Rival: A Billionaire Romance Novel

by Amy Hoxton

  James sported a knowing smirk on his aged face. He’d seen me take home plenty of women, sure. But he’d never seen me go pick one up.

  Lucy’s apartment was located near Little Italy. The neighborhood wasn’t all too bad, in retrospect. She could definitely do better, however. I wasn’t judging her, mostly because I would have a long night of doing that very same thing to scores of rich pricks. The sickening, self centered elites. I often got clumped up with them, no wonder Lucy used to think I was an asshole. I definitely was, albeit a selective one — and after all, I did call myself that during our first ever conversation.

  I shook those thoughts out of my head and pressed the intercom button that stood next to the Reynolds and Ziegler label. A few seconds later, a voice I did not recognize told me to head on up, as Lucy was almost ready.

  The door buzzed open and I let myself in. After a short elevator ride, I found myself staring at a row of identical doors. One of them opened, towards the back, and a young girl with bleached blonde hair poked her head out, looking around for someone or something.

  Her face lit up when she saw me, and motioned me to come closer. I assumed that was Lucy’s housemate, though her name escaped me. I knew it started with the letter B, but other than that, my mind was drawing blanks.

  We didn’t have time to introduce ourselves.

  Lucy must have heard the intercom and hurried up. I heard the two of them talk in hushed tones for a couple of seconds before the door swung open, the lights of their apartment illuminating the dimly lit hallway.

  She stepped out and closed the door behind her. Lucy looked positively stunning, I almost had to do a double take to ensure she hadn’t been swapped with someone else.

  The long, black dress she wore enhanced her figure yet still left plenty for the mind to fill in. It was a somewhat formal event, after all. I could barely tell she was wearing makeup, despite her facial features being more prominent. Her hair, which she normally kept loose, had instead been tied into a bun and held together by what I assumed was nothing short of magic.

  “You look amazing,” I complimented her, still in a mixture of shock and awe.

  “I’m not the only one, boss,” She replied, winking as she smiled sheepishly.

  “Call me Alex. Now come on, we’ll be late,” I suggested, turning sideways as I gestured towards the elevator.

  James waited patiently in front of the car, and opened both of the rear doors for us to get in. I waved him off as Lucy climbed aboard and closed the heavy door. I had heard that signature metallic thud plenty of times before, yet that night it sounded somewhat better. Everything else did, and for the first time I didn’t find myself dreading the night ahead of me.

  “Ever been to one of those?” I asked.

  “I think so. I was a kid, I barely remember anything. I know the gist, though.”

  I chuckled. “Sounds familiar. My father loved dragging my sister and I along with him…”

  The topic wasn’t the most lighthearted I could have picked. Regardless, Lucy and I shared quite a lot of things in common. In another world, we could have even grown up together, had our families not wanted to destroy one another.

  In another world, still, all of this would not be happening.

  James drove us to Bertrand’s manor. We arrived right on time, and judging by the cars we passed, many of the guests were already there.

  We stood in front of the entrance. The statues were still there, their marble spotless as always. Spotlights had been installed around every single one of them, just to draw more attention to them.

  Aside from the exceptionally poor taste of the whole operation, that open space knockoff museum gave out an eerie vibe I couldn’t wait to get away from. Even Lucy felt it, I bet. She looked around, taking in the peculiar sights the manor had to offer. Her face tinted with worry, prompting me to investigate.

  “Is everything alright, dear?” I asked, leaning closer to her.

  She hesitated. “Yes, yes. It’s just… I’m a bit nervous, that’s all.”

  “That makes the two of us. I hate these fucking things,” I admitted, my voice barely louder than a whisper.

  The corner of her mouth rose, flashing me half a smile.“Then why are we here?”

  I raised my eyebrows and took a small step back, clapping my hands together as I exhaled. “Various reasons. I needed a date, or at least someone that’s not as old as time itself. These things can get pretty damn boring, you know. Oh, and I think you’re cute. How’s that?”

