The wedding ceremony between Melissa Fanny and Zion Don, son to the world richest man, Saint Don was an embodiment of wealth showcase. Rio Hondo was on total shut down, as all the billionaires and tycoons from all walks of life honored the invitation in a remarkably flamboyant manner.
On our side, as the Food Vendors that would host the refreshment, Chairman Hoffers Greenfield made a tailor-made jumpsuit for all his staffers. Earlier in the week, when I was piling and unloading the packs of food I would deliver to residents, I had seen the POS slip of money credited to Hoffers Food for the intercontinental recipe that would be served at the wedding ground.
Ten million dollars worth of English intercontinental refreshment!
The POS was bearing Saint Don as the creditor.
Saint Don! Indeed he was the world richest man and countless times I had wondered how fortunate Zion Don was to be the heir to the Saint Don Group. Zion Don had enormous wealth at his disposal and this was the reason the Fanny gave Melissa to him in an arranged marriage.
Zion Don was a perfect sight to behold and just like Melissa Fanny, Zion Don was a cutie whose personality the girls would court even if he was scraggly dressed.
A private jet booed to the ground and once the hatch door pulled up, Zion Don and Melissa Fanny matched out and let a contagious smile at all the expectant guests. With a clapping ovation everyone welcomed them and they stepped out of the private jet, hand-in hand, amidst tight security that flanked about them. The chanting and encouraging booing from the crowd encouraged them as they walked to their fathers.
That was the first time I set my eyes on him. Behold the man I had been craving to see with my eyes; Saint Don, Chairman Saint Don group, a multi-trillion dollars conglomerate in the oil and gas sector. From time immemorial he had been the world richest man. Although I was heartbroken that his son, Zion Don was taking what was rightfully mine, yet I was honored to see Saint Don.
The world richest man looked like an angel; like the grey sky overhead, he was aged but younger than me. He was white-bearded with soft facial features and thick pink lips. His skin was perfectly toned that I constantly wondered if one could use it in place of mirror. He was donned in Italian hat; English tuxedo, polka-dotted sleeves and bow tie, among all the billionaires that grazed the occasion, his party of security were in their numbers and looked exceptionally dressed in their red tuxedo and sunshades.
With Saint Don’s hand locked to Zion and Fanny Luis’s hand locked to Melissa, both families matched in unison as they presented their son and daughter to the officiating priest.
Hoffers Greenfield’s eye service increased beyond normal upon seeing Saint Don. He was shouting at the tops of his voice commanding us to go about our duties fervently and dedicatedly. I could recall how many times I had plied the road to deliver packs of food at the villas of some billionaires who didn’t want to eat at the reception.
“Brian Patrick don’t be such an ass!” He caught me when I was lost beholding a billionaire alighting in his glory from his fleet of Bentley Continental GT and Rolls Royce , amidst a band of pretty girls in their erotic splendor.
“Apologies, sir! Apologies sir!” I tendered remorsefully and resumed to go about getting the request of gusts who wanted their food delivered at their homes.
“I don’t want to get anything less than a five star from guests. Saint Don mustn’t write off our performance because you are busy staring at a billionaire and his girls. Do you understand me, Brian Patrick?” he let out a seemingly disgruntled voice which caught the attention of Lisa Bake
Our gaze met just then and I lowered my gaze once she noticed me. All the while Lisa Bake had been sipping her wine and munching her lump of barbecue without any intention to take it home but the moment she noticed I was the delivery boy on duty, she demanded that her pack of just a lump of half-eaten meat be delivered at their villa. She could eat that lump of meat at a swoop. She did this with a quarrelsome gaze being shot at me.
I dared to ignore her but Hoffers Greenfield groaned, “What are you waiting for, Brian Patrick?” he queried with his furrowed brow nagging at me. “Go right away and deliver it at her villa!”
“He must be fast about it too. Delivery boys nowadays are lazy yet they want to pay rent,” Lisa Bake told Hoffers and sighed at me.
“No ma’am my delivery boy is different. It would be delivered at your villa,” he replied her and turned his warning gaze at me.
I fought back my tears and managed to bow my head and mumble, “Right away, boss. I will do just that, boss,”
I murmured in my breath and about to pace to my scooter to deliver the food at the Fanny Villa, I heard the priest’s mind-seizing voice;
“Now you may kiss the bride.”
That very sonorous voice of the priest stilled my steps and my eyes gleamed to gaze upon the face of Melissa and Zion Don. Their faces were lit up with the glory of the moment, as I watched with bated breath; with warm tears burning my eyes and my head spinning under the sudden migraine that just started hitting in my head now. I couldn’t stand Zion Don stamp an engaging kiss on her lips.
That was my wife for goodness sake!
I didn’t realize when the tears trickled down my cheeks expressly because I was lost staring at them.
I dashed out and left the wedding ground to a lonely corner where I could weep to my satisfaction. It was then I caught the ring on my finger. She had divorced me yet I was still having our wedding ring on my finger.
With a trembling hand, I pulled it out, and trashed it.
