“Let’s welcome your guests.”
“Thank you, Alex, for everything.”
“I’m here. I will always be here for you.”
As I step downstairs, I count one step after another until a vast open space of black masks, crystal chandeliers, and high-end black furniture greets me.
DAMIEN
My plan of sating my curiosity from afar just got screwed up. I didn’t even want to come, but some sort of sick interest made me take the jet and fly here for her birthday party.
I remembered her words from a year ago—that she’d celebrate her birthday again when it was worth celebrating.
Something didn’t seem right.
She’d stopped having big birthday parties seven years ago, opting for family only dinners.
So why now? And why “Oblivion”?
My inability to come up with an acceptable answer made me leave the comfort of my home back in London for this peculiar event. I’m sure I’m a masochist! Who would have cared in my place? No sane person, I’m sure. But here I am, even after everything that’s happened. I still recoil at the memories. Seven years ago, I found the love of my life, my best friend, my soul mate, my future wife in bed with someone else. On that fateful day, something died in me—my heart.
I lost her and became a ruthless entrepreneur, transforming the family business into a Forbes top one hundred company. I am thriving, valued, respected . . . but empty. I buried myself and my feelings under piles of reports and work. She is my only weakness—my love and my hate for her combined into one hacked heart.
While I am eavesdropping, my heart hammers inside my chest and I grip my neck with both hands. My head throbs and pain shrouds my vision. She ruined me then, and she’s succeeded in destroying me again now.
That bastard always beside her, the one I thought she replaced me with, is not her lover. No. He is someone much more important—her fucking lifeguard—and she said goodbye to him. What does that even mean?
Witnessing them together, it takes everything in me to squish the anger and jealousy as a stupid and sick part of me still sees her as mine. This is how badly she ruined me. Not only have I played my role well, but so has Bria. For years we’ve fooled each other so damn well.
My ears pick up at their approaching steps. I feel her in my vicinity. Her unique flowery and sensual scent draws me in. My heart pounds, a wild staccato is expanding in my chest as my shirt uncomfortably stretches. I duck and hide behind the doors leading to the other corridor. For a few seconds, my body freezes, but then I exhale, relieved as I watch them pass by the elevator and trudge down the stairs instead. When their steps morph into a distant sound, I choke on my misery. I’m a twenty-seven-year-old man reduced to hiding, but I have to pull myself together because, for the next few hours, I will be her shadow.
“Let the show begin . . .” I challenge myself as my steps spring into action.
BRIA
Reaching the last stair, I lift my gaze and take in the ample ballroom. Expansive windows offer the perfect view of the lake, and dim lights from the high crystal chandeliers enhance the dark floors and black leather couches. The highlight though, is the shiny black bar brimming with extravagant liquors. I spot some guests either seeking the perfect place to oversee everything or at the bar already indulging.
I set myself out to greet my guests, but before I can, someone twirls me around and wraps his arms around my back. The tension in my muscles defuses when I realize it’s Quinn, the man I’ll never have the means to show how thankful I am for everything he’s done for me.
I crane my neck to catch the brightest smile possible as his arched lips gape to show a perfect set of white teeth. Like father, like son. In his early sixties, the man still looks like time has been his best friend. Only four people know how ill he’s been—him, his doctor, Alex, and me. But his heart still pumps—a miracle like me. His light caramel eyes framed by wrinkles of both sad and happy times show pure and unconditional love.
“Sweetie, you look so beautiful, although I don’t think I like the fact you hide behind that mask.”
I bask in the familiar mix of earthy scent and home. My eyes rise and take in his frame, starting with his short silver and soft hair, round cheeks, to the lean body covered in an impeccable black suit—his trademark attire. But comfort never lasts as I clasp my hands together and nudge myself to ask, “Is everything going according to plan? Is all settled?”
His smile falters, his posture stiffens, and sadness clouds his features. “I will do anything for you, although it breaks my heart.” He pauses as if waiting for me to change my mind, but I remain silent, and he adds, “I have supported you from the beginning and will do so until the end.”
“No one will ever be able to discover my location, not even Alex. Promise me.”
“I promise, but he will search for you.”
“He will. Of course, he’ll search. I mean, he is as stubborn as you are. But I hope he will find love and forget about me.”
“Then you don’t know him at all.” His voice drops a level to chastise me with the wisdom I’ve yet to reach.
We stand in uncomfortable silence when my brother, Filip, approaches and kisses me on my left cheek. It’s odd because now we are two strangers, and it’s my fault. We used to have an amazing bond, but it broke like everything else a long time ago, leaving behind just a trace of remorse for everything that went wrong.
“Happy birthday, sis. You’re getting older,” he says, hoping to make me laugh.
It doesn’t work, though. Nothing does.
“Haven’t forgotten that you are the younger one,” I retort, pretending for an easiness that ceases to exist.
“And also the better-looking, charming one.”
I tilt my head to him and twist my lips into something resembling a smile. “I wouldn’t dream of competing with you.” And then, as always, a nauseating silence follows because that’s all we’ve got except for work.
A sigh later, he adds, “Okay, I’ll go grab a drink. I wonder about your speech, though.”
