Limits of Destiny (Volume 1)

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Limits of Destiny (Volume 1) Page 6

by Sharlyn G. Branson


  “I don’t know… Isn’t everything moving too quickly?”

  “I’m begging you, Alexia. I want to spend more time with you. Whether we’re here in Zurich or in Dubai, what difference does that make? The important part is for us to be together. I’ll show you the hotel I’m having built at the moment. I’ve decided to book a suite in Burj Al Arab.”

  “Burj Al Arab? The seven-star hotel?” I asked, excited.

  “Yeah, you’ll like it very much.”

  I’d assumed when he went to Dubai, Alexander most likely stayed in one of the villas or apartments owned by his company. But the fact that he wanted to book a suite in the most exquisite and expensive hotel in Dubai because of me meant a lot to me.

  Should I accept?

  I stared into his deep eyes, which were staring back at me pleadingly, and couldn’t say no.

  “Can I trust you? After all, the United Arab Emirates are thousands of miles away from Switzerland, and I hardly know you.”

  He sensed a teasing tone in my voice and laughed. “Don’t you think it’s too late to consider that? You’ve already given yourself to me.”

  “How do I know you haven’t decided to tie me up and lock me somewhere so you could have me just for yourself?” I was pulling his leg.

  “Hmm… That sounds wonderful and so tempting.” He rubbed his chin, pretending to give serious thought to some devilish plan.

  I giggled and nudged his shoulder. He also laughed. “What?” he asked in mock surprise.

  “Don’t pretend you’re really thinking about it.”

  He raised his hands in surrender. “Okay then, I got a bit carried away,” he said, continuing to laugh. “It does sound tempting… but I won’t. I wouldn’t. Don’t worry.”

  “Well then, I’ll see if I can arrange it. I think I stand a pretty good chance since I’ve done a lot of overtime.”

  “Great.” He leaned over me and placed his soft lips on my shoulder.

  It felt amazing to know the multimillionaire Alexander Kraftberg wanted us to spend more time together. He wanted me… not someone else, but me… My soul was radiant with joy.

  * * *

  At half ten at night, I decided it was time to go home. We both had to get up early for work tomorrow, which was why I couldn’t delay my departure any longer, as much as I didn’t want to leave.

  Alexander took me home in the car, driven by his chauffeur. He saved my cell phone number in his iPhone and told me he’d call to arrange lunch. I thanked him for the wonderful day, we kissed, and then I went into my apartment.

  What a day…

  I had a schoolgirl crush on Alexander Kraftberg and was in seventh heaven.

  When I went to bed, I couldn’t fall asleep for a long time. I twisted and turned in the bed, thinking back on everything that had happened since I met Alexander. Even though he wasn’t with me, I clearly saw his beautiful blue eyes, his stunning smile. I felt his soft lips on mine, his warm hands on my body. I heard his voice and inhaled his sweet scent.

  I was curious if he was thinking about me as I did about him, if he was also having trouble falling asleep.

  Imagining I was lying in his powerful embrace, I finally fell asleep, losing myself in sweet dreams.

  * * *

  Next morning, I left for work at half past eight. My face was fixed in a permanent smile. I was excited about seeing the man—Alexander Kraftberg—who had unlocked and captured my heart, waking up the feeling I’d thought I would never experience—to fall in love.

  I allowed myself the indulgence of wearing a satin dress in pastel green, which was a little shorter than the outfits I normally wore at work, but I knew it was sexy and brought out the green in my eyes.

  My coworker Roberto Bottoni whistled appreciatively when he saw me. “Wow, Alexia! You look incredible today. Who’s the lucky guy?” He winked at me. His dark-brown eyes gleamed and his cheeky grin revealed his not-quite-straight teeth.

  Roberto was of an average height, a little over 5’10”, and had curly black hair. He placed a lot of importance on his personal appearance, which was why he regularly went to the gym and always wore designer suits. To me, he was a typical Italian, despite hailing from the Italian part of Switzerland—Ticino.

