💞 THE BILLIONAIRE SECRETARY 👩💻
{He’s a segz freak
She’s crazy}
Genre-Billionaire romance
By Mhiz Topzy and Anny Oluchi
Not edited expect some errors
CHAPTER 61
JAMES POV
Life in Seattle had returned to a semblance of
normalcy, or so it seemed. The bustling city
streets, the familiar faces, and the routine of my
daily life provided a temporary distraction from
the ache in my heart. Yet, no matter how hard I
tried, I couldn’t forget about Amy. Her presence
lingered in every corner of my mind, haunting
my thoughts and fuelling an insatiable longing
within me.
Four months had passed since I left England,
hoping that time and distance would heal the
wounds inflicted upon our relationship. But the
reality was far from what I had envisioned. The
memories of our time together grew more vivid
with each passing day, tormenting me with
what could have been.
I found myself trapped in a cycle of regret and
yearning. The more I tried to bury my feelings,
the stronger they grew. The emptiness in my
soul only deepened, and it became clear that I
couldn’t continue living like this. I had to find a
way to win Amy back, to make things right and
reclaim the love we had lost.
One evening, as I sat alone in my small
apartment, the weight of my longing became
unbearable. I stared at a photograph of Amy
and me, taken during happier times, and my
resolve solidified. I couldn’t let fear dictate my
actions any longer. If I wanted to have any
chance of happiness, I had to confront my fears
head-on.
With a newfound determination, I began
researching flights back to England. Every
search result felt like a step closer to
redemption. The thought of returning filled me
with both hope and apprehension. What if Amy
had moved on? What if she no longer had any
desire to see me? These questions plagued my
mind, but I refused to let them deter me.
Days turned into weeks, and finally, the day of
my departure arrived. I stood at the airport, my
heart pounding with a mix of excitement and
trepidation. The familiar sights and sounds of
London greeted me as I stepped off the plane,
reminding me of the life I had left behind. It felt
like coming home, yet everything was tinged
with the knowledge that things had changed. I
had changed. I was determined to prove to Amy
that I was a different man, that I had learned
from my mistakes.
As the plane touched down on the runway, my
heart raced with anticipation. Stepping out of
the aircraft, I made my way through the bustling
corridors of the airport. The familiar scent of
coffee and the echoes of conversations filled
the air, bringing back a rush of memories from
my previous arrival in England.
The airport was a hive of activity, with people
rushing to catch flights, families reuniting, and
travellers navigating their way through the maze
of terminals. The sound of announcements
reverberated through the air, guiding passengers
to their designated gates.
I followed the signs leading to the immigration
area, joining the queue of fellow travellers
waiting to have their passports checked. The
atmosphere was a mix of anticipation,
excitement, and weariness. People from all
walks of life stood in line, each with their own
story and destination.
As I approached the immigration officer, I
handed over my passport, trying to contain my
eagerness. The officer glanced at my
documents, stamped my passport, and returned
it to me with a nod. With that simple gesture, I
was officially back in England.
Walking through the airport, I observed the
diverse crowd surrounding me. Businessmen in
sharp suits, families with children in tow, and
tourists armed with maps and guidebooks. The
energy of the place was infectious, the buzz of
different languages blending into a symphony
of cultural diversity.
The arrival hall was a hub of activity, with
people rushing to collect their luggage, taxi
drivers holding signs with names, and loved
ones waiting eagerly to welcome their friends
and family. It was a melting pot of emotions —
tears of joy, laughter, and heartfelt embraces.
Luggage carts rolled by, filled with suitcases of
all shapes and sizes, each telling its own story
of travel and adventure. The carousel rotated,
delivering bags to their owners, who eagerly
awaited their belongings with a mix of relief and
anticipation.
As I stepped out of the airport, I hailed an Uber
to take me to my hotel. The car pulled up in
front of me, and I got in, greeted by the friendly
face of the driver. He had a warm smile and a
welcoming demeanour that put me at ease.
