Billionaires. Billionaires and their millionaire lackies. You can trace back every single problem in the world today to their greed. House prices, debt, war and famine. They were all connected by tiny threads that joined at the push pin stuck into billionaires on the wall chart of world ills. Lucky bastards who failed to realize that their supposed successes were built on lies and self-delusion. Billionaires were either born into it, born up to it, or fell into it through sheer dint of being at the right place at the right time. For every genius billionaire ready to tell you their system, there were a million failed geniuses with just as good systems who just didn't get the rub of the green. How do I know this? My dad. He's a multi billionaire. And a complete bastard. He's one of the rags to riches types. Worst kind of all. Once he made it, he pulled the ladder up behind him and locked the keep. He married my mom late in life, and had me quickly. Mom and I were closer in age than she was to dad. We were closer in lots of other ways too. She detested his meanness, his willful disregard for those less fortunate, his god given right to do whatever he pleased and fuck over whomever he wanted.
Case in point, I arrived home one day to find mom in the kitchen on a call.
"Hang on a second." She said into the phone as she gave me a quick peck and a warm smile. "Stay on the line and wait for my word." I looked at her quizzically, she smiled and told me to check upstairs.
Not sure what I was looking for, I mounted one side of our massive sweeping staircase and stopped, listening. That's when I heard the unmistakable sound of fucking. I instantly knew why mom was acting weird. I followed the sounds, careful not to make a noise myself. By the time I tracked the humping moans to the master bedroom, I was sure what I'd encounter. I was right and so wrong. The door was slightly ajar. Like I said, my father couldn't give a fuck about anyone. Pushing it open just enough to look in, I spotted my finance, Barb, astride my dad's naked, wrinkled torso, writhing in ecstatic delight. I watched like you'd watch a car crash. Unable to tear myself away. Disgusted and curiously aroused at the same time.
When mom touched me on my shoulder, I almost screamed. She nodded towards the stairs. In the instant before she stopped me, I had planned on confronting my dad and Barb, hurling abuse and storming out on both of them forever. Instead, I dutifully followed mom downstairs.
Mom, it should be said, was the kind of knockout only billionaires could snag. Short, auburn haired, pale. She had wide hips and big breasts. Everything else looked like it should belong to a Hollywood starlet. She was in her late 30s, very fit and ageless. She was quick to smile and slow to anger. Incredibly smart and more resilient than I ever imagined possible.
When we stopped in the kitchen, she raised an eyebrow as if to say 'So?'.
I began to rant about dad and Barb. She put her finger to my mouth to silence me, put the phone to her ear and said "Do it." Then she took my arm and led me outside.
Still in silence, we got into her car and drove off.
"What's going on?" I asked as we sped along a very famous road in a very famous city.
"Not yet." She smiled, seeming very happy with herself.
The valet took our car outside the incredibly expensive hotel, and I followed mom inside. We walked through the lobby straight to the elevators. As the doors closed, mom pressed the penthouse button and again smiled at me enigmatically.
"What's going on?" I repeated.
"Shhhh. Soon." She responded.
On the top floor, mom fished a keycard out of her purse and opened the penthouse suite. I followed, with far more questions than answers. Finally, when the door was closed, she turned to me.
"David." She said. "Your dad is a monster." I just nodded dumbly.
"I knew he was playing around. I always did. I guess I turned a blind eye, bought by lifestyle and security. But, that? That betrayal is unforgivable."
"I agree. But what are we doing here?" I stumbled.
"We're getting out of the way to let him burn."
"What?"
"Half of your dad's assets are in my name. He's been squirreling away money to avoid tax for years. He figured I didn't know what I was signing. He was wrong."
I totally got what she was saying. From the minute I hit 18, Dad was getting me to sign thick documents without reading them. I didn't know what they were, but I had an idea he was hiding money using me.
"Well," mom said, "I've just pushed the big red button."
I looked confused.
"Everything in my name or yours than can be liquidated and transferred through half a dozen offshore accounts is been transferred as we speak."
I mouthed 'wow' as the enormity hit me.
'Know how to become a millionaire?" She asked me with a smile.
I shrugged.
"Be a billionaire and fuck with your wife and your son." She laughed at her own joke I smiled too. In terms of revenge, this felt ok. I was still smarting about Barb, but I'd always harbored a doubt that she was only into me for the money anyway. Seems I was right, and she'd chosen to go after the motherload. Fatherload, I guess.
"What do we do now?"
"What do you do when you discover you father is fucking your fiancé?" She asked.
"Well rage-fucking his wife's obviously not on the cards." I said too glibly. Mom looked at me quizzically.
"I was just thinking about fleecing him for every penny we could, but I must admit, I admire your vision." She smiled.