  “Roberto…”

  “Okay, okay, I get it—you don’t want to kiss and tell. Fuck… I’m so jealous of him,” he said, scratching his perfectly manicured beard.

  “Yes, I know you have a weakness for women,” I teased.

  “Not for women in general—for beautiful women,” he specified.

  I didn’t want him to ask me about Alexander, so I decided to steer the conversation toward yesterday’s party. “Speaking of women… Did you have a good time at the party yesterday?”

  “I let off some steam,” he said frankly and looked at me with a satisfied smile.

  His words left me dumbfounded.

  “This kind of talk isn’t appropriate at the workplace,” I said, feigning shock. “You should be ashamed of yourself!”

  Roberto and I knew each other very well, and he felt very comfortable talking to me about his love life. We trusted each other and had an implicit understanding that whatever we shared with each other wouldn’t be spread as gossip to anyone else.

  “And when are you going to see each other again?” I asked, curious.

  “We won’t. I don’t want to.”

  “So you used her for one… you know, and you’re no longer interested.” I shook my head in disapproval.

  “It’s your fault,” he blamed me, but I detected a playful tone in his voice.

  “Me? What do I have to do with this?”

  “What should I do if you don’t want me? And all other women pale in significance compared with you. It’s not my fault I can’t find anyone else like you.” He glanced at me facetiously.

  “But you don’t even know whether you’d really be into me. It might turn out I’m not your type in bed at all,” I said, trying to get a rise out of him.

  Roberto looked me up and down from head to toe, briefly pausing at my breasts. “I don’t believe that would be the case.”

  “Roberto!” I scolded him.

  He laughed heartily and lifted his hands in a not-guilty gesture. “At least give me the satisfaction of looking.”

  “I’m not for sale,” I cut him off.

  “Let’s go for a coffee,” he proposed.

  “I’d love to.”

  I left my bag in my locker and we went into the kitchen, which wasn’t too far from our workstations.

  “Alexia, with these legs and this body, you could kill a man.”

  I punched him lightly in the shoulder to signal my disapproval. “You know I’m not into older men, so there’s no danger of that.”

  He laughed loudly. “So I’m too old for you, at my ancient thirty-three years.”

  “I don’t think you’re dead just yet.” I also laughed and then continued. “Do you think my dress is too short for work? I want a truthful answer.” I looked at him quizzically.

  “No, don’t worry. It’s quite sexy but stylish and elegant at the same time.” He winked at me. “Everything looks sexy on you. There’s simply no way for you to avoid attention.”

  * * *

  The morning passed like a blur. We had a department meeting, at which I had to present the financial analysis I’d prepared. I was quite anxious about talking in front of all my colleagues, but the presentation went well on the whole. My boss, Tobias Brauner, was very satisfied, which was the most important part for me.

  He and I were walking along the corridor toward the elevator, talking about the topics that had to be discussed at the next meeting. He was forty-two years of age, with brown eyes, brown hair, and slight stubble. It was always a pleasure talking to him because I always learned a lot during our conversations. The depth of his knowledge showed he’d gained a lot of experience and worked many years in the bank.

  My phone rang, startling me. I thought it would be Alexander
, but it was Lily. Disappointed, I pressed the red decline button.

  I went back to my desk and immediately sent her a message. We arranged to meet at my place after work.

  The nearer it got to noon, the tenser I became in my wait for Alexander to call me, to hear his voice. The growing excitement was making me feel hot even though I was wearing a thin silk dress and the air-conditioner was on.

  It was almost two o’clock, but Alexander still hadn’t called. I felt an emptiness engulfing my heart. I felt used.

  What an idiot I am! How did I fool myself into thinking this multimillionaire could want more than one pleasant day and crazy sex with me? I was an open book to him, and he probably no longer has any interest in me.

  The sex we had, to put it mildly, was incredible, and I didn’t regret the opportunity to have such an enjoyable experience, to feel what it was like to make love to the person with whom you are in love. At the same time, I felt an agonizing pain, which was ripping my soul to shreds and left me gasping for air.