“No…no… I... I must be rich... watch out for me, Melissa…” I stuttered through wailing…
~Watch out for me, Melissa~
The wedding ceremony between Melissa Fanny and Zion Don, son to the world richest man, Saint Don was an embodiment of wealth showcase. Rio Hondo was on total shut down, as all the billionaires and tycoons from all walks of life honored the invitation in a remarkably flamboyant manner.
On our side, as the Food Vendors that would host the refreshment, Chairman Hoffers Greenfield made a tailor-made jumpsuit for all his staffers. Earlier in the week, when I was piling and unloading the packs of food I would deliver to residents, I had seen the POS slip of money credited to Hoffers Food for the intercontinental recipe that would be served at the wedding ground.
Ten million dollars worth of English intercontinental refreshment!
The POS was bearing Saint Don as the creditor.
Saint Don! Indeed he was the world richest man and countless times I had wondered how fortunate Zion Don was to be the heir to the Saint Don Group. Zion Don had enormous wealth at his disposal and this was the reason the Fanny gave Melissa to him in an arranged marriage.
Zion Don was a perfect sight to behold and just like Melissa Fanny, Zion Don was a cutie whose personality the girls would court even if he was scraggly dressed.
A private jet booed to the ground and once the hatch door pulled up, Zion Don and Melissa Fanny matched out and let a contagious smile at all the expectant guests. With a clapping ovation everyone welcomed them and they stepped out of the private jet, hand-in hand, amidst tight security that flanked about them. The chanting and encouraging booing from the crowd encouraged them as they walked to their fathers.
That was the first time I set my eyes on him. Behold the man I had been craving to see with my eyes; Saint Don, Chairman Saint Don group, a multi-trillion dollars conglomerate in the oil and gas sector. From time immemorial he had been the world richest man. Although I was heartbroken that his son, Zion Don was taking what was rightfully mine, yet I was honored to see Saint Don.
The world richest man looked like an angel; like the grey sky overhead, he was aged but younger than me. He was white-bearded with soft facial features and thick pink lips. His skin was perfectly toned that I constantly wondered if one could use it in place of mirror. He was donned in Italian hat; English tuxedo, polka-dotted sleeves and bow tie, among all the billionaires that grazed the occasion, his party of security were in their numbers and looked exceptionally dressed in their red tuxedo and sunshades.
With Saint Don’s hand locked to Zion and Fanny Luis’s hand locked to Melissa, both families matched in unison as they presented their son and daughter to the officiating priest.
Hoffers Greenfield’s eye service increased beyond normal upon seeing Saint Don. He was shouting at the tops of his voice commanding us to go about our duties fervently and dedicatedly. I could recall how many times I had plied the road to deliver packs of food at the villas of some billionaires who didn’t want to eat at the reception.
“Brian Patrick don’t be such an ass!” He caught me when I was lost beholding a billionaire alighting in his glory from his fleet of Bentley Continental GT and Rolls Royce , amidst a band of pretty girls in their erotic splendor.
“Apologies, sir! Apologies sir!” I tendered remorsefully and resumed to go about getting the request of gusts who wanted their food delivered at their homes.
“I don’t want to get anything less than a five star from guests. Saint Don mustn’t write off our performance because you are busy staring at a billionaire and his girls. Do you understand me, Brian Patrick?” he let out a seemingly disgruntled voice which caught the attention of Lisa Bake
Our gaze met just then and I lowered my gaze once she noticed me. All the while Lisa Bake had been sipping her wine and munching her lump of barbecue without any intention to take it home but the moment she noticed I was the delivery boy on duty, she demanded that her pack of just a lump of half-eaten meat be delivered at their villa. She could eat that lump of meat at a swoop. She did this with a quarrelsome gaze being shot at me.
I dared to ignore her but Hoffers Greenfield groaned, “What are you waiting for, Brian Patrick?” he queried with his furrowed brow nagging at me. “Go right away and deliver it at her villa!”
“He must be fast about it too. Delivery boys nowadays are lazy yet they want to pay rent,” Lisa Bake told Hoffers and sighed at me.
“No ma’am my delivery boy is different. It would be delivered at your villa,” he replied her and turned his warning gaze at me.
I fought back my tears and managed to bow my head and mumble, “Right away, boss. I will do just that, boss,”
I murmured in my breath and about to pace to my scooter to deliver the food at the Fanny Villa, I heard the priest’s mind-seizing voice;
“Now you may kiss the bride.”
That very sonorous voice of the priest stilled my steps and my eyes gleamed to gaze upon the face of Melissa and Zion Don. Their faces were lit up with the glory of the moment, as I watched with bated breath; with warm tears burning my eyes and my head spinning under the sudden migraine that just started hitting in my head now. I couldn’t stand Zion Don stamp an engaging kiss on her lips.
That was my wife for goodness sake!
I didn’t realize when the tears trickled down my cheeks expressly because I was lost staring at them.
I dashed out and left the wedding ground to a lonely corner where I could weep to my satisfaction. It was then I caught the ring on my finger. She had divorced me yet I was still having our wedding ring on my finger.
With a trembling hand, I pulled it out, and trashed it.
“No…no… I... I must be rich... watch out for me, Melissa…” I stuttered through wailing…