Oh, yes, the epic speech.
Before he steps away, I hug him letting myself inhale the mix of citrus, mossy notes, and my brother. He turns rock solid in my arms. I haven’t done this in over seven years. He exhales, and the pain behind his words envelops me as he places a chaste kiss on my head.
“If I could just turn back time.”
I shudder at the rawness peering from his warm brown eyes and his broken voice. I can’t utter a word. The knot in my throat threatens to strangle me. There’s only sadness and a wish which will always remain unfulfilled.
I cling to him as I say what I should have said a long time ago, “Filip, you couldn’t save my heart, but you helped to save my life. Stop feeling guilty. You have nothing to be sorry for. I let you down, and I let Mom and Dad and everyone else down too. I am the crippled one. Accept it and let it all go.”
“What are you talking about? We’re a family. This is what we do . . . stick together, fight together, and love until you find it in you to accept being loved again.”
He squeezes my shoulders as I lean my head to the side. I can’t face it anymore, the hope everyone keeps alive, that I will wake up and be the old me one day. Every time we meet, they seek in my eyes a glimpse of the sister and daughter they’ve lost. That’s why I have to leave, so they can let me go, accept it once and for all, and be free to focus on everything that has nothing to do with me being damaged goods.
“Filip . . .” I continue, “take care of yourself. Thank you for being the child Mom and Dad can love.”
“One child can never take the place of another one. When are you going to understand that?” he says before stepping away.
I hope he never loses the fire in him. So wise, my little brother. I’m proud of him. I hope he and Damien will finally be the team they used to be before I destroyed everything. Before my parents had to keep secrets from their best friends and partners regarding their broken daughter, and
before my brother built a wall between him and his best friend. Torn between blaming him for my downfall and then accusing me of betraying his best friend, he sides one time with him, the other with me.
“Miss du Mont, right?” a petite, young girl with warm brown eyes and a welcoming smile asks.
“That would be me.”
“My name is Mia. I’m in charge of tonight’s catering. At your service, Miss du Mont.”
“Thanks, Mia. I recognized you from the PowerPoint presentation for my party. Please call me Bria.”
I look around, and satisfaction rises from deep inside me with what I discover. There are orchids everywhere, hundreds of them. The colors of black and violet combined growing the intensity, secrecy, and glamour—it’s what I requested. The ballroom has the perfect décor for concealing my choice, its classic elegance blending with the modern era.
“You did a great job. I’ll tell Sarah how pleased I am with your service.”
Her eyes sparkle as she chirps, “Thank you so much, Bria. It means a lot.”
With a nod, I turn to greet my guests. I plaster a wide smile until my cheeks strain. These people used to represent something to me. I used to care and enjoy their company, and what is there to pick up now? Nothing.
No one ever peeks behind the mask or calls me a fraud. I wonder if everyone else is just indifferent, or am I that good at pretending?
My tour of greetings and small talk ends, and I clasp my hand around my wrist to ground me.
BRIA
As I dart to my reserved, private area, I spot my almost sister-in-law, Sophia, pushing herself off a couch, leaving her entourage at the table, her electric blue eyes boring into mine. A pang of something undefined strikes me. She strides toward me, and I imagine what might have been when your best friend becomes your sister-in-law. There was a time when we were all together and happy. She’d always pretended to throw up with the way Damien and I behaved and mocked our “relationship,” what she also called our cliché fairy tale love.
We are two families, du Mont and du Sky—Katherine and George du Mont having Filip and me, and Rebecca and Andrew du Sky and their children, Damien and Sophia. Our parents, the founders of M&S, a global supermarket chain, started with one grocery store thirty years ago, and now there are over nine thousand branches worldwide.
Damien is the CEO, my brother, the former head of the sales and marketing division, is now the COO. Sophia is the head of human resources, and I’m the chief of strategic and operational management as I declined the CBDO—chief business development officer—role earlier this year.
What’s the point anyway, as I won’t be around?
The irony of it all is I am in charge of establishing long-term and future developments for the company when I lack a future.
We were inseparable once, four kids playing in the company’s headquarters. From a young age, we became accustomed to the machinery called a retail company. Starting with bringing coffees and sorting paperwork to making decisions serving the greater goal of lasting over time. Best friends and family until a day when one stupid action led to a catastrophic consequence.
Even though no one would ever point the finger at me, we are all aware I am the source of the destruction. I broke Damien’s heart, and I let down my second set of parents and almost future in-laws. My best friend sided with her brother, and I could never hold it against her. We went from best friends to reluctant co-workers in the flick of a finger.
I am glad our parents are still best friends, and Filip and Sophia have kept their relationship intact—where one is, the other is not far. I guess their unity is their statement. Their answer to when chaos emerged and sank its ugly teeth into a blissful entity, severing it from whole to half. I expected Sophia to come tonight as we have to keep the illusion alive.
Our eyes clash in the middle. Her scrutiny has always dizzied me. Her heart-shaped, full glossy lips arch into a smile that seeks to be wholehearted but somehow fails as her pearly teeth remain hidden.
“Happy birthday, Bria!”
