by Marian Tee
The billionaire’s face remained expressionless.
A smile tugged at her lips, and she sighed, “Oh, Christien.” And she cupped his face.
He stiffened, and he said warningly, “Kharis---”
But she still ended up doing it.
She pinched his cheeks.
A grim expression fell over Christien’s face. “Stop it.”
“I want to,” she said very earnestly. “But I can’t.” And so she pinched him again.
“Kharis.”
Another pinch.
“Do it another time, and you won’t see me for the rest of the year.”
Her hands flew away from his face. “Spoilsport.” But she ruined this with a giggle. “I still can’t believe you flew here just for that.”
“You and me both,” he muttered under his breath. “So can we just drop it?”
As he joined her in bed and pulled Kharis close, her back against his chest, he heard her murmur his name.
“What is it this time?” he asked with an exasperated sigh.
“You really love me, don’t you?” Before he could answer, he felt her reach for his hand. A moment later, and she had brought it to her lips, and the billionaire stiffened as he felt the softest kiss brush against his knuckles.
“Love you, Christien.”
He didn’t answer, and Kharis didn’t seem inclined to wait for one. Only a few minutes had passed when he felt her breathing slow down, and when he carefully pulled away to look at her, he saw that Kharis was already fast asleep.
Her words echoed in his mind, and they were…beautiful. But they were also terrifying. Impossible. They were words that he knew he couldn’t – shouldn’t – always answer with silence. Sooner or later, the day would come that she would need him to speak.
And when it did – what then?
The question left the billionaire wide-awake for the rest of the night, and when dawn broke, he took every care not to wake Kharis as he slipped out of her bed. He left the house for a walk, but it did nothing to put his mind at rest.
When he came back, the rest of the household was up, but no one even blinked an eye at his sudden presence.
“Good morning, sir,” Mrs. Grant greeted him pleasantly. “Will you be joining us for breakfast?”
“If you have space for one more?”
“Of course, sir. It will be ready in half an hour.”
Walking into the dining room, he saw that Kharis’ grandfather was also up, and the old man didn’t seem surprised at all to see him. “Mr. Di Luca, good morning.”
Christien mentally winced at Paul’s formal tone. It had been seven months since he and Kharis started going out, but the older man had yet to warm up to him.
“Good morning, sir.”
“May I have a word with you in private?”
“Of course.”
Paul headed to the library, and Christien followed a few steps behind him out of respect of the older man’s seniority. When they were inside, the billionaire waited for Paul to take a seat before doing the same and opted for the couch rather than the other armchair.
When he turned to face Paul again, Kharis’ grandfather gave him a rather stiff smile. “You need not bother with the pretenses. I’m not the lord of this house, and it doesn’t bother me that it’s so. However---” The older man’s tone became forbidding. “I am concerned about Kharis, and that’s what I wish to speak with you about.”
Paul waited for a moment, allowing the billionaire to speak, but when nothing seemed forthcoming, Kharis’ grandfather went on to finish the rest of what he had to say.
“I’m certain you’re aware that Angel Falls is a small town, Mr. di Luca.”
Realizing where the conversation was heading, the billionaire said evenly, “People always talk, regardless of the place.”
“That may be true,” Paul retorted, “but people don’t just talk about anyone. There’s always a reason behind such talk---” The older man’s eyes became cold. “And in this case, you’re the reason why people are talking about my granddaughter. Everyone thinks she’s your mistress---”
“She’s not,” he said fiercely.
“And yet it’s your name listed for ownership of this house, your name on the checks that pay her schooling, your name she utters when people ask her about our gardening business---”
“If I say she’s not my mistress,” the billionaire cut in a steely voice, “then she’s not. And I have kept my word---”
The older man dealt him an unimpressed look. “That she remains innocent is a credit to your control, but it doesn’t change the facts. She is a mistress if you’re keeping her a secret---”
“What would you have me do,” Christien demanded in an explosive mutter. “Kharis is only seventeen. The press will tear her apart if they find out about her---”
“Fine then.” Paul’s tone was cold. “Let’s wait until she turns eighteen. Will things change then? Will she no longer be your secret?”
The billionaire didn’t answer.
“You may not want to think of her as your mistress, but that is what you made her to be.” The older man slowly came to his feet. “You owe my granddaughter the truth, Mr. di Luca, and I’m counting on you to tell her.”
The billionaire also stood up, but Paul remained unflinching even as the other man’s height allowed him to loom over Kharis’ grandfather.
“I have never thought of Kharis as my mistress.” Christien’s tone was fierce. He expected the older man to reject his words, but instead Kharis’ grandfather simply nodded.
“Strangely enough, I do believe you. But it doesn’t change how things have turned out.” The older man’s tone marginally softened. “I’m not completely blind, Mr. di Luca. I do see what made my granddaughter like you, and I hope you know I’m not talking about your wealth or even your looks.”
The billionaire didn’t answer, thinking that Paul Stamos was wrong. If they weren’t talking about his wealth – then what else did he have to offer to Kharis?
