Billionaire's Single Mom

“What’s in here?” I asked Peter as I scratched my head apprehensively.

My head spun as Peter grabbed my cell phone and tapped on the screen a couple of times. The doors started to rise as if by magic.

I started to count as vehicles came into view. I stood in shock, I shoved my fingers in my hair and sighed. I counted five cars and three motorcycles, one of which was piled on the floor, mangled and twisted.

“What’s that?” I asked as I pointed to the pile of twisted metal.

“That is the bike you had your accident on,” Peter replied.

“Holy fuck!" I blurted out. "I was lucky then.” I stood and looked at the heap of twisted metal.

“Come on. Let’s go inside," Peter urged.

I walked past an Audi A8, a Porsche 911, a McLaren P1, a Porsche Cayenne and a Ford Mustang Shelby Limited Edition; this was sheer self-exuberance as I entered the enormous kitchen.

Peter showed me around all of the rooms. I could see all of the latest items and gadgets you could imagine. All of it was just a complete waste of money. How could I afford all this?

“Did this actually make me happy, having all this stuff?” I asked Peter, my head unable to fathom why someone would go to so much effort to have the best of everything.

“I’m not sure if it made you happy for long, I’ll put it that way,” he replied. “At least you could afford it.” He fingered his way through a pile of DVDs.

“How can I afford this or did I just waste money?” I shouted from the games room down the long hall.

“Come here, I need to explain something to you now,” Peter's voice rang from the living room.

I left the game room and headed toward him. I took a seat as Peter sat close to me as my friend.

“I told you that you were Dad's favorite, right?” Peter paused. “Well when he died he left most of his fortune to you, and sole ownership of the business as well.”

“I don’t understand, why was it not split equally? I mean, surely that would have been the fair thing to do?”

“It’s okay, I’m comfortable,” Peter replied as he looked at me and grabbed my arm.

“How much did he leave you when he died?” I asked with a concerned and worried look on my face.

“That’s irrelevant, now is all about you,” he replied as he held my hand and squeezed it in support.

“Dad left you his personal fortune, the sum of 148 million,” he replied as my face turned a shade of gray.

My head was numb. If I could have, I would have puked.

“That is obscene. So, the company is worth nearly 150 million?” I asked as I leaned back trying to take it all in.

“No, that was just Dad's personal fortune, the company has its value, Elijah.”

“So, what’s the value of the company?” I replied as I shook my head in disbelief. I felt dizzy.

“The ballpark figure is close to two billion.” My face went white in shock from the news.

I laughed and looked at Peter, but he had a serious look on his face.

“I thought you said two billion,” I chuckled as I questioned the number.

“I did, the stocks have gone through the roof, and the company is a logistics behemoth, it won’t stop growing,” he replied as he smiled.

“So, what’s our position in the company, what do you do?” I asked him, excited about our positioning.

“I’m a foreman, Elijah. The company is yours."