  Lucy blushed and tried to turn away from me, but it was far too late. It made her all the more appealing. She turned back around, beaming with what could have been nothing other than joy. Perhaps a tick of relief, too, just to taste.

  Her eyes twinkled like the bright stars that dotted the inky sky above us. The same broad smile I’d seen before was plastered on her face, shining brighter than all those spotlights combined.

  For all I cared the night could have ended there, but Lucy nudged me and offered me her arm. “Shall we?”

  Even for his standards, Bertrand had outdone himself. His antics would always involve gratuitous displays of wealth, but that time he’d clearly gone above and beyond..

  The main floor of the manor had been emptied. Tables hugged every wall, covered with all manners of food and drink. The refreshments alone could have fed everyone in the room twice over, but then again, that was Bertrand’s style. Throwing money at the issue until it fixed itself.

  In the middle of the room laid a raised platform upon which the entertainment resided. He’d hired a string quartet to perform, which would have been fine if not for the terrible acoustics of the room.

  Between the low murmur of the chatter and the echoing caused by the empty space, the music was hardly reaching anyone past the platform the artists stood on. They weren’t in the best of moods, judging by the defeated look of money-driven compliance they sported, though in truth hardly anyone was paying attention to them.

  Most were focused on themselves and each other. That night, the same could be said about me. As amusing as the quartet was, my attention was focused entirely on Lucy.

  “Bertrand’s a peculiar man,” I declared, leaning onto a table to grab two glasses of champagne.

  “Do you like him?” She asked, right before taking a sip. Her gaze met mine just as I steeled myself, narrowly avoiding a fit of laughter.

  “Not in the slightest,” I chuckled. “Why do you ask?”

  She shrugged. “Just wondering. This place seems so… Fake. Like a movie set.”

  “Last time I was here, he had these walls covered in paintings. Most of them were reproductions, too. Man’s got no class whatsoever,” I agreed.

  It was nice to see Lucy and I were on the same page. All in all, that fundraiser was shaping up to be somewhat enjoyable. With her at my side and a glass full of champagne in my hand, I felt like I could take on the world.

  It hadn’t occurred to me that her father might have been among the guests. I hadn’t seen him at the last event I attended, however, which reassured me things would be fine.

  Besides, I wasn’t scared of him. I simply didn’t want to deal with him having a massive heart attack upon seeing his dear princess with the man he hated the most — after my deceased father, that is.

  Alas, part of me was curious to see just how he would react.

  I cast the old Reynolds out of my head to focus on the younger one.

  Lucy seemed to be enjoying herself, and in spite of what she believed, I thought she blended right in with the crowd. We were both raised to be like these people, though it didn’t mean we actually were.

  Our of the corner of my eye I spotted Bertrand. What the man lacked in height, he made up for in weight. Carrying a flute glass and small teaspoon, he walked over to the raised platform upon which the quartet was performing.

  They promptly stopped playing, though I couldn’t tell if they were grateful their embarrassment was over, or angry they couldn’t fin
ish their piece. Either way, Bertrand had the floor.

  He struck the glass with the teaspoon once, then twice and thrice, until every guest in the room had gone silent. Lucy looked at me and I shrugged. I had no idea what the man was up to.

  “I would like to thank all of you for being here tonight,” He began, sweeping the room with his beady eyes. “The Lord knows the children need our help now more than ever.”

  A soft murmur darted through the crowd as people nodded in agreement. “Every bit helps, I assure you. Now, if you would follow me…”

  Bertrand waddled off of the platform and headed towards a set of wide double doors. The hinges creaked painfully as the doors opened inward, revealing what appeared to be some sort of ballroom with an admittedly beautiful view. From within, the impossibly large windows gave the guests a clear and unobstructed view of the manor’s garden in all of its glory. No statues, just a vast green expanse with a fountain as elaborate as it was large as its centerpiece. It vaguely resembled something I’d seen once in Rome, though I couldn’t quite put my finger on it.

