friendly and tells me she is actually expecting the call. She says that she is supposed to give me an appointment whenever I'm free to come to the office. I tell her I'll come by tomorrow, and she approves it at my earliest convenience.

I stare at my phone in confusion after the call. "What the hell was that?"

The next day, wearing the best clothes I can find, given the fanciness I expect to find, I present myself to the fancy lawyer's office and tell the snooty sounding secretary my name. They do not even keep me waiting. I am herded directly to the private office and served coffee with extra cream and a bowl of beautiful sugar cubes. I am almost tempted to pour the whole lot inside my purse.

The lawyer that greets me pleasantly goes straight to business after the mandatory pleasantries. "Fifty thousand dollars."