My Russian Beast: Standalone Billionaire Romance

by Marian Tee

  I was stunned speechless for a moment, and the professor appeared stunned as well. But he recovered far sooner than me, his still handsome face breaking into a smile as he got to his feet. “I heard you were back.” He moved forward, and I found myself thinking he was much taller than I remembered. And ridiculously good-looking, I couldn’t help noticing guiltily. And now I was beginning to remember just why I had hoped this man would be my first boyfriend. Fredericka Spears, you are one shallow woman!

  And then Julian suddenly bent to kiss my cheek, and I drew away, startled. “You look radiant,” the professor murmured with a smile, looking perfectly at ease. “Join me for a drink, please.”

  “I can’t drink coffee.” Shit. Why had I said that? I should have just said no.

  Julian grinned. “Then how about lemonade? Would that do?”

  I bit my lip, trying to think of a way to refuse him properly.

  “If you join me, I can tell you stories about Sergei Grachyov when I was mentoring him.”

  I brightened. “Yes, please.”

  The professor laughed. “I’m glad to see you haven’t changed,” he murmured as he pulled out a chair for me.

  “That doesn’t sound like a compliment,” I told him, making a face. As the professor returned to my seat, my phone suddenly started to ring and I jumped when I saw it was Sergei. I answered it quickly, stammering, “H-Hello?”

  “How are things there, pchelka?”

  My mind completely went blank. “Great.” I looked at the professor and said lamely, “The reunion’s just…great.” I wanted to bang my head against the table as soon as the words slipped out. I knew I shouldn’t have lied, but I had panicked, thinking if he found out there wasn’t actually a reunion, he’d find out that I also kind-of, sort-of stole my engagement ring from him.

  “You sound strange. Are you certain everything’s alright?”

  “Da.” Then I said quickly, “I’m sorry, I have to go. Someone’s calling me, I think we’re, umm, about to play a game. Call you later, bye.”

  Julian raised a brow when I lowered my phone on the table. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but did you just lie to Sergei about where you are – or who you’re with?”

  “Sort of?”

  “I hope you have a good reason for it.” Julian’s tone was careful. “I’ve known him for years, and he’s not one to forgive those who lie to him.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Sergei and Fredericka

  The billionaire was seated alone in the bedroom he shared with Fredericka, staring sightlessly at the phone in his hands. He had given her a chance to explain and tell him he was mistaken about his assumptions. He had given her another chance when other people would have none at all.

  But she had lied, and with it he was empty.

  Unknown to Fredericka, incognito bodyguards followed her everywhere. It had been so since the first time they met, a precaution that he always took for all his loved ones.

  Wanting to surprise her, he had called up one of her bodyguards to ask where she was so he could follow her, but he was the one who had been surprised instead. There was no goddamn reunion. Instead, there had only been her – and the professor.

  If this had happened even a month earlier, or even a week earlier, the billionaire wouldn’t have allowed himself to be convinced so easily of her betrayal. But because the wounds left by his mother’s cold and callous words were still fresh in his brain---

  You boys were just my insurance policies.

  As soon as the memory took hold, it colored everything the billionaire remembered. He did not, could not, and would not believe that he was completely wrong about Fredericka. She was a woman who deserved to be loved, and he didn’t regret loving her. Even knowing that she had lied to him about her whereabouts today, he didn’t see it as a reason to question the paternity of their child.

  But what he did know he had gotten completely wrong was the fact that she loved him back.

  Maybe she hadn’t even lied about her feelings, maybe she had really loved him.

  But what today proved was that she didn’t love him enough to completely have forgotten the professor. Maybe she never would, and maybe it wasn’t right for him to wait and want that she did.

  By the time Fredericka drove back home, the last of her belongings was being transferred to the trunk of his limousine. He watched her car slow down, his expression shuttering as she came rushing out, eyes bright, cheeks flushed.

  “Are we going somewhere?” Fredericka blurted out.

  A curt nod to his staff had everyone filing out, and only when they were alone did the billionaire finally turn to her, saying quietly, “You’re leaving.”

  Fredericka blinked. “Where am I going?”

  “A hotel suite has been prepaid for your use. Tomorrow, a real estate agent will contact you with options for housing.”

  As she listened to him speak, she could feel her world starting to spin faster and faster. She understood what he was saying, but at the same time she didn’t. What was he saying?

  “You can buy any house you want, as long as it’s in Rockton.”

  Fear trailed its claws down her spine, and paranoia started feeding her mind with the most insidious thoughts.

  You should have seen this coming---

  “Sergei?” she whispered shakily. Her hand unconsciously moved up to her chest, which had started to hurt.

  “My lawyer will be meeting with you as well.”

  Ah, it hurt so bad. So bad. Please God. Please let this be a nightmare she could wake up from.

  “All the arrangements will be in your favor – child support, visitation rights, the primary custody of our child will be yours. I’m making this clear now because I don’t want you to think that you’ll be alone in raising the child.”

  Fredericka fought back a wave of dizziness, and her hand moved down to her tummy. I’m okay, baby. We’re okay.

