The Billionaire Brute

by Hart, Romi

  “In simple words, you like to dominate her. Her mature age gives you a rush. You want to corrupt her, use her body, defile her in whatever way you can think of. Didn’t you tell me that your first experience was seducing her in a bookstore?”

  “Well yeah, but she wanted it…”

  “Did she? Or did you force her?”

  “I didn’t force her. I asked her for consent.”

  “I don’t believe you. Also, did you notice that you said, ‘You won her over? Now you want to keep her?’ You do realize that’s impossible. A man cannot own a woman. He cannot win her, as in a conquest. You’re holding onto very sexist viewpoints, Byron. And because Laura seems to enjoy all the sadomasochistic abuse you give her in bed, this just indicates it’s a dysfunctional relationship. Dysfunctional relationships never work.”

  “You really think so?” I say in confusion and with a major headache. “I mean, I’ve never thought of that before. You really think that I’m sexist? I never thought about it. I just wanted to please her. I was persistent…I even gave her the chance to reject me for good. Twice. But she wanted me or at least, I thought she wanted me. Now I’m not so sure.”

  “Let me ask you this. When you had sex with her, did she feel good about it?”

  “Well of course. Lord George is the best at what he does.”

  “What?”

  “Nothing. Go on.”

  “I just mean, Byron, did she immediately feel close to you? Did she want to be friends, to be lovers, to be your girlfriend?”

  “Well…”

  “Or did she keep saying, ‘This is a mistake.’ Did she feel guilty about it?”

  “Well…I suppose she did. But I just thought that was because of the age difference.”

  “Well, what did she say about it?”

  “That it was just sex,” I say, blinking repeatedly.

  “Just sex?”

  “I don’t know…she said, ‘maybe something else’?”

  “Did she ever say she was in love with you?”

  “No. Never. Maybe, all she ever wanted was sex. I get that. I guess that used to be me too, earlier.”

  “Hmm. Here’s the thing, Byron. Women are always the first to say ‘I love you.’”

  “Really?”

  “Women are emotional creatures, Byron. They feel love more strongly. Men are trained not to speak of love or share their feelings until the women has indicated she has fallen for him. Otherwise…”

  “What?”

  “Well, if a man throws around words like ‘love’ and ‘relationship’, a woman might feel exploited. Manipulated. Controlled. No woman wants to feel that way. The respectable thing to do would be to wait for the woman to fall in love with you. If that hasn’t happened yet, I don’t think it ever will.”

  “Wow. I guess you’re right. I mean, yeah we had really good sex but...”

  “Yes,” he says uncomfortably. “But really good sex is like good food. It’s everywhere. It can be cheap or expensive, based on what you prefer. Love, on the other hand, it is exceptionally rare. You only meet someone you really love once or twice in a lifetime.”

  “But…I’ve fallen in love before.”

  “Of course, you have. Because you don’t understand love. You don’t understand compromise. You certainly don’t understand gender politics. You make all these emotional decisions because you like the way it makes you feel. But love is more complicated than that, Byron. Or maybe it’s more honest to say…”

  “What? Say it?”

  “Love is more complicated for a man like you.”

  “A man like me? You mean rich?”

  “That’s not exactly what I was referring to. Byron, don’t repeat this to anyone else. I’m telling you something in confidence now.”

  “Okay.”

  “Your father is a very unusual man.”

  “Yeah, no kidding.”

  “He has what we in the field call, Narcissistic Personality Disorder.”

  “Okay?”

  “It means…well, in simple words, your father has no empathy for other people. He needs constant admiration. He is arrogant, self-absorbed, manipulative and very demanding.”

  “Gee, how’d you know that, doc?”

  “And contrary to what some people say, narcissists cannot change. It is impossible for them to change. It is impossible for them to love.”

  “But he’s married…”

  “Of course, he is. He’s married to a woman who pretends to love him for mutual benefit. It makes them look good in the eyes of the public. Many rich men do this.”