  “Alexia, have you been to lunch yet?” Roberto snapped me out of my thoughts with his question.

  “No,” I replied and turned to him. Our desks were joined together, which gave us a chance to talk frequently.

  “Let’s have lunch together, then. I’m swamped with work, but my stomach is rumbling.”

  “Okay, let’s do it. I’m starving too.” I logged out of the computer and stood.

  We went to my favorite Italian restaurant, Toscana, and ordered the vegetarian lasagna.

  7

  I couldn’t hold back my tears any longer by the time I drove home. Adele’s song “Someone Like You,” which was playing on the stereo, was only exacerbating the agony I felt. My heart had been smashed into tiny little pieces. And I knew it would be a long time before I could gather these pieces, put them back together, and go on with my life.

  Why did I let myself fall in love with the wrong man? Why? These thoughts raced around my mind. I’d yearned so intensely for this before, but now I felt so lonely. I’d been seduced, used, and abandoned.

  I barely managed to unlock the door to my apartment. I dropped my handbag to the floor and covered my face with my hands to suppress the tears. Then I went into the living room and put a recording of one of my mother’s concerts on the sound system. She was a famous violinist and had performed not just in the USA, but in Europe, Japan, and China. The tender sounds of her violin as she played Tomaso Albinoni’s “Adagio in G-Minor” filled the room. I wanted to be closer to her, and music was the only way. I threw myself on the couch and started to bawl like a small child, unable to stop.

  God, my broken heart hurts so much!

  Alexander wasn’t mine and he would never be. It had all been just one wonderful moment. The thought that we would never again be together was suffocating me. I wanted him. I wanted to feel his embrace once more, to breathe in the scent of his skin, to taste his kisses, to feel the touch of his warm hands, hear his soft voice, see his handsome face… I wanted him.

  I didn’t know his cell phone number, but even if I did, I wouldn’t call him. I still had some self-respect. He’d promised to call me, that we would have lunch together, but he hadn’t kept his promise. He’d lied to me, given me false hope, made me think something could happen between us.

  I cried so much that in the end, I had no tears left. I went into the bathroom and washed my face. My mascara had run and smeared all over.

  I decided to make something to eat in order to put him out of my mind.

  The doorbell rang. It was Lily. As soon as she saw me, she realized I’d been crying.

  She hugged me tightly right on the doorstep. “What happened, for God’s sake? Did Alexander hurt you?

  “We arranged to meet for lunch, but he never called me.” The tears started flowing down my cheeks again.

  “Oh, Alexia, I’m so sorry. I’d never thought this could happen to you. You can have anyone you want. How did you manage to fall in love with the most unsuitable man?”

  “I only want him, Lily, but he doesn’t want me anymore,” I sobbed and wiped the tears from my face with my palm.

  “What a moron. He doesn’t know what he’s missing. By the time he realizes, it will be too late. Come, dear, I brought French red wine, Perrin et Fils Les Cornuds. It will relax you.”

  The wine, with hints of red berries and cherries, was very nice. We got drunk, more than we ever had before, so Lily stayed over for the night.

  * * *

  In the morning, I gave her one of my dresses. I was eternally grateful to her, for she had stayed and not left me alone in that state.

  As people say, a friend in need is a friend indeed.

  I put on a classic black number to match the grief eating at me and went to work, arriving a little late. Roberto was already at his desk, looking at the computer screen and drinking a coffee.

  “Ciao, Bella.” He turned to me and froze. “Mamma mia. What’s happened to you, Alexia? You look awful; your eyes are bloodshot.”

  “Thanks, that’s so sweet,” I said sarcastically.

  “Sorry, I’m just worried about you. Can I help you somehow?”

  “Please, I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Okay… As you know, I suffer from dry eyes and use moisturizing drops. I bought these really good ones—in disposable packets and without any preservatives. Here, try them. Put a drop in each eye and voila—all better. Throw away whatever’s left.”

  “Thanks, Roberto.”

  “For you, always—you know that.” He winked at me, and I gave him a weak smile.

