I Didn't Know He Was My Boss: A Billionaire's Marriage of Convenience Romance

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I Didn't Know He Was My Boss: A Billionaire's Marriage of Convenience Romance Page 13

by Marian Tee

Perfect, he was so perfect.

  Her nails raked his back. “I love you.” She couldn’t stop saying it. “Ti amo—-”

  The Italian words of ‘I love you’ seemed to do it for her husband, and he jerked above her, a powerful shudder racking his body.

  “Ti amo,” he rasped back at her.

  And then he was moving almost wildly, his thrusts fast and furious, and Vivian could only cling helplessly to his hard frame, completely lost in his power.

  “Open your eyes, cara,” Luca growled.

  She was unable to resist his command, and her eyes fluttered open.

  “Look at how our bodies are connected.”

  His command had her looking down, all the way to where his engorged erection disappeared into the swollen folds of her core—-

  The sight was excruciatingly arousing, and she whimpered.

  With Vivian still staring, the billionaire withdrew his erection almost all the way out before slowly and firmly shoving back in.

  Aaaaaaaah.

  “Oh God,” she sobbed out. “Luca.” The sight was addictive, and she could no longer stop staring as he pumped into her again and again.

  “Swear to me, Vivi.” Clasping her hips tightly, he gritted out, “This connection will only be for the two of us.”

  Her lips parted, but she couldn’t get herself to be coherent, was too consumed by the feeling of having him penetrate her all the way to her womb.

  “Swear to me, cara.” Her husband pushed harder into her. “Now and always—-” And when she still didn’t answer, her husband’s movements came to a punishing stop.

  “Nooooo—-”

  “Then swear it,” he gritted out.

  “I swear—-” As soon as she cried the words out, Luca pounded back into her, the force of his thrusts beautifully savage, and she screamed. He pounded into her over and over, and oh, how she loved it, craved for it, her body tightening more and more with every forceful plunge until the pressure inside of her burst.

  Vivian came with a cry, and the Italian billionaire followed soon after, his back arching as he hoarsely gritted out her name.

  She clung to him, wave after wave of ecstasy beating over their bodies, their orgasm lasting so long that by the time the pleasure started to ebb, even Luca was without breath while Vivian didn’t even have enough strength to open her eyes.

  When he swept her up in his arms, she could only lay her head against his chest in utter exhaustion. He took her to the tub for a quick soak, and when he was done cleaning her, Vivian rubbed her head against the wall of his chest, curling up in his lap like a kitten.

  Luca began to speak in a soft, accented murmur, the sound lulling her into sleep.

  “I am always supportive of the decisions you make, cara. I hope you know that. But I must at least express my reservations about the course you’ve enrolled in. Are you truly sure business management is what you’d like to take up?”

  Silence.

  “I am not saying it’s impossible. You’re strong, smart, and hardworking. I believe you can accomplish whatever you want, but cara, it is ideal that you take up what you are most passionate about. So is this truly what you want?”

  When his wife still didn’t answer, he looked down, and the billionaire’s lips slowly curved at the sight of his sleeping wife.

  Ah.

  It was yet another first, to have a woman sleep on him after sex.

  When they were back in bed, both of them still naked but dry, he gently pulled the covers over them before taking his sleeping wife into his arms. Staring at her, he could only think of one thing.

  Ti amo, cara.

  When his ex-wife had left him, the billionaire had thought that he would never love again. He had decided then that his baby girl Eula would be the only reason for his existence, and he had thought that would be enough.

  He had thought he could play it safe for the rest of his life...until Vivian chatted her way into his heart.

  He remembered the way Vivian had mistaken him for an ordinary pencil pusher the first day they met, and his lips curved. She had the most beautiful smile and her sunny nature had drawn him in like bee to honey.

  Her love made him invincible, but if she ever left him—-

  Luca gently pressed his lips to the bare slope of her shoulder.

  Ti amo, Vivi.

  If only he could lock her in a tower that he alone had the key to.

  If only he could possess every second of her time.

  If only.

