The Billionaire's Salvation

“If I am to understand this correctly,” Nicklaus Ramirez sneered at the petite woman in front of him, “you claim you are pregnant with my father’s child”. It was not a question, but rather a statement. One he made mockingly, as he was not inclined to believe the proclamations of the woman who had appeared out of thin air and had been solely responsible for wreaking havoc on his neatly ordered life. A life he was finally free to live unencumbered now that his father was dead. Vanessa Anderson instinctively put her hand over her belly that was not yet showing and studied Nicklaus Ramirez. She had never seen the reclusive billionaire up close before and the beauty of him stunned her. His majestic face was not to be spoiled by his sneer. She knew the powerful man standing before her would object to such a description. But her life was such a chaotic mess, that the only way she was still standing, still functioning and not curled up in a corner a blubbering mess, was by focusing on inconsequential things. Nicklaus' pretty boy face fell into that category. Because really, what relevance was it to her that he was too gorgeous to be real. Like serious, should a man even have such long eyelashes and smooth skin? He almost had an angelic appearance if she really believed in Heaven and God and angels and such things. But alas, she didn't. Would a god, any god, or even a guardian angel allow what had happened to her, happen?  Vanessa thought not. But this was her lot in life, and Vanessa swore she would see it to the bitter end.                                                                  Too bad a part of that meant she had to now deal with Ruthless Ramirez and that this was to be her first impression of him. It had not been her desire to seek him and his family out. If she had had any other alternative, she would not be in her apartment right now with him having this conversation.   What a jackass, she thought to herself. How could he blame her for this chaos they had suddenly found themselves in. After all, if his father had not forced himself on her, she would not have been in this compromised position.   Vanessa involuntarily shuddered as memories of that horrid night flashed before her eyes in painful detail.   At age twenty she had been armed with her Master’s in Business Administration and had begun her hunt for an internship.   It had not been difficult to secure one at one of the leading companies in the country, Ramirez International, Inc. After all, she was considered a genius, had skipped several classes in high school, graduating at the age of fourteen and gaining entry into Harvard where she studied business.   Vanessa was one of those unfortunate souls, whose parent(s) hadn't wanted her and had decided to dump her on the doorsteps of a local fire station. She wasn't sure if it was both parents, her mother or just a relative that did the deed. What she did know was that decision defined the rest of her life. Placed in foster care, she bounced from home to home, never to be adopted. She was never sure if her adoption-less state was due to her African-American background, her being female or simply perhaps because she was unloveable. Her coping mechanism became escaping into books. Vanessa read anything and everything she could get her hands on. Often spending countless hours at the community library.    Thus having missed most of her childhood because her head was always buried in one book or another, it came as no shock that Vanessa had been awkward, shy and naive when she had first started her internship.   Up to that point she had never viewed herself in a s****l manner. Had never even noticed when her body started changing - she started developing breasts or when her college classmates started noticing the rounding of her hips and the filling out of curves.   In truth, Vanessa had never been kissed by a boy up to that point, nor had she engaged in any form of s****l activity. So engrossed was she in her mind and in her studies.   It, therefore, came as a total and complete shock to Vanessa, when just after merely two months as the PA of Marcus Ramirez, CEO of Ramirez International, Inc., Mr Ramirez cornered her late one evening in his office while they were working on a proposal to convince the board to buy a chain of Laundromats on the East Coast.     She had heard rumours of course; rumours of her boss not respecting boundaries and his tendencies to indulge. But this had not bothered Vanessa overly, as she never listened to gossip and tried not to prejudge people.     Boy was she wrong this time. Had she listened to the gossip and more importantly believed the same, she may have been able to avoid the situation she all together found herself in.   Unfortunately, life had not gone at all like how she had planned and now she was four months pregnant, after being viciously raped by her former boss - the now deceased, Marcus Ramirez. May his soul rot in hell. She wished she could take credit for his demise, but alas, his death was simply karma at work.   Vanessa heaved a sigh and then squared her shoulders. She would not be made to feel guilty for what that despicable man did. She was after all the wronged party. Some may even describe her as the victim in this whole shitshow. But personally, Vanessa was avoiding using that particular word to describe herself. She had not really begun to process what happened, but only closed it behind a door of undesirables in her head. To acknowledge she was a victim, would be to acknowledge she was violated in the most horrendous way a person could be violated. She just wasn't ready to face that. Once she oped that pandora's box, she knew she'd become an emotional mess. Her baby didn't need that kind of negative energy from her. Perhaps after she'd delivered her baby, way into the future she might be able to deal with that tragic night. But not now.    “I will say this for the last time, whether you choose to believe me or not, that beast you called a father, raped me” she stated quietly, “and now I find myself pregnant by him.”  Vanessa took a shuddering breath. “As if being raped wasn’t enough, I now have to bear his child.” “Ms Anderson, you must understand why I find it hard to believe your tale. My father has been dead for all of two weeks. Now you appear out of thin air with this ridiculous claim,” Nicklaus drawled. "I must understand," she cried.  "Especially," he continued as if she hadn't interrupted, "since we are set to hear the reading of his will in a few days, and will soon begin to divide his assets among his living heirs." “I have not appeared out of thin air! I had relegated your father to the bottomless pits of hell where he belongs and the memory of that horrible night to the back of my mind," Vanessa vehemently stated, walking towards the window in her living room.   Turning once more to face Nicklaus, she continued, "but now that I find myself pregnant, I can no longer pretend the rape did not occur. I will not terminate this pregnancy AND my baby has a right to know his/her lineage. As repulsed as I am by the mere thought. I despise your family and wish upon everything I am, that I would not have any dealings with you. But I must think of my child and from personal experience, I believe a family, any family is better than no family at all.”   Getting highly annoyed, Nicklaus advanced towards Vanessa, “if you persist with this nonsense, I will not be responsible for my actions!”   Stark fear flashed on Vanessa’s face as she retreated a few steps, her back connecting with the cold planes of the window behind her. She questioned for the first time the wisdom of allowing Nicklaus to enter her little apartment. As she fought the oncoming panic attack, she wondered if the apple didn’t fall far from the tree and if indeed she would find herself being raped by yet another Ramirez.  It had only been twenty minutes ago she’d reluctantly allowed him into her small New York apartment.  She’d spotted the family resemblance between Marcus and Nicklaus through the peephole of her door—the naturally tanned complexion, similar bone structure. Only the son was by far more handsome and imposing than the father. Marcus had been full of sly smiles and fake charm, and ultimately inexcusable actions. Nicklaus’s face, however, betrayed nothing; it was so stoic she wondered if it would break into pieces if he smiled.   Marcus had, on a few occasions, mentioned his eldest son. He’d complained about how uptight Nicklaus was and how he wished he would enjoy life a bit more. According to him, Nicklaus was cutthroat and calculating, even with his own family. He’d nicknamed him Steel: for he looked and operated like the man of steel, a steel mind and a steel heart.  Vanessa had not even bothered to quit after the incident. She had just picked herself up and gotten out of the office and away from Marcus; never to look back until now. She wanted nothing to do with him or his company. In truth, it had taken her two months to be able to come out of her apartment. She was still very much traumatized and had been plagued with nightmares ever since. So to stand here and listen to her rapist's son call her a liar, felt as if she was being violated all over again.