  I took the drops and went into the bathroom to put them in. I caught my reflection in the mirror—I looked terrible. My green eyes were staring back at me, tired and quite red, and my face was as white as a sheet. I put a drop in each eye and felt them working their magic straightaway. Their coolness brought me some relief.

  Thank God I was swamped with work and didn’t have the chance to constantly think about Alexander. I wasn’t in the mood to have lunch in the bank’s cafeteria or in some restaurant, so I decided to pop out quickly and buy a chicken doner kebab. My eyes stopped at two teenage girls who were looking at the free newspaper 20 Minutes and discussing it loudly.

  “See how cute he is and, ugh, that minger he’s with.”

  I smiled at their comments and decided to see who they meant. I felt faint when I saw the picture—Alexander Kraftberg with some dark-haired woman. She had her arm around him and was saying something to him. I read the comment below the photograph.

  Are they just friends or is there something more between multi-millionaire Alexander Kraftberg and Vanessa Gras?

  I dropped the newspaper into the nearest garbage can, as if it were too hot to handle. I sat on a bench in one of the side streets and put my hand on my chest—my heart beating so hard I thought it might explode.

  An old woman approached me. “Are you okay? Are you feeling faint? You’re very pale.”

  I stared into the distance, not really hearing her. Gradually, I came back to reality.

  “I’ll be okay.” I took out a small bottle of water from my handbag and took a few sips. “I feel much better now, thank you.”

  The woman smiled and went on her way. The picture had shattered any hope I had left.

  * * *

  No, Alexander, don’t! What are you doing?

  I woke up drenched in sweat, shivering all over, and realized I’d been crying in my sleep. I looked around, alarmed, until I established it had all been a nightmare, in which Alexander was passionately kissing the brunette from the photo and didn’t give a damn I was watching. It was six in the morning. I couldn’t get back to sleep, so I decided to take a bath. I turned on the tap, poured in some bubble bath, and left it to fill up. When it was ready, I slid in, lay down, and closed my eyes. The bubbles gently caressed my skin and the aroma of coconut and Hawaiian flowers gradually relaxed my mind.

  I decided to wear my red-violet silk dress. I liked strong
, bright colors because they somehow lifted my mood.

  I’ll look sexy to spite Alexander…

  I backcombed my hair slightly to give it volume and used hair spray to keep it in place. I put on my pearl earrings, then high-heeled black sandals, took my bag, and went down to the parking lot. I pondered whether I was too brightly dressed for a bank employee, but… who cared? The dress was stylish, sleeveless, above the knees, and not too tight around my waist—it fit perfectly.

  Over time, I’d learned to drive in high heels with ease. My car wasn’t just any old banger, but a red Audi TT with a white leather interior. I loved sports cars and high speeds. My father had come over from Boston especially to help me choose this car.

  When I got to work, Roberto hadn’t arrived yet. I logged into my computer and started to read the new emails. I left earlier the previous day, and quite a few emails had accumulated.

  “Alexia, it’s nice to see you looking better.”

  I’d focused on reading my emails so tightly that I hadn’t noticed Roberto had arrived. “Well, I feel much better too. Thanks.”

  “I’m glad to hear that,” he said while sitting on his chair.

  * * *

  At noon, I had lunch with Lily in the bank’s cafeteria. As always, it was full of my coworkers, but we managed to find two free seats.

  Lily was wearing an elegant black skirt, combined with a fine beige sleeveless blouse. We often got the chance to have lunch together, as she worked in Credit Suisse, which was very near to my work at UBS.

  “How are you?” she asked, concerned. Placing her elbows on the table, she cupped her chin in her hand.

  “Better. When is Marco coming?” I wanted to change the subject to avoid the tears, which were already welling up at the thought of Alexander.

  Her face brightened. “On Saturday. I’m really looking forward to seeing him again. Do you want to come with us for drinks?”

  My best friend, always looking out for me. Her concern warmed my soul.

  “No, Lily. I don’t want to be a third wheel. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be okay. I just need a little more time.”

  “You won’t get in the way, honest. And you’ll get to meet him.”

 

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