The Billionaire Darkness

Chapter One Hundred Two

Olivia Thorne

When the weekend came along my mom and I got into her car and went to the therapist hired for me to talk about all the shit that happened between me and Demetri since of course there is only so much you can tell your mother before it breaks her too.

I pulled on my sweater something I'd been playing with the idea of I wanted to dress more confident but not showy so I began to use various shades that I liked and played with different clothing styles to find one that suited me and I felt worked for me.

As we headed through the streets of Brooklyn and towards Manhattan I spotted a shiny black Lamborghini Huracan Evo that was recently cleaned. The person behind the tinted glass wore sunglasses and was holding the side of his face obscuring it from view.

He wasn't meaning to pace us either he was just nearly level to the side of the car where I could look at him.

All of these black vehicle's with this hidden dark haired guy driving them I couldn't help but think back to that day where the Chiron parked outside during my shift, or my quick glance at Adrian Winters though I never caught a look at his face.

Maybe this is him, and he had good taste in vehicles.

I blamed being a bit of a tomboy when younger for that, and then thinking they were interesting since all the friends I had when little talked about them since they were boys. High School changed that I lost all of those friends and made new ones with Angela and Paris.

I also couldn't deny that though it would be a draw for most people, I just viewed it as a passion, and the minor appearances with Thornbrook's Polo Team showed he didn't care to be seen, he liked being hidden and mysterious. To draw assumption but never confirm it.

I learnt rich people valued perception from the Thornbrook photo gallery on their page Yet he no matter where I saw him on their page the 'someone who didn't care' angle seemed to the one he liked to choose. He placed himself in the shadows more then anything to remove the sharpness of his face to make even his physicality a mystery.

It made me want to know why he did it and if this was indeed him next to me what made a sixteen year old turn to secrecy, and flashy habit.

Suddenly the car in front of the Lamborghini moved onto an exit ramp and he upshifted swiftly before flying off along the highway at a pace more then was legal in any part of the world except for maybe the autobahn.

"Please if you ever have the money for a Lamborghini don't drive like that" my mom stresses.

"I'd be too scared of crashing to even think of that" I say honestly.

I also doubt I'll ever even sit in such a vehicle.

"At least I know you're responsible" she laughs and I smile softly before looking out at the city as we moved towards Dr. Niquaial's office.

The concrete, steel and glass buildings reminded me that across the bridge was a world that thrived on money. I didn't feel like I belonged here among all the wealth of New York yet I saw it every day when I'd walked home.

My mom parked twenty minutes later outside a brownstone building and we both got out before going up to the door that labelled the building with an address unlike the sign at the bottom of the steps in the newly tended to garden with colourful flowers that gave a name to the clinic and a phone number.

We then walked in to find that everything seemed very professional and not a lot of wasted space on the off-white shaded fabric walls, the floors had the short plasticky shag carpet that took dirt and rocks off the bottom of shoes along with maybe pieces of the shoes themselves.