TAMED: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance

by May, Linnea

  “Miss Hill is still here?” I ask, as Wally opens the door for me.

  Wally looks at me with her usual maternal smile.

  “You’re early,” she says. “And your mother and I agreed that her music is a nice background tune while we’re finishing up preparations for dinner.”

  She closes the door behind me. “Does it disturb you?”

  I shake my head. “No. I was just confused.”

  “Kingston,” my mother greets me, approaching us in wide steps, a cloud of perfume accompanying her as she welcomes me with two kisses on the cheek.

  “You’re early,” she says. “So unlike you.”

  “I can leave and come back, if you prefer,” I tease her.

  My mother is not one for sarcasm and just rolls her eyes at me.

  “You didn’t bring Gloria with you,” she states.

  “She’ll join us later,” I say.

  Fuck knows where that girl is off to again. After telling me to be careful in regard to Elodie, she has been doing the exact opposite and acting even more stupid than before. I’m not sure I’m the one putting our arrangement in danger with the way she’s behaving these days. With the way she blatantly flirts and hangs out with her group of friends at the clubs, it almost seems as if she wants everything to tank.

  I just now realize that the music has stopped. If I don’t get out of this entrance hall soon, I’ll run right into Elodie when she comes down the stairs to leave the house - and I would very much like to avoid that.

  But I’m not fast enough. Just as I hand my coat and scarf over to Wally, ready to move into the living room, I see my mother’s and Wally’s eyes move up the staircase.

  Elodie is wearing another outfit that I gave her, a sleek mid-length knit dress that hugs her slim frame and adds just a hint of sexiness, a long side slit providing a sultry finish. She’s wearing her hair up for a change and has painted her eyes in a smoky and darker style than usual. While she may look like pure innocence to everyone else, she radiates an irresistible allure to me.

  Her green eyes widen when she sees me, and she walks down the stairs with careful and slow steps, uncertain what to do.

  “Miss Hill,” my mother pipes. “That sounded as beautiful as always. I can’t wait to hear your performance at the engagement party.”

  Elodie casts a shy smile at her.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Abrams,” she says. “I’ll be on my way.”

  Wally searches for Elodie’s coat in the closet next to the entrance door, while we stand in an awkward triangle with my unsuspecting mother right next to me.

  “Do you feel well-prepared?” my mother asks her. “For the event, I mean.”

  Elodie smiles at her. It’s a distant and polite smile, overshadowed by a sadness for which I’m sure I’m to blame. While it makes her look incredibly beautiful, it causes my heart to ache in a way that’s new to me.

  “Yes,” she says in a faint voice. “I think I’ve come up with a final playlist now. I can send it to you next week, if that’s okay?”

  My mother nods. “Sure, sure. That’ll do. We have everything settled, so this should be good. And I reckon there will be no surprises on that list?”

  Elodie shakes her head. “No, Ma’am.”

  She receives her coat from Wally and puts it on, avoiding eye contact with me at all times. With the way she’s behaving right now, it’s hard to believe that I’ve had her bent over in my apartment, begging for my cock more than once. I can still see her teary eyes, her shivering body every time I was done with her.

  I want to do all of that to her again. Right now. And it makes me sick that I can’t.

  “If you don’t mind,” Elodie says, directed at my mother, “I think I won’t need any further practice sessions here. If it’s alright with you, I will see you on the day of the party?”

  My mother raises her eyebrows in surprise.

  “Yes, sure dear,” she says. “But you know, you could still –“

  “I’d rather not,” Elodie says. “I’ll be busy and I think I’ve burdened you enough.”

  My mother places her hand on Elodie’s shoulder. “You’ve never been a burden, dear. On the contrary, we’ve enjoyed having you play here. Isn’t that right?”

  My mother is mostly speaking to Wally, but includes me in her search for confirmation, so I nod.

  Elodie glances at me, her face stone cold and unreadable.

  “I’ll be on my way,” she says in a faint voice.

  “We will see you at the party,” my mother says, while Wally opens the door for Elodie to leave.

  “Goodbye, Miss Hill,” I say, mostly to see whether she acknowledges me with any kind of attention.

  Elodie looks up at me, her gaze darkening.

  “Mrs. Abrams,” she says, nodding toward me before she turns around and walks out the door.

  Her voice and her look leave me with a throbbing pain in my chest. I have to fight every fiber of my being not to run after her, catching and wrapping her up in my arms and claiming her with a kiss that could lead to so much more.

  And what the hell is that dumb lump in my throat?

  “I’m going to miss her,” Wally says after she closes the door behind Elodie. “I’ve grown so accustomed to her wonderful music.”

  My mother clears her throat. “Yes, it was nice to have some artistic touch in this home.”

  I follow them into the kitchen, sitting at the countertop while I watch Wally finishing up on dinner preparations and my mother filling her glass with wine. It’s a typical scene from my upbringing. These two women, talking in the kitchen while one of them works, the other drinks, while I sit at the counter, watching them. Today is one of the rare occasions where my mother decides to share her wine with me. She places a glass in front of me, casting me a quick look as she does.