  “Is this guy serious?” Lucy whispered, getting on her tiptoes to reach my ears.

  “I would have expected nothing less from him,” I replied as we followed the other guests.

  The manor was far bigger than I had originally imagined. I had only seen it from one side, but as I later realized, the damn thing was closer to a castle than a normal house.

  Most of the attendees appeared to be lost. The invitation didn’t mention a ball of any kind. When the slow music started playing from speakers I couldn’t see, people looked around in search of courage, or perhaps just someone to break the ice.

  Some people stepped forward as the crowd spread across the borders of the room, giving them enough space to perform whatever dance they had in mind.

  Given the music, I expected a slow waltz or some variation thereof, and yet the couples that walked forth simply embraced one another and swayed softly, like sunflowers in a summer breeze. No grandiose displays of skill, no gravity — and age — defying moves, just two people who probably hadn’t danced in years.

  Little by little, other couples found the courage to join in. Some refused and watched from the sidelines, though as time went on, their numbers dwindled.

  Lucy took my hand in hers and stepped forward, dislodging us from the unmoving crowd we were part of. She looked back at me as I reluctantly followed her, narrowly dodging dancers to find a spot for us to occupy.

  We settled in front of one of the massive windows. The ballroom was full of life and lit up like a Christmas tree in the Vatican, and yet that spot felt quiet. Perhaps I had simply begun to exclude all the background chatter and the clacking of heels onto the polished hardwood floors. Even the music sounded off, somewhat muffled.

  “Are you going to just stand there or are we going to dance?” Lucy asked mockingly, her arms resting at her sides. Her voice rang true and crystal clear.

  Part of me was glad she dragged me into that, despite my general aversion to dancing.

  I let actions speak and took a step toward her. My hands found her hips, and as I held her close to me I could have sworn she shivered. Just for a moment, before draping her arms around my neck.

  It wasn’t much for a dance. Just two people holding one another close, their bodies swaying in unison as they lazily followed the music blaring from above.

  Lucy laid her head on my chest and held it there. Her warmth undoubtedly made my heart beat faster, which I hoped she didn’t notice. Hoping, as it turns out, hardly does anything.

  A most heavenly cocktail of scents attacked my nostrils and filled my lungs. Subtle hints of tropical flowers made her smell like a slice of paradise fit for a secret getaway.

  I looked at her just as she raised her gaze to meet mine. We shared a smile in a moment that will forever be ingrained in my mind.

  The first time in years where I genuinely felt something real for a person. The first time I prayed with all my might I wouldn’t ruin it. The first time I kissed Lucy.

  It lasted a split second, at least the first time. She stopped moving and rose on her tiptoes to vanquish the height difference. Lucy’s expression resembled that of someone who’d just reached enlightenment. Pure tranquility.

  She pressed her lips against mine and swiftly retreated, fear and worry spreading across her flustered face. The damage was done. She’d ignited a spark that landed onto the long forgotten powder keg that was my deep seated and badly concealed need for genuine human affection — the kind one can’t buy, that is.

  I leaned closer to find her warm lips again and cast the shadows of doubt away. The first kiss had been an appetizer, and we were both starving.

  Passion would have swept us both away if it hadn’t been for the people surrounding us.

  “Want to get out of here?” I suggested, my voice almost drowned by the noise that surrounded us.

  “Thought you’d never ask,” She breathed, her gaze burning into mine.

  I grabbed her hand, squeezing it tight, and made a beeline for the outskirts of the ballroom. I could hear her giggling softly behind me as we dodged both dancers and onlookers alike, only to resurface near the manor’s entrance.

  The clock was approaching nine. In some cases, events such as the one we had just escaped from could extend well past midnight. We’d had enough in less than an hour. I did, at least. Given how Lucy instantaneously agreed to leave, I guessed she wasn’t too fond of them either.