“Good day, sir. Where can I take you today?” he
asked politely, adjusting the rear-view mirror to
make eye contact.
“To the Hilton Hotel, please,” I replied, settling
into the comfortable seat. The car glided
smoothly onto the road, and we began our
journey through the vibrant streets of the city.
“First time in England?” the driver inquired,
striking up a conversation.
I nodded, offering a small smile. “No, actually.
I’ve been here before. But it’s been a while since
my last visit.”
Curiosity sparked in his eyes. “Ah, returning after
some time away, then. What brings you back to
England?”
I hesitated for a moment, contemplating how
much to share. After a brief pause, I decided to
open up a bit. “I… I’m here to find someone,” I
admitted, my voice tinged with a mix of hope
and uncertainty.
The driver glanced at me through the rearview
mirror, his eyes filled with curiosity and
compassion. “A loved one, perhaps?” he
guessed, his tone gentle.
I nodded, a heaviness settling in my chest. “Yes,
someone very important to me. We… we had a
falling out, and I need to make things right. I
can’t let her go.”
The driver listened intently, his eyes focused on
the road but his ears attuned to my words.
“Love is a powerful force, my friend,” he said, his
voice carrying a wisdom earned through
experience. “It can lead us on extraordinary
journeys, even across continents. May I ask how
you plan to find this person?”
I sighed, my gaze fixed on the passing scenery
outside the window. “To be honest, I’m not
entirely sure. I’ve heard she’s here in England,
and I’m hoping to track her down, to show her
how much she means to me and that I’m willing
to fight for us.”
The driver nodded understandingly.
“Sometimes, all it takes is a sincere gesture, a
heartfelt apology, to mend what’s been broken.
Love has a way of finding a path, even when it
seems lost.”
His words resonated with me, giving me a
renewed sense of hope. I leaned forward
slightly, eager to hear more of his perspective.
“Have you ever experienced a love like that?” I
asked, genuinely curious.
A soft smile formed on the driver’s lips, his eyes
reflecting a depth of emotion. “Yes, sir, I have.
There was a time when I thought I had lost
everything, but love has a way of surprising us.
It brought me back from the brink and taught
me the value of second chances.”
As we continued our journey through the city,
the driver shared stories of his own trials and
triumphs, his words filled with both heartache
and resilience. His anecdotes painted a picture
of love’s complexities, its ability to transform
lives and shape destinies.
We arrived at the hotel and I thanked him
sincerely, feeling a surge of gratitude for the
unexpected wisdom he had shared. Stepping
out of the car, I watched as he drove away, i
made my way into my temporary
accommodation, I couldn’t help but feel a surge
of nervous energy. I needed to find Amy, to see
her face-to-face and plead my case. But where
would I even begin? I didn’t know where she
lived or worked, and I didn’t have any mutual
friends who could provide me with information.
I decided to start by retracing our steps, going
back to the places we had spent time together.
Perhaps I would stumble upon a clue or run into
someone who knew her. It was a long shot, but I
had to try.
My first stop was the park where we had shared
countless conversations and stolen moments of
happiness. I walked through the familiar
pathways, memories flooding back with every
step. I looked around, hoping to catch a glimpse
of Amy, but she was nowhere to be found.
Next, I ventured to the café where we had spent
hours lost in conversation. I ordered a coffee
and sat at the same table we used to occupy.
The barista recognized me and asked how I had
been. I mustered a weak smile and replied, “I’ve
been better.” I wanted to ask about Amy, but I
couldn’t bring myself to do it. I didn’t want to
risk causing her any more pain.
Days turned into weeks, and I continued my
search for Amy with unwavering determination.
I scoured the streets, visited every place we had
been together, hoping for a sign, a glimpse of
her. But she remained elusive, as if she had
vanished from my life completely.
I confided in a few close friends, hoping they
might have some information about Amy’s
whereabouts. They offered their support and
encouragement, assuring me that if our love
was meant to be, fate would bring us back
together. But deep down, I couldn’t shake the
fear that I had lost her forever…….