New beginning: Billionaire love story (Claire and Alex) novel Chapter 423

Andrea paced his small apartment, phone clutched tightly in his hand, the weight of the recent call from Italy pressing down on him. His mother’s nurse had sounded urgent, her words echoing in his mind: “The operation needs to happen soon, Mr. Ricci. Without it…”

Andrea hadn’t even let her finish. He’d cut her off, promising, “I’ll get the money in a few hours,” even though he had no idea how.

Now, his nerves were frayed. Eligos had promised him instructions—had promised action. Yet here he was, still waiting. He glared at his phone, scrolling through his contacts to find the one number he didn’t want to call but had no choice.

“Eligos,” he muttered under his breath, hitting the dial button. The phone rang once, twice, and then went to voicemail.

Andrea cursed. “Of course, now you don’t pick up,” he hissed, redialing.

Andrea’s chest felt tight as he tossed his phone onto the coffee table. His usual lifeline, Eligos, hadn’t given him any instructions lately. Three calls to the man had gone unanswered, and Andrea wasn’t brave enough to leave a voicemail. Eligos wasn’t exactly the type to appreciate desperation, and Andrea couldn’t afford to cross him—not when he was already hanging by a thread.

“Think, Andrea. Think,” he muttered to himself, pacing back and forth in his small London apartment. His mind churned, cycling through options that didn’t exist. He didn’t know anyone in the city well enough to ask for money, and his own savings wouldn’t cover the cost. Time was ticking, and every second felt heavier than the last.

Then, like a lightning bolt, a thought struck him: Claire Peterson. His half-sibling.

The idea made him stop in his tracks. Could he even do that? Could he really go to Claire, someone he’d never spoken to, and ask for money? A bitter laugh escaped his lips. It wasn’t just awkward—it was borderline insane. But as much as he hated the idea, he didn’t have a better one. His mother’s life was on the line, and that trumped his pride, his fear of Eligos, and every other excuse he could come up with.

“Alright,” he said, taking a deep breath. “Let’s do this.”

Andrea grabbed his phone and started searching for Claire Peterson online. Surely, someone as prominent as her had to have some public information out there. And sure enough, articles and news stories popped up about her, detailing her role as the owner of Metacortex.

He scrolled through image after image of her standing in front of impressive buildings, shaking hands with important people, and looking every bit the untouchable tech mogul. His stomach twisted. “She’s not exactly going to roll out the red carpet for me, is she?” he muttered.

Finally, he found an address—her company’s headquarters. Metacortex’s London office. Andrea sighed in relief, grabbed his jacket, and headed out the door before he could second-guess himself again.

When Andrea arrived at Metacortex, his jaw nearly hit the pavement. The building was enormous, its sleek glass exterior gleaming in the midday sun. The company’s logo was etched boldly above the entrance, and people in sharp suits bustled in and out. Andrea couldn’t help but feel like a fish out of water.

“Claire owns all this?” he whispered to himself, a small, incredulous smile tugging at his lips. For a brief moment, pride flickered through him. She wasn’t just successful—she was extraordinary.

But the awe didn’t last long. He squared his shoulders, muttered a quiet “let’s get this over with,” and headed inside.

The lobby was even more intimidating than the exterior. Marble floors, modern furniture, and a receptionist desk that looked more like something out of a sci-fi movie greeted him. Andrea swallowed hard as he approached the desk, where a neatly dressed woman with a polished smile looked up at him.

“Hi,” Andrea began, his voice wavering slightly. “I need to see Claire Peterson.”

The receptionist’s smile didn’t falter. “I’m sorry, but Ms. Peterson is currently out of the country. She’s in Las Vegas for a business trip and won’t be back for a few days.”

Andrea’s heart sank. Of course, she wasn’t here. Why would his luck improve now? “Oh,” he said, scratching the back of his neck. “Is there… any way I can get her phone number? It’s important.”

“What?”

The man cleared his throat, feeling the weight of the moment. “Uh, boss, it’s me. I—uh—spotted Andrea.”

There was a beat of silence, sharp and dangerous, before Eligos barked, “Where?”

The man flinched, pulling the phone away slightly as if it might lessen the intensity of his boss’s voice. “Outside the Metacortex building.”

The response was immediate and furious. “What?!” Eligos’s chair screeched loudly in the background as if he’d leaped to his feet. “What is he doing there?”

“I don’t know,” the man stammered, already regretting his decision to call. “He looks... confused. Like he doesn’t know what he’s doing either.”

There was a brief pause, then Eligos’s voice dropped to a chillingly calm tone. “Bring him to me. Now.”

The simplicity of the order sent a shiver down the man’s spine. “Y-yes, boss,” he stuttered, nearly dropping his phone in his rush to comply. “Right away.”

The call ended abruptly, and the man stuffed his phone back into his pocket, already planning how to approach Andrea without making a scene. He abandoned his place in line, ignoring the irritated mutterings of the people behind him, and crossed the street.