  “Well…I guess, but what does any of this have to do with me…”

  I open my eyes wide and the doctor nods. “You think, I…I have the same thing?”

  “It’s fairly obvious from everything you’ve told me. You don’t understand love. You’ve manipulated this woman into sex. And you have all these unrealistic demands that Laura could never live up to. You don’t want to love her, Byron. You want to destroy her.”

  “I don’t want to hurt her…”

  “And yet you will. If you stubbornly continue to date her and tell her you’re in ‘love’, you will absolutely hurt her. Deep down she knows this.”

  “But…no, no,” I say, panicking at the thought. “What if I know this is really love? What then?”

  “Let me ask you this. Has any other woman said to you, ‘I love you’? Or was it just Laura?”

  “No one else.” I start to shake my head. “Well, technically that’s not true. Jamie said that, a girl I used to know.”

  “And who was this Jamie?”

  “Just a girl I knew about eight years ago. We fooled around. I bought her things.” I stare at the doctor. “She said she loved me.”

  “Hmm, interesting. And what did you do?”

  “I didn’t love her. In fact, I felt insulted at the idea. I even told her, ‘You don’t even know me.’ And she got mad.”

  “So, when a woman does fall in love with you, you immediately decide she’s unworthy of your love. Does that sound like normal behavior to you?”

  “No, it doesn’t. Wow! I really am fucked up, aren’t I?”

  “If you don’t want to hurt Laura, you have to let her go. Or else she will suffer greatly. You will make her suffer. You will scourge her emotionally and she will beg for more abuse. Until someone drags her away from you, in a desperate attempt to save her life. Probably her mother or someone close to her.”

  My heart sinks at the thought. I never wanted to hurt Laura or her family.

  “Unless of course…” He smiles. “That sort of thing turns you on?”

  Laura,

  This will be the hardest letter I’ve ever had to write. I have been trying to figure out who I am, with the help of a therapist, my parents and of course, you. You have been so special to me. You’ve opened my eyes in so many ways and I’ll be forever grateful.

  But I realized something about myself. Something I think you already know but are too polite to tell me. You think I’m arrogant. You think I’m delusional or not in touch with reality, the real world outside of my mansion. You think I’m immature…and you’re right. Most of all, you’re afraid I’m going to hurt you. Just like your father, just like your ex-husband. Because all the men who thrill you and charm you, they eventually leave, don’t they?

  It’s not fair. It hurts so much when it happens. I don’t think I’ll ever know what that kind of pain feels like. And yet I understand it’s all that you do feel. You’re scared of trusting anyone, I get it now.

  And oh God, I am the last person you should trust. I am so fucked up right now. I don’t trust myself with you. My lust for you is out of control. So bad that I don’t think I can promise to take care of you. I feel bad…that all of our lovemaking was so intense, so dominating, all that S and M crap that gets me off. But it’s not what you wanted. I feel terrible about that.

  You never said, “I love you” to me, did you? Of course, you didn’t. Because I realize now
that you always saw through my bullshit. You don’t love me because you know what I am.

  You’re smart, the smartest woman I’ve ever known. You know what I am, you know the evil that lies in my heart.

  I’m not a superhero, I’m a supervillain. Plain and simple. I’m a narcissist, just like my father is. I’ll never be happy. I’ll go on looking for love for years, probably decades, always blaming the girl and never taking responsibility for my own mistakes.

  But I’m not going to do that to you. I like you too much to ever hurt you. I’m pushing you away now before I explode and take you with me. You deserve better. You’ve always deserved better than me. You deserve the best fucking man in the world. You deserve a billionaire with a heart if there is such a thing. Probably not. We’re all fucking assholes, that’s the truth.

  I’m so sorry. I’m ending this before anyone gets hurt. Please continue being the good person you are. Save people. Help turn the world into a better place, in spite of people like me.

  Chapter 10

  Laura

  “So how are things with Byron?” mom asks, her eyes lighting up. How ironic that as soon as I lose him, she actually starts to like him.

