A Year With The Billionaire

Isabella's POV

Being in bed for two days in a row makes me feel sick. This morning, I woke up with nausea but I still haven't gotten out of bed.

I expected to see Grandma yesterday again but she never came. I couldn't read or do anything. I cried myself to sleep and woke up with tears in my eyes.

I miss her so much.

I wonder if she has gone back to America or not. I wonder if calling her is a good idea.

I want to hear her voice. I want to apologize for what I did. I want to seek her forgiveness but I know the only way to do that is by going back to America.

Am I ready? Am I ready to face the whole world and not just Jayden?

I don't know what people are saying about the missing billionaire's wife but won't it cause a roll when I finally appear with a big stomach?

I wish I could go back to America but I feel now isn't the right time. I can't handle the emotional trouble that comes with going back and seeing Jayden or anyone that reminds me of him.

I don't even know if Grandma will take me back or let me stay in her house till I decide to come back and have my baby here. Will she even allow me to come back if she allows me into her house?

I am seriously tired of running from one place to another. First, it was Verona, then Tuscany, then Guadalupe before I finally settled here in Paris.

I know no one would ever think of me being in Paris.Content held by NôvelDrama.Org.

Hissing at myself for feeling lazy and heavy, I step down from the high bed, my stomach rumbling.

suddenly, the cravings for coffee hit me. This is my latest craving. Few months back, it was mashed potato and then grilled chicken. Then during my third month, I always craved milk at night and jollof rice in the morning. Last month, I badly craved eggs and bacon. I used to cook that every single day. And now it is coffee.

I don't feel like taking any other thing but coffee.

I don't have coffee but there is a small coffee shop across the road. I can even see the shop from my window.

Lowering myself back on the bed, I grab a jacket to head out. I should probably take the coffee downstairs to regain my strength before coming back up.

I step out of the door with a jacket over my sleepwear. I don't want to go through the stress of finding other clothes to wear. Everything makes me feel tired these days, including dressing up.

I'm frustrated actually. Frustrated because I am lonely and there is no one to share all these thoughts and emotions with. When I want to lock the door, I see a small note attached to the door just like two days ago but this time there is no bouquet. I pick it up out of curiosity and it reads. “The universe needs you and appreciates your beauty. The universe wants you so badly that it hurts not to see you every second of the day”

I raise a brow and gaze up. Looking down the hallway, there is no one in view.

Is this still some sort of mistake or my neighbour is right after all?

I squeeze the paper in between my right hand and take the staircase down to dump it in the refuse bill outside.

The person making this mistake should better come back to his senses as soon as he can because I can no longer take this shit.

This is like a mockery of how I look. I know I don't look beautiful and I won't fall for any sweet words of any silly man who finds me beautiful.

By the time I am on the last staircase, I am fuming in anger for no reason. Probably because of the insane man putting this shit on my doorknob or because of the staircase.

Everything is just so annoying. Everyone is annoying me, including the aged landlady who won't renovate this building and have an elevator here.

I move out of the building and onto the street. Looking left and right, I cross the road slowly and find myself entering the small coffee shop.

“Bonjour, I greet the barista standing behind the counter.

He flashes me a smile and replies. “Bonjour, madame"

“I need two cups of coffee’, I tell him, stretching some money to him.

He does not take the money but stretches two cups of coffee toward me. “Here you are.”

He is one of the few people who speaks English around here. He speaks slowly.

“Thank you’, I appreciate it and drop the money on the table, wondering why he isn't making me new coffee.

“You can go with the money, someone already paid for you", he announce, making me twirl back in surprise.

“someone paid?” I ask to be sure I heard right. He nods with a wide grin.

Is someone stalking me? This is more than a secret admirer.

“Do you know the person?” I interrogate him, hoping he will give me an answer. He shakes his head still smiling.

“Is he English?”

“He speaks French. He paid yesterday too but you didn’t come down for coffee which is why I am giving you two cups” “Thank you’, I say and turn away from him, my mind in disarray as I head out of his shop back to the building.

I really do not know what else to think about this person but fear is gripping me slowly.

is someone stalking me? Is he a mentally deranged for him to find me attractive and also pay for my coffee?

Who is he? Why can't he show up and have me throw words at him for being stupid?

Am I safe here?

I take the staircase up, resting at intervals and remembering that I was supposed to take the coffee in his shop before heading back inside.

That piece of information had gotten me confused. It is so sure that this is no longer a mistake but something planned by the so-called secret admirer who has no courage to face me. Some sentences are incomplete if you are not reading this novel on . Visit to read the complete chapters for free. He has no idea who he is messing with.

When I get to the fourth floor, I almost give up but I relax on the reins and inhale several times before I continue my journey up to the fifth floor.

I don't even remember to count to 50 because I am really pissed with the person doing this.

I dangle my keys out to unlock the door when I see another box on the floor. There is no note this time and my fear intensifies.

I glance around, an eerie feeling creeping slowly, tempting me to open the door and race inside and lock my door from inside till God knows when.

But my inquisitive nature won't allow me. I want to know what this is this time. It seems this person is watching me from someone and he is seeing every one of my actions.

Is he a pervert? Is he watching me from inside too? Does he see me whenever I look out of the window even though I haven't done that for two days now?

Hastily, I grab the box and it is heavy. I drop it on the floor again and begin to peel off the tape on it.

When I take the tape off, I open the lid of the box to see a bottle of wine.

Adrianna Vineyard.

My favorite wine.

jayden's favorite wine.

This is definitely from Jayden. Only Jayden knows about my love for this wine. Being in his house taught me to love this wine. A gasp leaves my mouth and I rise immediately when the reality dawns on me that Jayden is here in Paris and he is the one doing this.

jayden is the so-called secret admirer.