Kharis’ grandfather sighed. “You don’t like yourself much, do you, Mr. di Luca?”
“No.” Christien’s tone was matter-of-fact. “I don’t.”
“I suppose that’s why you’re still unable to make up your mind about my granddaughter.” Paul sighed again. “I don’t know why you’re being so hard on yourself, but you should at least know I’ve always seen you as a man of honor. And it’s that honor of yours I’m counting on that will ensure you don’t disappoint either of us – least of all Kharis. You have until her eighteenth birthday to make a decision, Mr. di Luca. Tell her the truth. Make up your mind about her. But if you can’t do that…then leave my granddaughter alone before you hurt her even more.”
Chapter 12
Snow continued to fall as Christien stepped out of his newest club and hit the streets of New York City, hands shoved into the pockets of his coat. A gray turtleneck and maroon-colored pants completed his outfit, and coupled with his blond good looks and powerful build, the billionaire effortlessly drew looks wherever he went.
All of the women he walked past stared at him with blatant interest, hoping to catch his eye. But none of them did, just as none of them dared to approach the billionaire. The air of aloofness surrounding him was unassailable, and to say that he seemed to be in a bad mood would have been an understatement.
He couldn’t remember the last time he had drawn pleasure from anything, couldn’t remember the last time he had even felt like smiling. It had been so ever since he had started avoiding her.
When his phone buzzed in his coat’s pocket, he swiftly pulled it out, his heart beating hard. Of course, the irony wasn’t lost on him. It used to be that he had been the one dodging her calls, and yet now---
His day was no longer complete until he heard from her.
An acute sense of relief gripped his chest when he saw Kharis’ name on the screen, and he quickly moved to the edge of the sidewalk and took cover from the snow under the awning of a medium-siz
ed deli. He clicked on her message, and the moment her words appeared, the rest of the world faded. Even with the endless number of people streaming past the billionaire, their chatter adding to the noise of honking horns and yelling cab drivers – he saw nothing, heard nothing.
She was all that mattered.
Kharis: Hi! Are you busy?
Christien: Just out for a stroll. My meeting finished earlier than I expected.
His fingers hesitated before pressing Send. It used to be that he would finish his message with another question, not just because it was polite, but because he had genuinely wanted to know more about her and her day.
But that was then.
That was when he still thought he had the right to keep her in his life.
But it was different now, and after a moment, the billionaire sent the message without editing his words.
And then he waited.
It was the only thing he allowed himself to do these days.
He waited for her to call, waited for her to stop calling. He waited for her to ask questions, waited for her to break things off. He waited for what he both dreaded and wished because that was what knowing Kharis had turned him into.
His phone buzzed again, and he breathed hard.
She hadn’t given up on him then. She should’ve a long time ago, but she hadn’t yet. She hadn’t…and so he had another day to pretend.
Kharis: Where exactly are you strolling?
Christien: NYC.
Kharis: I see.
The billionaire’s jaw tightened. Please don’t fucking ask it. Please have some fucking pride.
Kharis: Maybe you can drive up to CT when you’re done?
Christien’s eyes closed. Kharis might just be seventeen, but she was no idiot. She would’ve been able to read the signs, and he hadn’t exactly been subtle about any of them. He no longer called her first, no longer mentioned anything about visiting her again – he no longer did anything that would tell Kharis he still wanted to be with her.
Kharis: I miss you.
Christien: I miss you, too.
Kharis: I don’t want to hear that.
Christien: Why the hell not?
Kharis: Because it used to be when I said I miss you, you’d come flying to me.
Kharis: And you don’t anymore.
Christien’s fingers tightened around his phone. If only she knew. If only she goddamn knew how much he wanted to see her. Hold her. Kiss her. But those were the things he wanted.
Kharis: I miss you.
His lips twisted as he read between the lines, knowing she might as well have typed something like, I’m giving you a second chance. Come here, now, please.
Sly, beautiful, foolish mutant.
What she wanted, he wanted, too – but he also knew that wanting wasn’t enough. It had to be the right thing to do, too, and that was the fucking problem here. He had never been confused about the difference between right and wrong…until now. His heart had never doubted what his mind decided was best…until now. He had always trusted himself to do what was expected…until now.
His eyes wanted to feast on the sight of Kharis. His mouth hungered for a taste of her, his hands craved the feel of her. His heart demanded to beat for her. Every part of his body desired to be hers…except for his mind.
His mind couldn’t forget Paul Stamos’ words, couldn’t bear the thought that he would destroy her without knowing. His mind told him to leave even as his empty heart demanded he stay.
Kharis: Christien?
Christien: I’m here.
Kharis: I really miss you.
Christien: I really miss you, too.
And he knew, just with those words, he might as well have said goodbye to her.
The last week of January rolled in with a blizzard that rendered most of the roads impassable, and along with it came the impending arrival of Kharis’ eighteenth birthday. She had been texting him nonstop about it, was adamant about not taking no for an answer despite all of his polite excuses.