“Thank you!” I peer into her almond-shaped eyes, which are the lighter shade of her brother’s fierce blue. They look so alike, it’s uncanny. Every time I see her, it’s impossible not to reminisce about everything. Years of my life stare at me while I glance back, dumbfounded, at a porcelain facade. She flicks a straight, dark strand of her hair over her shoulder.
“Hmm, you always break the rules.”
“I didn’t want to interfere with our parents’ plans.”
Our parents are in southern France, in Nice, where they share a mansion and spend most of their holidays.
I was afraid they would recognize my plans and try to stop me, so I waited until they left before I mentioned my upcoming birthday. Telling them it seemed a good occasion to celebrate when you lived for a quarter of a century. Feeding on the lie of recovery, all four of them expressed their wish to be here for me to attend my special day.
I stopped their attempts by making a false promise, saying that my mother and Rebecca could organize my birthday party next year. My deceptive tactic worked, and they agreed.
“I would have gone on vacation too, but stayed here for your out of the blue birthday celebration and keeping an eye on Filip and Damien. Double work because Monica’s still in London.”
I hold my breath as Sophia’s eyes probe mine. I have one second to grasp my mask because my incapacitated heart jolted with a stroke of pain, rendering me immobile. But I’m a pro. Long ago, I accepted I am the past, and Monica is the future—Damien’s wife, sister-in-law to Sophia, and the second daughter of my almost in-laws. My cousin will have my life. I never thought she’d be the love of the man who holds my heart, the one who always told me I am his forever. Of all the women he’s paraded in front of me, he’s found love again in her arms.
There’s a never-ending sorrow circle I’m incapable of quitting when it comes to Damien. I ask myself how many times a broken heart can shatter.
No one, and I mean no one, should have to witness the love of their life marry someone else. I swallow the sob right back to the depths of my ill heart where it belongs. A few months from now, they should thank me for not attending their wedding because no one wants a guest to drop dead on their special day. Plus, I need no more reasons for Damien to hate me. I think I’ve already given him enough to last two lifetimes.
BRIA
When Damien and I were teenagers, we vowed we would always be together, the two of us, until the end of time. A meadow overseeing Lake Zürich was our special spot, the place where we would build our house someday. The place where we dreamed, kissed, and loved each other until we would fall asleep with the sun’s rays caressing our faces and the light breeze kissing our cheeks, entangled in the arms of the other.
I was sixteen and Damien eighteen the summer I asked him how he envisioned our future together.
His arms wrap around me, and he dips his head and kisses the shell of my ear. My name out of his mouth, a song, praise of my birth, and what I mean to him.
“So, my love wants to hear a story?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“What will you give me in return?” He teases me, his body propped on his elbow, his intense blue eyes boring into mine, setting every nerve ending of my body on fire.
“Hmm . . .” I say, taking all the time in the world. I tap my bottom lip as my eyes seek answers in the cloudless and sunny sky.
I cup his face and look into his vivid eyes. “Anything you want.”
His long finger traces a line from my cheek to my mouth, jaw, and neck until resting on my chest. His intensity scorches me, but I crave it even more.
“It’s always you I want, but it seems I can’t get enough. It’s never enough with you, B.” His voice cracks with vulnerability, and I slam my lips on his. I pour my whole heart into the kiss, trying to reassure him he would never be without me, and I would always be his.
“Bria, you’re my past, my present, and my future. My heart is yours. Since
I can remember, it has only been you. You’re my everything. You own me.” He plays with a strand of my hair, smiling as if he remembers something. “My parents asked me what I see when I look at you, and my answer was, ‘Life. My life.’”
His words undo me every time. How could I not love him this endlessly, this madly?
“And I will propose to you when you finish high school in two years because I can’t wait any longer. There’s this constant urge in me to make you mine in every possible way. Right here where we are, I will drop on my knees and ask if you will make me the happiest man in the world by marrying me.”
My heart soars with his declaration of love. I jump in his arms, kissing him the only way I know—like a crazed girl in love. And then I giggle because we can never be serious for long as I poke him in the ribs with my finger.
“Hey, that wasn’t a question. It was more like an affirmation,” I say, feigning irritation.
He tickles me before turning serious; his eyes penetrating my soul. “Would it matter?”
I bite my bottom lip in answer and shake my head. His entire attitude switches once again to self-assurance and control. He’s such a bastard, but he is my bastard, and I adore him.
“I will only marry the love of my life,” he says. “Plus, it’s not like you would say no, now, would you, baby?” And with a smirk, he lifts me to straddle him and lavishes my face with gentle kisses. That causes only one effect every time—an army of butterflies takes up residence in my belly, and then passionate, wild ones steal my breath away. He knows I’m his, and I don’t mind at all.
“Since you put it so damn romantically, I wouldn’t stand a chance.”
He grins, and I lock my arms around his neck, playing with the ends of his hair. Damien pecks the corners of my lips and melts my insides.
It’s one of my most treasured memories. We made love that day for the first time. It was real, sweet, and innocent. It’s how we sealed the deal for our future.
Shattered Love : A Billionaire Romance (Forever Us Book 1) Page 2