Married to the Insane Billionaire

Alfred's POV.

“Father, Mother, I’m home,” I said with a small laugh as I walked into the house. I looked for them in the living room, but they weren’t there, so I went to the backyard to check. That’s where I found them arguing loudly. I couldn’t even remember the last time I saw them fighting like this. My mother had never raised her voice at my father before.

I cleared my throat to get their attention. They both stopped and stared at me for a moment. Then my father ignored me and went back to rummaging through some papers in his suitcase. “Mom, what’s going on?” I asked.

“Son,” my mother said, clearly upset, “your father wants to sell our house! He’s being unreasonable! Please talk to him—I’m exhausted from trying to convince him to stop, but he won’t listen.” She looked at me with desperation in her eyes.

I stepped closer to my father and put a hand on his shoulder. He ignored me and kept searching for something in his suitcase. “Father, why are you doing this? Do you owe someone money? Are you in trouble? Tell me—I can help,” I said, trying to stay calm.

“Son, it’s not what you think,” my father replied, sitting down in a chair. He looked tired and troubled.

“Then explain it to me!” I said, kneeling in front of him. “I’m not a child anymore—I’m 20 years old. You can tell me the truth.”

He hesitated before finally speaking. “Son, last month, I started going for medical checkups. I found out I have heart problems. But don’t worry, I’m not dying anytime soon,” he said, scratching his neck nervously.

“What? Why didn’t you tell me? Does Mom know?” I asked, turning to look at her.

“Yes, I know,” my mother said quietly. My father continued, “I want to do this for you and your mother. I can’t leave you both to struggle after I’m gone. I need to make sure you’re taken care of.”

I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t care about the money—I just didn’t want to lose him. But I still didn’t understand everything. “Father, if this is about money, let me help. We don’t have to sell the house. I can work two jobs. We can even move in with relatives or live in a small apartment—I don’t mind. I’ll sell my car too if I have to.”

My father shook his head. “No, son. I only need money for some inexpensive medicine. But I also have a business deal I want to pursue. If it works out, I could make $20 million overnight. Selling the house is the fastest way to get the $2 million I need to invest. I don’t want you working two jobs. I’m proud of you—you’re a good son. That’s why I’m doing this.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

My heart started to race as I tried to make sense of his words. “What kind of deal would make you $20 million overnight? That sounds way too risky,” I said, my voice shaking slightly. I couldn’t understand how my father, who had always been careful and thoughtful, could even consider doing something so dangerous.

This didn’t feel like him at all, and it made me uneasy. Deals like that sounded like something out of a movie, not real life.

My mother interrupted before he could respond, her voice sharp and filled with anger. She glared at him with a look I had rarely seen before. “Tell him what kind of deal it is!” she demanded, her tone leaving no room for argument. I could see the frustration and desperation in her eyes. She wasn’t just upset—she was scared.