  But because he loved and trusted her, he fought to crush all such urges every day of his life.

  The billionaire had already doubted her once, and he had almost lost Vivian because of it.

  He would not make the same mistake again.

  Chapter Two

  Two weeks later

  “Congratulations on your first week back in university!” The words came from Saffi March-Aehrenthal, a petite blonde whose brother was friends with Luca.

  Vivian's cheeks turned pink when the older woman presented her with a beautifully wrapped gift. “Thank you, Fari. But you really didn’t have to—-”

  “Relax. I didn't get you anything extravagant, I swear." Saffi even crossed her fingers for her friend's benefit, knowing how uncomfortable Vivi still was when it came to any displays of wealth. "It's just a little something that reminded you of me when Staffan and I were at St. Valentine."

  “Tell me more about your trip,” Vivian invited eagerly. Saffi and her husband Staffan Aehrenthal were pretty much the definition of relationship goals, and she loved hearing every little thing about their fairytale romance. Staffan was Sweden's #1 sex god, a famous rockstar who was also part of The Pussketeers, a term that the media had coined back in the day when Staffan and his two other billionaire friends had also been infamous playboys.

  Saffi, on the other hand, had been Staffan's fangirl since she was in her teens, and in the early days of their relationship, she had deliberately hidden her illustrious background to work for Staffan.

  "It was Staffan's birthday surprise." Saffi's eyes glowed every time she mentioned her husband's name. "He told me he wouldn't be able to accompany me because of business, but when I arrived at the airport, well—-" Saffi sighed. "There he was, and it was one of the dreamiest days of my life."

  "That's so sweet!" Vivian was sincerely thrilled for her friend, but at the back of her mind, she couldn’t help wondering if St. Francis would have accepted her if she had been a little more like Saffi.

  Unlike her, the older woman had all the right connections, and she also had a genius IQ to boot.

  Maybe if she were as accomplished as Saffi, Vivian pondered glumly, fewer people would question Luca’s decision to marry her.

  Vivian’s thoughts were interrupted when the restaurant’s redheaded receptionist, Coral, stepped forward, saying, “Your room’s ready, Mrs. Valencia. This way, please.”

  As Coral led the way for the two billionaire’s wives, the receptionist made every effort to entertain her most important guests. She described the restaurant’s Art Nouveau interior in great detail, and when they reached the function room Coral quickly summoned waiting attendants to pull out chairs for their guests.

  “A special menu has been prepared by the chef, Mrs. Valencia, Mrs. Aehrenthal, and we’ll be serving it in ten minutes.” Coral then added with a wink, “If there’s anything else you’d like, please just let me know.” Her two VIPs nodded and smiled, and Coral thought appreciatively, How wonderfully discreet.

  She winked one last time at her guests, saying meaningfully, “Anything and everything, just let me know.”

  Vivian waited for the door to the private function room they had reserved before glancing at Saffi in completely bafflement. “W-what was that about?”

  “You’ll get used to it,” Saffi sighed. “She was basically offering us special services, the kind that’s not on the menu.”

  Vivian still couldn’t get it. “What kind of special service?”

  “Dru
gs, male escorts—-”

  Vivian’s jaw dropped.

  “Basically anything and everything we’d like and be willing to pay for,” Saffi finished. “It’s all part of the package that comes with being married to men like Luca and Staffan, I'm afraid."

  “I s-see.” Or rather, Vivian should see and understand that these offers would indeed be a normal part of her life for as long as she was married to Luca – but she didn’t. Over half a year had already passed since she married Luca, and yet the feeling that she wasn’t suitable to be his wife still hadn’t completely left her.

  And maybe it never would, she worried uneasily.

  “Is everything okay, Viv?” Saffi asked, noticing the look of dismay that had crossed her friend’s face.

  “I was just thinking I wish I could be more like you,” Vivian confessed.

