Billionaire's Accidental Wife

Chapter 17 Dear Diary Yes, everything is surprising, a mess and I don’t like it. I miss the children, I miss Kenya. My life is changing again and I don’t need it. I take a deep breath in and exhale, nice and slow. This reality is going to take a hell of a lot to get used to. Not only am I no longer in Kenya, but my step-sister lives in a mansion with a billionaire? With Sebastian? A friend of Dave? This is not happening. Fuck it! But can I do something about

I’m not sure how quickly Christie expects me to adjust to having servants who will make me sandwiches in the middle of the night. Not that I’m not accustomed to wealth, but I’m a self sufficient woman. I don’t need a servant to do anything for me.

Surely she recognizes that this drastic adjustment will take some time to sink in? This 180-degree turn in my lifestyle is nearly too much to bear: the change in climate; the contrasting culture; the transition from third to first world; Sebastian’s home; the engagement; the luxury automobile; and the servants…

It is all enough to give anyone whiplash. Did my sister not realize I am fresh from a one-year volunteer program? To forget something? To forget my life? My past and my heart ache? A program that exposed me to people experiencing destitution, hopelessness, and devastation. How did she think I would react to such opulence back home?

When we step into the mansion’s foyer, the first thing I notice is the polished ceramic tiled floor and the huge, crystal chandelier hanging above our heads.

to a well maintained gorgeous garden fit for royalty through transparent glass doors between the two staircases. “Isn’t it marvelous!” Christie exclaims, doing a kind of twirl on her feet. Her movement surprised me. She is like a whole different person. I never thought she would be enamored by wealth, but evidently, I was wrong. Entering the mansion has transported me into a different realm. A realm that could not be more dissimilar to my tiny bedroom at the orphanage. With such thoughts still racing through my head, my sister proceeds to give me a tour of the place. “And here is the kitchen… Sebastian only has the highest appliances. But you don’t have to worry about using any of them. The servants take

back to the foyer and up the spiral staircase on the left. After we head down a long corridor into the west wing, she stops by one of the many doors

walk-in closet, en-suite, and sliding glass doors leading to a private balcony. This is utterly absurd. Is this a huge mess? I take a deadpan look around the room. “Isn’t it lovely, Lil? You are welcome to come out here and read. Or even have your breakfast brought,” sister continues, opening the balcony doors and walking us out to a breathtaking view of the gardens. Or should I come out here and flaunt my rank

not impress me. Not when I’ve just returned from

according to my sister. But I’ve had enough. My mind is racing from the events of the day, and I need to unwind. I’m so tired of everything. Damn it! “Christie, I’m tired. I suppose I need

at the ceiling as the events of the day flash before my eyes like I’ve hit fast forward on a movie. I consider my Kenyan students

be meeting Sebastian again, the “owner, Dave’s friend” in a few

I wake up from my sleep. “Chelsea. Sebastian is waiting for you