  “How are you doing?” she asks, taking a seat next to me. “Nervous about tying the knot?”

  I look at her, wondering if she truly believes that Gloria is the woman of my dreams, the woman I love. The woman I’m looking forward to spending the rest of my life with.

  “Not really,” I tell her, sipping on my wine. “Everything seems to be going according to plan. The flowers, the food, the location. The music.”

  My mother takes a sip of her own drink, nodding quietly. Wally is standing with her back to us, blending the dressing for our appetizers and appearing overly focused on it. She’s been working for our family for a very long time. Even if it had ever been my mother’s intention, she probably couldn’t have managed to hide even our dirtiest secrets from her. Wally knows everything, but she never talks about anything.

  “Yes, things are all set for the party,” my mother says, sounding bored. “But you know that’s not what I’m talking about.”

  She casts me a look from the side, her right eyebrow raised.

  “I guess I’m as nervous as anybody who’s about to get married,” I say.

  “Look, Kingston,” my mother says, swirling the liquid in her glass. “I know you don’t love Gloria, and I know she doesn’t love you.”

  I huff. “No secret about that, huh?”

  She throws me a warning look.

  “Believe it or not, son, I would’ve wanted things to be different for you,” she says. “But with the way you’ve been behaving, it’s become hard for your father to trust you with his legacy.”

  I huff again. “His legacy? If anything, it’s my grandfather’s legacy, and he’s about to fuck up everything. You and I both know that.”

  Actually, I’m not sure if my mother does know this, but I’m curious to hear her opinion about it. She’s not really involved in my father’s business, but she’s neither stupid nor blind. She’s been at those dinner meetings, she’s sat with the men while they were discussing my father’s many mistakes and shortcomings, and she must know about the financial trouble we’re facing if our family’s shipping empire doesn’t adjust to modern times and updates its systems in the near future. We’ve already los
t too many clients, too many contracts that had been in place for a long time before my father took over.

  “Darling, if I didn’t know about it, I wouldn’t force you to go through with a wedding that lacks the love and passion one would otherwise want,” she says without looking at me. “I know you’re giving up a lot for this, and I know there might be more suitable options out there. More suitable for the heart, that is.”

  Even Wally pauses at my mother’s somber tone. She never speaks like this, and I’m just as surprised as Wally to witness her unusual demeanor.

  “I’m very proud of you for doing this,” she says, now looking at me. “I know it may be a silly demand coming from your father and me, but it’s time for you to act like a man. God knows we can’t rely on your brother to do it.”

  “Acting like a man,” I repeat, my voice underlined with a bitter tone. “My ability to run this company shouldn’t have to rely on me entering a loveless marriage with a Waldorf girl I barely know.”

  “You know Gloria well enough,” my mother says. “The Waldorf’s are a family of great influence, you couldn’t ask for a better match.”

  She pauses and our eyes meet.

  “If this was a business deal, I’d agree,” I tell her.

  My mother shrugs. “You know marriages served to save kingdoms in earlier times. You’re doing nothing less with this.”

  The doorbell rings and Wally hurries to the door as if she can’t wait to escape our conversation. My mother gets up from her seat as well, casting me a look as if to tell me that our little chat better stay between us.

  I watch as she walks away and wonder if saving a kingdom is really worth this ugly charade.

  Chapter XVIII

  Elodie

  So, this was it then? Kingston really seems to be done with me, whether I like it or not. I’ve stopped sending him messages after the last time we ran into each other at his parents’ house. I wonder if he showed up early that night to see me.

  But if he did, he made no effort to talk to me in private. On the contrary, he treated me with such cold distance that it’s hard to believe the things that happened between us ever happened.

  It’s better this way. No matter how great things felt between us, we both knew this couldn’t go on forever. The longer it would have lasted, the harder it would have been to stop.

  Soon, this will all be forgotten. I just have to get through this one night, the engagement party. Mrs. Abrams has already asked me whether I’d be willing to perform at the actual wedding as well, but I’ve told her that I’ll need more time to consider. Of course, I really need that gig. I need the money and the visibility. It’s always been my dream to make it as a solo pianist, and I would love to build a career as a freelance artist who gets hired for events of this kind, but I know how hard it is to make this work. And I don’t have wealthy parents who could support me while trying to fulfill my dream, like a lot of my fellow students at Juilliard do. I have to make money right away and get my foot in the door as early as possible.

  I knew this could be the chance to do just that, and if it means I have to perform while watching the man I was falling in love with tying the knot with another woman, then so be it.

  “Falling in love with?” I give voice to my thoughts, whispering to myself while getting ready in my room.

  I’m standing in front of our mirror, staring at myself as if I was faced with my own reflection for the very first time.

  As if this was a stranger looking back at me.

  Kingston gave me a taste of something I never thought was possible for myself. He gave me taste of true passion, true desire, the ability to explore another side of myself. He let me have a taste of his lavish world and the bliss of being at the receiving end of his skills as a lover.

  Now all of that is gone. And tonight I have to play for him and his fiancée and congratulate them on a union that I know is nothing but a business deal, one that steals him away from me.