  We made our way out of the manor and headed towards my car. James recognized us from afar and quickly put out the cigarette he’d been smoking. As we got closer to the car I couldn’t help but notice his knowing smirk. That smug bastard knew me well enough to predict how the night would end.

  The ride home lasted for what felt like forever. It may have been my burning desire messing with my perception of time, or perhaps just my innate impatience. Either way, we rushed inside as soon as we arrived back at my place.

  A strange sense of calm washed over me as soon as we crossed the threshold into my house. I didn’t know what to attribute it to -- it could have been the familiar setting, or finally having Lucy all for myself.

  I normally would have gone straight for the not-so-mini bar I had built into the living room, just to get some more liquid strength in me. That night I didn’t feel the need to.

  Every once in a while the stars aligned. I hadn’t bothered to check if they did, I just knew it.

  I could finally admire Lucy away from prying eyes. We hadn’t said much, though no words were needed. I circled her like a predator, taking in just how gorgeous she was. She’d clearly put extra effort for that night, that much was certain, and the results were astonishing.

  That black dress, the same one that hugged her forms so graciously now seemed to be restricting her. I wanted nothing more than to help her out of it, and see what it hid from my sight.

  I had always been a man of planned action. Always ensuring nothing could go wrong by planning my moves as best I could. Up until then, at least.

  The beginning of that night was, for the most part, shrouded in a haze of lust. Our primal instincts kicked in as soon as we found ourselves alone in my house.

  I remember my hands roaming across her body as we kissed, our tongues locked in a furious struggle which would see no clear winner. I remember pushing her towards the bedroom, my touch becoming more daring with each step we took.

  Lucy’s tender moans will be forever etched into my mind, just like the entirety of that night. I broke the kiss and pushed her backwards, onto the soft mattress I spent every night alone on.

  I hadn’t even had the time to take my suit jacket off, though my tie was merely a shadow of itself after Lucy played with it. She motioned me to join her onto the bed, biting her lower lip as she gave me a sly grin. She thought she had me, but the roles were reversed. Deep down Lucy knew she was not the one in charge, though I let her toy with they idea.

  She was mine, and mi
ne only. I climbed on top of the bed and crawled up to her, nesting myself between her legs. That dress, beautiful as it was, still had to be taken off. I would have gladly ripped it to shreds just to get to her flesh sooner, but instead I simply hiked it up to her waist and feasted my eyes on the pale flesh of her supple thighs.

  She let out a sharp breath, feeling my fingertips graze her smooth skin. From her knees up to her inner thighs, getting dangerously close to her entrance, protected by a black satin shield that progressively dampened with each passing second.

  The arousal was coursing through her veins just as it did mine. Blood, that had all gone downstairs. Lucy’s flustered expression was a mix of pure desire and a tinge of embarrassment, though I could see no reason for that — we both knew she would end up in bed with me.

  I swiftly unbuckled my belt and yanked my pants down. The lustful groan Lucy left out when she saw my manhood spring to freedom was both adorable and inexplicably filthy. She wanted it, I could tell by the look behind those pools of copper her eyes were made of. A deep desire surfacing at the speed of light, a craving for affection we both had. Primal needs that had to be fulfilled.

  The fabric of her panties almost ripped when I pushed them to the side. Her scent was as intoxicating as it was sweet, and I couldn’t help but stare as I lined myself up against her.

  My gaze met hers and she gave me the slightest of nods. I pushed in and felt her warmth envelop me, inch by inch until she no longer could. I filled her to the brim, and as our bodies came in contact, I gave her a brief moment of respite.

  Lucy’s head thrown back, her eyes shut tight as she groaned through gritted teeth. Perhaps it had been a while for her, too, which would have made sense in retrospect.

  I propped myself up on my elbow, for support. My other arm, or rather my hand, went straight for her throat. I gripped it tight, just to further remind her I owned her.