by Marian Tee
And then she was off.
Amsterdam in the beginning of winter was almost poignantly beautiful, especially in the early mornings. With the trees bare of leaves, they painted thin black lines on the pale orange skies that made one tempted to trace them.
Her favorite route started with a slow, leisurely pass by the canals, the early hours of the day ensuring that the roads weren’t crowded. From there, she made her way to Vondelpark, making sure to pedal faster as more locals cycled down the tree-lined paths.
After an hour, Serenity parked at her favorite spot, facing the sparkling waters of the park. Resting her bike against a sturdy tree trunk, she whipped out her blanket and laid it out on the grass before plopping down with her breakfast: cheese, bread, grapes, and her thermos, which contained her home-brewed coffee.
She ate in contented silence, savoring every bite. When she was done, she reached for her book, a dusty, pocket-sized tome that she had scored from a garage sale. Serenity opened it to the first page, and a handwritten dedication on its yellowed paper instantly caught her attention.
To My Childhood Friend
Ah.
Her lips twisted. Her smile faltered. Her eyes stung.
How sly and sneaky Fate was.
Her hands shook as she slowly closed the book and placed it on the blanket. She stared fiercely at her surroundings, willing herself to continue seeing its beauty. But it was too late. She was already blind.
All she could do was remember.
At first, it had been pain – just pain and nothing else. Pain at being rejected, pain at having all her dreams crushed with a single, unreturned kiss.
Serenity would have been happy if the pain had lived with her forever. When she was in pain, when she was hurt, it was easier not to remember.
But the pain hadn’t lasted.
Right now, it didn’t even exist.
Right now, all she could remember was the terrible, agonizing beauty of how it was before.
Of memories between her and…him.
She closed her eyes as she hugged her knees to herself, pleading with Fate not to make her remember. But Fate didn’t listen.
“May I ask how old are you then?”
“Fourteen, sir.”
“Well, I’m twenty-eight. Exactly twice your age.”
Serenity blinked up at the billionaire. “It’s still not old.”
Serenity bit her lip hard, but still she remembered.
Willem, giving her the first of so many gifts – a pair of shoes specially made just for her. She remembered her breathless excitement - her dazed wonder and bemused awe when she had read the words he had written.
To make you soar.
Most of all, she remembered the times he was just there. Every important moment of her life – he had been there, a silent, steady, comforting presence that told her he would always have her back.
And slowly, she began to weep.
When the pain had been at its most devastating, Serenity had hated him – but not as much as she had hated herself. Fool, fool, fool, she had screamed silently to herself.
But now she knew it wasn’t like that.
She hadn’t been a fool.
Instead, she was a woman who had loved. The Dutch billionaire had taught her how to love, and so she had loved. She had loved him.
And love was always a beautiful thing, even when it wasn’t returned.
****
Willem sat alone in his estate’s balcony, a glass of scotch in his hand. The bottle on the table was nearly empty, but even so he was neither close to being drunk or even sleepy. The sun had finally started setting in the horizon, leaving streaks of color in the otherwise darkening sky. It was a beautiful sight, but it left him cold.
The truth was, all he could see was her.
It had been like that since the time she had quit…and he had let her.
He raised his glass to his lips and downed his drink in one gulp. The liquid burned his throat, and for some reason he was strangely reminded of the scalding taste of Serenity’s tears as she kissed him—
Cursing under his breath, Willem shoved all thoughts of Serenity Raleigh out of his mind and threw the glass against the marbled balusters.
But as it shattered into pieces, all he could think of was how it reminded him of how Serenity’s heart seemed to break right in front of his eyes—
Fuck.
No.
He did not want to remember anything.
He shot up to his feet, but even as he stalked back to his house, he was unable to run away from the memories.
And it was just one memory really, one that always threatened to drive him to his knees.
Her lips, soft, warm, and trembling, pressing against his—
Her voice, choking and pleading—
“Please. Please tell me you’re…you’re just pretending? You’re just controlling yourself?”
Why the fuck couldn’t he forget it?
He worked fourteen hours each day, fucked a different woman every night, and never went to bed sober.
But he still couldn’t make himself forget her.
Serenity Raleigh.
The girl who had told him in not so many words that she loved him.
Willem squeezed his eyes shut as soon as the thought occurred to him, but it was too late.
“Sere?” He remembered deliberately calling her by his personal nickname because he had wanted to remind her, selfishly, of all the years they had been together.
But when he had, Serenity had looked at him like he was no longer the hero she thought he was, and it had made him furious.
“Do I really have to answer that?” He remembered how her voice threatened to crack at the very end, but he also remembered how he had allowed his self-righteous fury to bury his guilt for being so damn selfish.
“Do I really have to answer that?” Even then, Willem had known it had been a crass thing to say, but he had still said it. Because even then, he had realized that his fury wasn’t just to conceal his guilt. It was also there to conceal his fear, which was even more difficult to accept.
“T-then…I need you to stand up.”
And he had done it, even though the most risk-averse part of him had roared at Willem to get the hell out, to leave before his whole world spun off its axis.
“Now what?”
“C-come here.”
And like the self-righteous bastard he now knew himself to be, he had ignored everything his instincts were warning him against and had done what Serenity had asked.
He had come to her.
The reminder made him swear and rake his hand through his hair. Goddammit. What a smug bastard he had been. She was his nineteen-year-old intern. He was her thirty-three-year-old boss. He was light years ahead of her in experience, and he had allowed her to command him just like that.
That should have been the only warning he had needed.
But he had chosen to play deaf, and he was now paying the price.