  I hate this, but I have to go through with it.

  The dress he bought for me is still the most expensive and most lavish outfit I own, so that’s what I decided to wear tonight. As I stand in front of the mirror, checking myself for the last time before I leave the house, I find myself faced with a challenge I didn’t see coming when I took this job a few months ago.

  I have to deliver the performance of my life, while my heart feels as if it’s shattering into pieces.

  This sucks.

  It doesn’t get better when I leave my room and walk into the last person I need to see right now. Benjamin is sitting on our sofa in the living room, jumping up as he sees me walking out.

  “Leaving for your big gig?” he asks.

  I stop mid-pace and turn to him, furling my eyebrows. Knowing him, I don’t expect any well wishes for tonight.

  “Yes,” I say, ready to leave it at that, but he won’t let me.

  “That can’t be easy,” he says, approaching me. “Watching your favorite sugar daddy get hitched to a woman who plays in a different league than you.”

  I swallow hard and try to appear more appalled than shocked at his accusation.

  “You’ve got to stop making up this shit about me, Benjamin,” I hiss at him. “Now excuse me, I –“

  “I know I’m not making this one up!” he barks at me, blocking my way to the door. “I saw you! You and him!”

  My heart almost stops, and I know he can see it in my face. Now it’s impossible for me to hide my shock at what he’s saying.

  “That’s right,” he says, narrowing his eyes as he casts an evil smirk at me. “I saw you with him. I know you’re fucking him, and I know he’s the one who paid for this dress and all the other fancy clothes you’ve been showboating lately.”

  How? How the hell does he know this? How the hell did he see us?

  Of course, I can’t ask him that because it would give away that he’s right. But I don’t know what else to say, so we just remain in a stare contest for a few more moments before I try to break free again.

  “You’re out of your mind,” I say, trying to get past him.

  Benjamin blocks my way with his arm.

  “I’m not,” he objects. “We both know what I say is true. And we both know that this does not bode well for you. If I tell anyone, the Abrams family, Mrs. Bellamy… you’re fucking screwed, Elodie.”

  I bite my lower lip, trembling with fury and fear while I fight back the tears. I can’t cry now, it would ruin my makeup and I would look like a scarecrow when I show up for my job at the party.

  “I can just imagine their faces when I tell them,” he continues. “How you dragged your little sugar daddy into that coffee place, so he can fuck you where you’d normally serve tables. Did you guys get off on that? The fact that he was doing you at your shitty work place?”

  His words make me feel sick to my stomach. He’s spewing so much hate. I can’t believe we’d been more than close friends just a few months ago.

  “How sad are you,” I whisper, avoiding eye contact with him. “Are you stalking me? How can you be so obsessed to be following me around like this?”

  Benjamin huffs. “Still not admitting it, are you?”

  “What do you want?” I ask, looking up at him through narrow eyes. “What the hell do you want from me, Benjamin? Do you really hate me this much?”

  He glares at me.

  “I want you to own up to it,” he says. “Own up to the fact that you’re a fucking slut.”

  His words hurt. I wish I could be stronger and just brush his insult away as if it was nothing to me.

  But I can’t.

  The worst thing about his accusation is that I don’t even disagree completely. I’ve hooked up with a man who’s about to get married, a man who’s filthy rich and who showered me with presents, even though I never asked for it. I feel bad for what I’ve done, and having Benjamin pointing it out like this only adds to my distraught.

  “I don’t have time for this,” I say. “You need to
grow the fuck up, Benjamin.”

  He looks at me with that same face of disgust as before, but moves aside to let me through.

  “You better be careful, Elodie,” he says as I’m about to leave. “That’s a pretty deep hole you’ve dug for yourself.”

  Chapter XXIX

  Kingston

  This is harder than I thought it would be. I’m standing next to Gloria, greeting guests as they enter the venue, hiding behind a facade, a person that I don’t feel connected to at all.

  Gloria is hanging onto my arm, styled to the nines with her hair put up, overloaded with ostentatious jewelry and makeup that’s so heavy it’s hard to tell what her face looks like behind it. While she’s as much of a liar as I am, I expected her to use this evening and the wedding itself as a stage for her narcissist nature. All eyes will be on her, everybody who walks in congratulates her first before they turn to me. This evening is all about the bride-to-be, and while she’s not in love with the man who makes her a bride, it’s still a chance for her to be princess for a day.

  Yet, she’s not acting that way.

  I expected her to gloat and beam all evening, boasting that fake smile while she bathes in the attention. Instead, she’s hanging onto my arm, forcing a smile every time she has to shake a hand, but displaying a rather gloomy expression as soon as no one is looking directly at her. She barely talked to me, which is not unusual in itself, but it’s weird that she doesn’t even give me snarky comments like she usually does. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think that she’s regretting this decision.

  Well, it’s a little bit too late for that, girl.

  Tonight is the night where our arrangement is pretty much sealed in front of all the eyes of the Upper East Side that matter. I’m ignoring the lump in my throat as that thought settles in my chest with a nauseating discomfort.