  Saffi made a face. “Is this about the St. Francis thing?” At her friend’s nod, she said firmly, “You should stop wasting your time and emotions on that issue. It’s made you think too little of yourself—-”

  “But maybe they’re right, you know? I’m literally nothing compared to Luca. If I were more like you—-”

  The door to the function room opened, servers walking back in with their appetizers and both Saffi and Vivian automatically avoided speaking of anything too personal in nature. Even so, the rest of the meal was enjoyable as the two caught up with each other’s lives.

  When they walked out of the restaurant’s function room, still laughing and chatting, the other patrons marveled at the sight, thinking that it was rare for two beautiful and wealthy women to get along so well.

  While waiting for their rides outside the restaurant, paparazzi swarmed towards them, eagerly taking photos even as they shouted one intrusive question after another.

  How was it being married to a billionaire? A sex god?

  Was it true that Italian men and rockstars were like insatiable wild stallions in the bedroom?

  What would they do if the rumors about their husbands having mistresses were true?

  “Have you heard, Mrs. Valencia? Your husband’s been seen playing hooky with his ex-wife.”

  When Vivian paled, Saffi hurriedly said under her breath, “They’re lying, Viv. This is what they do for a living, and they’re just baiting you to give them something juicy for tonight’s news.”

  Vivian managed a smile. “I know.”

  Saffi's chauffeur-driven limousine arrived first, but the other woman hesitated to leave, seeing her friend’s still-troubled expression. “Are you sure you’ll be okay, Viv?”

  “Yep,” she said brightly. Too brightly, Vivian thought with an inner wince, seeing Saffi frown. “Seriously, Saf, don’t worry about me.” She kissed her friend on the cheek goodbye, and a minute later, her own ride came up, and a helpless smile curved over her lips as Vivian recalled how she ended up with a chauffeur-driven Rolls Royce.

  When Luca had explicitly forbidden her to use any mode of public transportation for her daily commute to university, she had pleaded with her husband to at least let her use his most “ordinary” car, all in hopes of reducing unwanted attention from the other students.

  Luca had acquiesced, and the next day, she had found herself staring at his Rolls Royce, which her husband had considered commonplace since it was his oldest car.

  Her husband might be one of the smartest men in the world, Vivian thought in amusement, but there were just some things he was completely clueless about.

  “Shall we go straight to the university, Mrs. Valencia?” the driver asked as he got behind the wheel.

  “Yes, please.” As she leaned back against the seat, the thought that she had forgotten something nagged at her. She tried to remember what it was, but nothing came to her and she was forced to set the thought aside by the time she reached the university.

  In Vivian’s quest to be an ideal wife, she had decided to take up a business course, and so far—-

  She hated every minute of it, Vivian acknowledged with an inner grimace as she entered the classroom.

  Talks about profit margins bored her and the mechanics for conducting SWOT analyses confused her. But even so, Vivian was determined to see this to the end. Come hell or high water, she would be the kind of wife that her billionaire would be proud of.

  “You made it to TMZ again,” Kay Norton sang out gleefully as Vivian claimed the seat beside her. A perky twenty-year-old sorority blonde, Kay was the only girl in university who seemed indifferent to Vivian’s instant notoriety as a billionaire’s wife.

  “And how cool is that?” Kay’s boyfriend Donald appeared at Vivian’s other side and threw a casual arm around her shoulders. “Gossip blogs are how you measure where you are on the list, you know?”

  “Riiiiight.” She did her best to laugh at Donald’s quip while casually shrugging his arm off. Kay’s boyfriend was every inch the quintessential quarterback: tall, muscular, good-looking, and possessing an overabundance of ego.

  When Donald tried to put an arm around her shoulder again, she jumped to her feet, unable to bear his touchy-feely attitude. “I, err, need to go out for a minute.” Maybe most other girls thought nothing about Donald’s actions, but every time they came into contact her skin crawled.

  “I’ll sign your attendance for you,” Kay called after her as she walked away.

  “Thanks, Kay.” She flashed her friend an awkward smile over her shoulder, thinking that Kay deserved better than an excessive flirt as a boyfriend.