  The billionaire shoved his hands deep in his pockets. “That’s all I needed to say.”

  And then they were looking at each other.

  No, he was looking at her, just looking at her, like he hadn’t wrecked her world, and the thought of it made her…snap.

  Fredericka didn’t know how she reached him. All she knew was that suddenly she was right in front of him, and she was beating his chest.

  He wanted her to leave?

  He wanted her to choose a house?

  He wanted her…no longer?

  The tears rushed down her face, and she didn’t even have the strength to hold them back. She wanted to stop beating his chest long enough to ask him to please, please tell her this was all a sick joke, but she couldn’t.

  Fredericka looked up at him, willing him to tell her what she wanted to hear, but he still just looked at her and her throat tightened. “You can’t do this.” Her voice broke. “You can’t.” Her fists struck his chest one more time, but the billionaire didn’t even flinch. He simply took everything in wordlessly, unmoving, and somehow this hurt her even more.

  It was as if she had lost the power to reach him at all.

  Her hands fell limply against her sides. “At least have the courtesy to tell me why.” When her voice cracked, her hand tightened over her tummy. It’s okay, baby. We’re okay. “Because this doesn’t make sense.” She looked at the billionaire, unable to stop begging him with her eyes. Please, Sergei, Please. “We were okay just this morning, weren’t we?”

  Sergei’s fists clenched inside his pockets.

  “Weren’t we?”

  He started to turn away.

  Pain screamed inside of her, and she choked, “Sergei, please. Just tell me what I did wrong---”

  “You did nothing wrong,” he gritted out.

  “Then why?” she demanded painfully. Why make me trust you? Why make me love you?

  The billionaire was almost tempted to laugh, knowing that he could have asked her the question as well. Why couldn’t he be enough for her? Why? He remembered how she had looked at him
before she left, asking him, How do I look, by the way?

  How the fuck could she have even asked him that, knowing that she was about to meet Julian Alexeyev behind his back?

  The pain of her betrayal ravaged him, and he said harshly, “I don’t owe you an explanation.” And this time, he didn’t give her a chance to say another word. Motioning for the chauffeur to step out, the billionaire ordered him to escort Fredericka into the car and take her to the hotel.

  Looking back at Fredericka, he said flatly, “I won’t let you drive in the state you’re in.”

  Fredericka didn’t answer, only turning away from him, and he forced himself to watch her go so that it would be clear to every part of him that it was over.

  It was over.

  When the chauffeur opened the car door for Fredericka, she suddenly stopped and spun to face him again, and the billionaire froze at the smile on her face. It was painfully, heartbreakingly beautiful.

  “I get it,” she whispered. “I do get it, and I d-don’t blame you.”

  “I don’t understand---” But the way his chest was constricting tightly was telling him he should have.

  Her lips moved, her voice inaudible, and agony burst inside him, telling him that he should understand what she was saying.

  She disappeared into the limousine, and soon she was being driven away.

  At his command, he thought tautly. Because this was what he wanted. This was what was right.

  Turning away, he found himself staring at her car and he walked towards it unthinkingly, unlocking the door. He didn’t know what he was doing, didn’t know what he was hoping to see. More evidence that he had done the right thing? Or perhaps what he wanted was more evidence of her betrayal and her love for Julian Alexeyev?

  But what he did find was something he didn’t expect at all.

  On the passenger seat was a familiar-looking box, and his heart clenched at the sight of it.

  Why? Why did she have this?

  Dimly, he heard another car speeding down the driveway, of voices of his family who had just returned. But he paid this no heed, his burning concentration focused on the box he had grasped from the seat.

  As he straightened, the box still in his hands, he saw his family hurrying towards him.

  “Blyad.” Misha swore when he saw what his older brother was holding. “We’re late then?”

  Seri groaned. “I knew it, I told you we’d be late.”

  “I hope Fredericka recorded her proposal,” Vassi muttered and looked at Sergei. “Did she?”

  Sergei didn’t answer, only opening the box with shaking fingers.

  It was still the same ring he had purchased, but when he pulled it out of the box, that was when he caught a glimpse of the engraved words on its inner side.

  Lyubov maya.

  My love.

  Misha was the first one to notice Sergei’s whitened expression. “What happened? Is it Fredericka?”

  “She lied to me,” the billionaire said hoarsely. “Why would she do this then lie to me about meeting Julian Alexeyev?”

  “Oh, Sergei.” Seri’s heart ached hard for her oldest brother. “Fredericka called us half an hour ago, telling us to come back because she was going to propose to you. D-did she---”

  “No,” Sergei said tonelessly. “I didn’t give her a chance to. I told her to leave.”

  Seri shook her head in confusion. “Why would you do that?”

  “Because I thought---” He swallowed hard. “I thought she wanted Julian Alexeyev, and she was…she was only with me because of the baby.”

  “That’s not possible,” Vassi said quietly. “She loves you, Sergei. I don’t know why she lied, but I know what I saw and I know that she loves you.”

  Ah.

  “I love her, too,” he heard himself say. “I love her.” But right now, he was beginning to fear he had no right to do so.