  The truth is I’ve been crying all week. I didn’t expect it to hurt this much. I always knew, at the back of my mind that Byron would probably get bored of me. I braced myself for it. I knew it was coming. But it still hit me like a ton of bricks when he sent that letter.

  Why would he want me, anyway? I’m old. I’m nothing special. He’s on top of the world and I’m halfway buried in the ground.

  I can’t even tell my mother the news or else I’ll start crying again.

  “It’s uh…good. I guess we’re slowing things down a little, to be honest.”

  “Why? You seemed so happy!” mom says, a bit worried.

  “No, no, nothing bad,” I lie poorly. “We just want to take things slow and not jump into a relationship too soon.”

  “Well, that makes sense. I would hate for you two to burn out before you even get started. You seem like such a cute couple. I really love how close he is to his family.”

  “Yeah…he is.” I’m sure they’re silently relieved. I never really did feel welcomed into their house or their lifestyle.

  “And of course, the sex is good!” mother says. “You know how difficult it is to find a lover, a friend, and a soul mate these days? I’m just saying don’t throw it away!”

  “Eeew mother! You are so weird.”

  I miss him. I think maybe I was too hard on him, too cold. Maybe he got tired of me playing games with him. I didn’t think I was playing, but I just didn’t think I could handle it. And I guess this proves that I can’t. God, what’s wrong with me! I can’t even think about my fuck buddy leaving without tearing up.

  He wanted honesty and I gave him honesty. Did he want me to lie? To pretend to be the perfect girlfriend and just let him spoil me, pamper me and tell him I love him like some stupid teenager?

  I was right. I’m just too jaded to be in any relationship. Especially with a younger guy. Maybe everyone is right about that. They’re too volatile when they’re young. They don’t know what they want. And that’s bad chemistry when you’re thirty-five and you NEED to feel loved. You need to feel wanted.

  Oh God! He did make me feel wanted.

  But he never made me feel loved. All I wanted was for him to just lose it, just for a second, and tell me that he loved me. By accident, just blurt it out. Let me know, I’m not crazy. Or even if he said he COULD love me, or he really liked me, something! Feel something, anything for me! Anything besides just sex. I don’t need sex. I need love. I want to love. You promised too much in the way you looked at me, shared with me. Made me feel like a part of your life.

  I guess it’s just better that we end things now. Before I let you gouge my heart any deeper.

  “Awww, my poor girl,” mom says studying my face. “There’s something you’re not telling me, isn’t there?”

  I blink the tears away. “I’m just keeping my options open, that’s all. I can’t afford to make a mistake. Not anymore.”

  I’ve been self-analyzing lately, trying to put my years of field-training to good use. Trying to fix my own goddamn personal life. I always knew going into that relationship would be sexual, and confusing, and of little or no real value.

  But why then, did I get the impression that Byron was falling for me? Is he that good of a charming narcissist? So much so that he has to believe he loves me, just for his own ego?

  It’s possible. But it didn’t feel that way at the time. Then again, narcissists usually don’t understand what they are. They just know what they feel.

  Maybe it only feels REAL to him if he’s hurting me or if he’s seducing me in some way. I don’t know. But I’ve wasted too many tears, too much time, worrying about HIM. What about me? What about meeting someone who actually respects me?

  I find myself asking too many “What if?” questions on my second date with Bill, whom I’ve always respected. And frankly, I never gave the poor guy a fighting chance. I was so caught up in my passion with Byron, I never really stopped to listen to Bill. A man who knows what relationships feel like. A man who loved and lost, not just a man who speaks of love so freely.

  “Is everything all right?” Bill asks me. “You’ve hardly touched your soup.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I’m just distracted tonight. I’m sorry!”

  “No problem.”

  “I’ve been a mess lately, Bill.”

  “Well, you certainly look beautiful despite being a mess.”

  “Thank you. I’ve made a lot of mistakes…”

  “With Byron?”