  Inside the restroom, Vivian turned the tap on and splashed cold water on her face. When she was done, she caught her reflection on the mirror, and only one question came to mind.

  What am I doing here?

  Vivian hurriedly shook the thought away.

  Of course she knew what she was doing here.

  She was going to be the kind of wife that no other charity board would turn down, the kind of wife that Luca would have every reason to be proud of.

  She scowled at her reflection. “Got that?”

  Turning away, she left the restroom, and the thought that she had forgotten something once again nagged at her.

  Vivian’s brows furrowed as she tried to recall what it was.

  Could it be something Luca had asked her to do? Nope.

  Could it be something she had promised Maggie, her friend and former roommate? Nope.

  Could it be—-

  Vivian stopped dead in her tracks.

  Eula!

  Oh my God, Eula!

  Chapter Three

  “Did you have fun playing the princess?” Luca asked as he shampooed his daughter’s hair.

  “It was easy.” Eula’s voice was matter-of-fact. “Because I’m really a princess.”

  He laughed. “And so you are.” Lack of self-esteem was definitely not something his princess suffered from. After rinsing her hair, Luca allowed his daughter to spend a few more minutes playing in her pink marble tub while he went back to her bedroom to fetch a change of clothes.

  “Do you want the pink princess pajamas or the Sponge Bob thing with a skirt?” he called out as he pushed the sliding doors of her walk-in closet open.

  “Pink princess pajamas,” his daughter yelled back from the bathroom.

  Luca shook his head in wry amusement, thinking that it was a miracle he had been able to raise Eula to be girly despite lacking any significant feminine influence in her life. Luca’s own mother tried her best of course, but there was only so much she could do when she lived in a different continent from her granddaughter.

  Since it was still pretty early in the evening, Luca gave his permission for Eula to play games on her iPad while he took out her textbooks to see if there were any homework or lessons they had to work on.

  It was at this moment that the door to Eula’s bedroom burst open, and father and daughter looked up.

  Vivian stood framed by the doorway, her dark hair a messy riot of waves around her face. She had a frantic look on her face and she was panting loudly, like she
had run all the way home.

  “Vivi,” Eula exclaimed excitedly upon the sight of her stepmother.

  The Italian billionaire’s lips curved in a warm smile. “Welcome home, cara. Did you miss us?”

  “Yes.” And as soon as his wife choked the word out, she promptly burst into tears.

  IT WAS ALREADY TEN in the evening by the time Luca stepped out of his office at home, and upon reaching the second floor he was surprised to still hear his wife’s soothing voice, reading a bedtime story.

  When he made it to Eula’s room, he saw his daughter snuggled up next to Vivian, fast asleep. Upon meeting his gaze, Vivian signaled to him to keep quiet even as she continued with the story.

  “And so the princess lived happily ever after with the king and queen, happy and secure in the knowledge that a new adventure awaited her.” Vivian closed the book and whispered, “The End.” She placed a kiss on the top of Eula’s head before gently and carefully easing herself out of the little girl’s bed.

  Upon reaching her husband, Vivian almost let out a shriek when Luca suddenly swept her up in his arms. “Hold on to me,” he whispered into her ear, and she obliged, arms and legs tightening around him, as Luca pulled the door shut.

  Out in the hallway, he pushed her against the wall and crushed her mouth under his without warning. Vivian kissed him back eagerly, her body easily turned on like it always was.

  When the billionaire lifted his head, she moaned softly in protest, the sound making his lips curve in amusement. “Does that mean you want more?” he teased under his breath.

  Her eyes flew wide open at Luca’s words, and her cheeks flushed pink at the way his startlingly blue eyes gleamed down at her.

  “Ah, cara. Whatever happened to your promise to be less, err—-” A thoughtful look crossed Luca’s handsome face. “What was that word you made up again? Blushable?”

  Oh, fudge. “Stop reminding me of that,” Vivian cried out.

  Chuckling at the way his wife had turned even redder, he stole a quick hard kiss from her lips before carrying her down the stairs. Seeing her bemused look, he asked wickedly, “Disappointed?”

 

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