  It took a mere six minutes to call Alexeyev and get the truth out of their meeting, fifteen minutes of beating the red light and getting a speeding ticket to make it to the hotel where he had forced Fredericka to check in.

  But when he made it there, she was gone, leaving only a note.

  I don’t blame you for this. I should have seen it coming, and so if anyone’s at fault, it’s me, thinking that we could be different.

  I know you met with Elsa secretly, and I want you to know that if she’s the one who can make you happy – then I’m happy, too. You don’t have to marry me for our baby’s sake, Sergei.

  I promise to keep our baby safe, and I promise – I promise I won’t keep our child away.

  I just need time and space. Just please give me this, and I promise when I come back, it will be okay.

  And we can be friends again.

  The billionaire’s eyes closed.

  In his mind, he saw her, pale and broken, her words barely audible.

  I get it. I do get it, and I d-don’t blame you.

  He saw her lips move, and this time – it was so goddamn clear, what she was saying, he felt like a fucking fool for not realizing what those words were.

  You’re too young.

  Because he had let his past and fears get the better of him, he had unknowingly destroyed her by making her worst nightmare come true. He had unwittingly become what her father was to her mother.

  Someone too young to realize what he had – until it was too late, and he had thrown away what he should have held on to with all his might.

  Chapter Twenty

  The day after Fredericka left, Sergei began preparations for the wedding, and invitations were sent out to every acquaintance he had a reason for inviting. No expense was spared, and only the best was hired, with the billionaire personally attending to every detail.

  It was to be the biggest event of the year, and it was also to be the most controversial. Because Rockton was a small town, it had taken only a matter of days before locals realized that Fredericka and Sergei weren’t just living apart. They were also estranged, and even with the date of the wedding approaching, stolen photos of Fredericka leaving her rented apartment showed that her finger remained noticeably bare of any engagement ring.

  By now, Sergei had been made the butt of people’s jokes and the subject of countless memes, most of them depicting the billionaire as an arrogant playboy who had gotten his just desserts. Bets were also being made on whether the billionaire would be stood up at the altar, with the odds on him being jilted 5:1.

  Even with all this, the billionaire made no attempt to visit Fredericka. She had asked him for time and space, and he would give it to her, even if it killed him. The only thing he allowed himself to do was to contact her every day, leaving her voice mails, sending her text messages, and through it he would update her about the wedding preparations.

  Did she like white roses? It was what he had chosen for their wedding.

  Was white and gold as a motif to her liking? If not, he told her to send word and he would have it replaced to the color scheme she desired.

  Had she talked to Anneke and Alyx yet? The billionaire had asked them to be her bridesmaids, but he wasn’t certain if they were attending. Those two weren’t talking to him either.

  And after these progress reports, he would apologize and explain to her, even knowing that by now she must be sick and tired of hearing him say the same thing again and again.

  Over and over, he would tell her about how he had used Elsa as an excuse so Fyodor wouldn’t know about him meeting his mother in secret. Over and over, he would enumerate the reasons why he had it found so fucking easy to jump to conclusions about Julian Alexeyev.

  And with every call, desperation and despair would threaten to choke him, and he would end it with three words.

  I love you.

  Never in his life had the billionaire imagined he would have to bare his soul by typing words or leaving unanswered voice recordings, but the billionaire did so without a qualm. It was easy to grovel when the ability to keep his heart beating was at stake.
>
  On the eve before their wedding, Sergei was unable to fall asleep. The temptation to drown himself in liquor beckoned to him, but the billionaire resisted the urge, knowing that only the weakest fool would come to his wedding inebriated.

  When the silence in his room became too much to bear, he decided to step out to his balcony, and that was when he saw the lone figure coming up the driveway.

  Ah.

  He recognized who it was easily of course, even though a part of him wished he could pretend he didn’t see her.

  Sergei met her by the front door, taking Fredericka by surprise and making her stumble back with a gasp. For a moment, all he could do was gaze at her, his dark eyes roaming over her with hungry need.

  She looked…good. Beautiful actually, with her red hair silky and shining, curled against her back, and effortlessly elegant with her still-slender body sheathed in a loose, gauzy blouse with bell-bottom sleeves and white capris.

  “Do you know what time it is?” he asked jerkily.

  “About four thirty in the morning?” she answered, a wobbly smile appearing on her lips.

  “That’s right.” His fists clenched. “Too early for the wedding.” And yet she was already here, and a sick feeling started in his stomach as the billionaire tried not to think what that meant.

  When Fredericka’s lips started to part, fear made him beat her to speaking, and he heard himself ask, “Have you seen the invitations?” He had never been a coward, but it had long dawned on him that love had the power to make a man become anything.

  Fool, idiot, and now – a spineless groom-to-be clutching at straws.

  “I learned calligraphy for it,” he continued tautly when she only stared at him, eyes unblinking.

  “I know.” Her smile slowly faded, and the sight chipped at his heart. “I r-read it on the papers…among other things.”

  Ah. He said quietly, “The jokes don’t bother me.”