  “Yeah. I’m starting to realize those mistakes.”

  Bill takes a sip of the wine and nods calmly. His equanimity is quite charming. I start to wonder if I could love Bill. Maybe I could love anybody. Maybe I was shut down for so many years and Byron merely awoke the passion inside me. The passion that I could give to anyone if they just let me love them. If I just opened myself up to someone who understood the risks and precautions.

  “Wasn’t it, Anais Nin who said, ‘Age does not protect you from love. But love, to some extent, protects you from age?’”

  “I guess. Never read much by her.”

  “I don’t hold it against you that you have a thing for Byron,” he says with a charming smile. “He’s a young man. Attractive. Wealthy. Exciting.”

  I laugh softly. “Sounds like you like him too.”

  “I’m merely pontificating that it is human to desire youth. Like the quote says, we stay young by dating young.”

  “Oh really? You sound like you speak from experience.”

  “Perhaps. You know when I worked in Paris briefly, I met a young girl there. Legal age of course, but she was very young and naïve. I tried everything I could to bore her. To show her that I was just this crotchety forty-year-old fool and that she ought to be fooling around with young cubs.”

  “And?” I ask with a smile.

  “Well,” he laughed. “She was very intent on dating me. She was very much in love with my mind, with my experience and my appreciation of the arts. She loved to hear me talk. And I was…well, certainly not made of stone.”

  “Did you ‘date her back’?” I ask with a grin as he laughs at the memory.

  “I did. And it was magnificent. I knew, of course, that the relationship would be short-lived. It would always be centered on her and her needs. If she outgrew me, which of course she did, the only logical thing to do would be to let her go. And to be thankful that she chose me for an experience.”

  “Yeah. I guess that sounds like me, where I’m at.”

  “Don’t beat yourself up, dear,” he says, touching my hand. “Like I said, it is human nature to believe we are still young. To desire youth. And I say, if youth comes chasing you, don’t throw it away. As long as the relationship is ethical, you’ve done nothing wrong. Except open your heart to a new experience.”
/>   “I can see why your ‘French student’ was so smitten with you, Bill,” I say with a smile. “You are very articulate.”

  “Well thank you!” he says in a peppy voice. “And you may think I’m quite mad for suggesting this, especially since Byron is my competition, but have you really tried talking to him about what’s bothering him?”

  “Why would I? He doesn’t want me. The conversation is over.”

  “Is that what he said?”

  “No. He rambled on about being a narcissist, about not being capable of love. I don’t know. Seems like he had a mental breakdown or something.”

  “Well, that is concerning. But I feel obliged to tell you this, if he is, in fact, having a ‘mental moment’, then nothing he says is rational. It’s hard to take a young man seriously if he’s not speaking in his right mind.”

  “You think he was just venting? And wanted me to talk to him?”

  “It’s very probable he needed time alone. But just because that’s how things ended, doesn’t mean that’s how he wanted them to end.”

  “Bill!” I said, laughing at the thought. “You are too good to me. Why aren’t you calling him a loser and saying he should be grateful just to be with me?”

  “I have no reason to manipulate a response out of you, dear. If your attraction is truly for Byron, what do I have to gain by persuading you otherwise? I think it’s silly that you’re a grown woman and yet you can’t just sit down and talk to him like two lovers should do.”

  “You’re right. I do owe him at least one more conversation. He did do a lot of things right.”

  “I’m sure he did!” Bill laughs. “Plenty of times too!”

  “You’re so bad!” I tease Bill, slapping him on his hand. I almost feel like rebounding with Bill, giving him a pity-fuck for his time. I could easily fall for someone like Bill, even though he lacks the animal magnetism that Byron has. He’s smart and stable. Mature in his way of thinking. That’s what I should be looking for.

  But I can’t do it. I’ve learned by now that sex is a loaded weapon. I can’t just fuck and run. I can’t forget the experience, it stays with me. It becomes a part of me. And my heart lies with Byron. At least, for the moment.