Kharis: I’m not throwing a huge party or anything. I just want to be with you.
Christien: You should throw a party. You’re only eighteen once.
Kharis: I know, and I want to turn eighteen in your arms.
Christien: I can’t promise anything.
Kharis: Then don’t. Just be here.
“You alright?” Nick Christakos joined Christien in the smoking lounge, which was empty save for a couple making out in the corner. Dark-haired and blue-eyed, the Greek billionaire had recently broken the hearts of his thousands of fans when he recently made his relationship with Lilac York official.
Dropping his phone back in his jacket’s pocket, Christien turned to his friend, asking dismissively, “Why shouldn’t I be?” Tonight’s special event was another success, everyone was having fun, and he was making himself another small fortune because of it. What was there not to be happy about?
“I didn’t realize you’ve started smoking.” Nick’s tone was careful.
“I haven’t.” Christien’s tone was casual. “But I’ve been contemplating it.”
“Nothing against it,” Nick drawled, “but I don’t think it’s an effective remedy for what’s ailing you.” He saw his friend’s expression cool and sighed. “We know you too well, okay? So stop trying to hide that something’s fucking wrong.”
“Nothing’s fucking wrong.”
Christien’s tone was as icy as his expression now, but it only had Nick shaking his head in exasperation. “You’ve helped me with a lot of things, Christien. At least let me return the favor, even if it’s just to tell you you’re an idiot.”
Christien flipped him the finger, but this only had his friend grinning. “Do you know that’s probably the first genuine emotion you’ve shown in God knows how long?”
“Never realized you were prone to exaggerate,” Christien mocked.
“I’m not.” Nick’s smile didn’t reach his eyes, and silence fell between them. He waited for his friend to speak but when several moments passed with only Christien continuing to look at him with an impassive expression, Nick thought, fuck it.
Maybe he was being a meddling son of a bitch, but if that was what would keep his friend alive, then so fucking be it.
He said finally, “You haven’t been flying as much to Connecticut these days.”
Christien flashed a sardonic smile. “What’s this? You’re not satisfied playing my nanny, so you’ve resorted to stalking as well?”
But Nick simply went on like he didn’t hear Christien speak. “Did she break up with you?”
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
“Is her age still bothering you? Is that it?”
“Fuck this. I’m out of here.” Christien turned away to leave.
“Did you find out she’s not what you think she is?” Nick persisted in asking. “Maybe she’s nothing but a gold-digger---”
In less than a moment, Christien had whirled around and slammed Nick against the wall, and the crashing sound had the couple kissing in the corner yelping and scrambling to leave.
“Don’t you fucking say anything like that about her,” Christien snarled. “You don’t know her the way I do. She’s not just some girl---”
“Isn’t she?” Nick challenged. “Because you’re not acting like it. You’re her fucking boyfriend, di Luca, and you haven’t been to see her for months, have you?”
Christien whitened. “I don’t have any choice.” He stepped back and let the other man go.
Still leaning against the wall, Nick shook his head at his friend. “That’s bullshit and you know it. You always have a choice. So why don’t you just admit it?”
Christien’s fists clenched. “I’m warning you, Christakos.”
“The way you’re treating her means she’s nothing. You don’t give a damn if you break that girl’s heart---”
“She’s the only girl that matters,” Christien exploded.
“Then why aren’t you with her?”
“Because I don’t know if I can ever love her the way I want to,” Christien roared. “I don’t fucking know.” He slammed his fist into the wall in impotent rage, and his knuckles immediately started to bleed. “I don’t fucking know.” And he struck the wall again, the emptiness in his heart making him numb to the pain. “And I can’t ever fucking know.”
“Christien---” The other man shook his head, and Nick’s lips compressed as Christien slowly turned away from the wall and seated himself on one of the empty recliners.
Elbows on his knees, Christien stared down at the floor sightlessly, his friend’s words repeating in his head like inescapable echoes of his guilt.
The way you’re treating her means she’s nothing.
You don’t give a damn if you break that girl’s heart.
Bleakness made his throat tighten, and Christien swallowed hard.
“It was different when I only needed her to be the one I’m looking for. I didn’t care about hurting her. I was actually fucking confident I wouldn’t hurt her because I had been pretending to be someone else all my life. So why not pretend to be the kind of man she wants? But then things started to change. I started caring for her. I started wanting her to be that person – and that was when I knew I had to stay away.”
Christien leaned back and ran a weary hand over his face as his eyes closed.
“I can’t risk being wrong about her, Nick. Because if I’m wrong, the way I’m hurting her now will be nothing to how I’d hurt her then---” He inhaled harshly. “I can’t let her love me, knowing that I can still want to kill myself.”
Nick’s chest heaved at the despair that enveloped his friend. All of Christien’s words made sense. They always did, but then…that was the problem in the first place. The plane crash that had taken away Christien di Luca’s parents hadn’t just left Nick’s friend orphaned. It had also damaged him, making Christien’s brain incapable of processing emotions the way normal people did.