Willem’s fists slammed down on the handrail. “Damn you.” The words were torn out of him, but he wasn’t certain if he was cursing Serenity, himself, or Fate.
All he knew was that nothing was working.
He could not forget her, and fair or not, right or wrong, Willem despised Serenity for it.
He had already allowed himself to be weak once, out of his love for his family.
He would not allow the same thing to happen again, not even for Serenity.
Chapter Two
A woman rushed out of the CEO’s office at De Konigh Enterprises, sobbing and sniffing, and the sight of her made everyone at the executive floor pale.
“That makes seven,” Andrea whispered anxiously to her fellow receptionist. In a span of one month, Willem de Konigh had gotten rid of six personal assistants, and the woman hastily gathering her belongings from her desk was likely to be #7.
Rachel started to answer, but then the door to the CEO's office opened again, and she and Andrea quickly ducked th
eir heads as Willem de Konigh himself strode out of the office.
The Dutch billionaire was as immaculately gorgeous as always, his blond hair presenting an exquisite contrast with the dark shade of his custom-fitted suit. In the past, all of the women in the office would vie for the chance to greet the boss first. If they were lucky, they might just be the recipient of one of the billionaire’s famous smiles – tiny, brief, but oh so breathtaking.
But for the past two months now, anyone who was unlucky enough to draw the CEO’s attention was guaranteed to have their head bitten off.
Even with their heads down, both Rachel and Andrea covertly watched their boss walk past his sobbing P.A., his face hard.
Poor girl, Rachel thought. Beside her, Andrea had sunk down to her knees, hiding behind the reception counter. She started to do the same, only to realize it was too late.
“Rachel.” The billionaire had suddenly stopped next to the counter.
Paling, she croaked out, “Yes, sir?”
“Inform Accounting to give my P.A. one month’s pay then call H.R. to look for a replacement.”
She nodded profusely. “Understood, sir.”
“Thank you.” The billionaire gave her a clipped nod before disappearing into his private elevator.
When the doors slid close, everyone in the floor breathed a sigh of relief. Or rather, almost everyone, since P.A. #7 was still sniffing at her table.
Andrea rushed to the girl, patting her back, murmuring, “There, there, it’s not your fault.”
Number 7 sniffed again. “I don’t know what I did wrong. I just greeted him, ‘Good morning, Mr. de Konigh,’ and that was it.” The last word came out a wail. “He had this really furious look in his eyes and told me I had broken Rule #1 and was fired.”
“What is Rule #1?” Rachel, having come to join the other employees circled around the just-fired personal assistant, couldn’t help asking curiously.
“Not to call him Mr. de Konigh. I was to call him only ‘meneer.’ And yes, he did tell me that, but—how was I to know he was that serious about it?”
Everyone nodded in sympathy, having heard the same thing from the other girls as well. They had thought it a ridiculous story at the start, but by the time P.A. #3 had left the company, everyone at the executive floor had been forced to change their minds.
For whatever reason, their billionaire boss now despised his own surname.
“It must be why Serenity quit as well,” Andrea said thoughtfully as she and Rachel returned to their station.
“But she always calls him Mr. de Konigh,” her friend argued.
Andrea rolled her eyes. “Silly, it’s not that. Can’t you see? Serenity is Shane Raleigh’s half-sister. The boss and his on-off girlfriend must have had a fight, and that’s why he fired Serenity, and now he doesn’t want anything that reminds him of the Raleigh sisters.”
****
“You look appalling, Willem.” The words, coming from his open laptop, greeted Willem as soon as he slid inside his limousine. Upon hearing them, he immediately glanced at his chauffeur, but the older man studiously avoided Willem’s gaze as he closed the passenger door.
Martin had been frightened into betraying him again, Willem thought grimly. He really should have a word with his chauffeur soon.
“Did you hear what I said?” the voice from the laptop demanded.
Turning to face the laptop, he said blandly, “A pleasant afternoon to you, too, Your Majesty.” He had been dodging her video calls for days, but he should have known Wilhemina wasn’t one to take the hint that he hadn’t wanted to talk to her.
The Queen of Contini only smiled. “Ah, no ‘grandmother’ for me. You are in a testy mood again.”
Her grandson’s face softened a bit. “I am,” he acknowledged wryly, “but never with you, oma.”
If the exchange between grandmother and grandson had been made public, the world would have been in shock. When in company, the queen and Willem were civil but distant with each other, a deliberate choice to conceal just how important the role Willem played in handling de Konigh matters.
Only those who had worked in the palace long enough knew the truth, and that was that Willem was only second to the queen herself with the amount of power and authority he exercised over all members of the de Konigh clan.
“Women problems, no doubt,” Wilhemina murmured.
Willem wasn’t fooled by his grandmother’s tone. “Do not interfere, Your Majesty.” He had no doubt that the queen had already made it her business to find out everything between him and Serenity, who she had always expressed fondness for.
“Ah. So you admit that there is a problem.”
“Oma.” His voice was soft.
She raised her hand in a placating gesture. “Yes, yes, I understand. I shall not meddle.” The twinkle in her eyes faded, and concern lined her voice when she said, “I just want to make sure you are okay, dear.”
“I am.” He changed the subject. “I spoke with Gabe last night, by the way. I don’t believe he’s coming back anytime soon.” As the Crown Prince’s only legitimate son, Gabe was third in line to the throne, and local press had begun to question his prolonged absence from the kingdom.
Wilhemina was quiet for a moment. “We do not need to force him to come back yet,” she said finally, and with her words she let Willem know she was allowing herself to be sidetracked. With this grandson of hers, any interference from her would be considered a slight, an insult to his independence. And after everything he had suffered as a child, Wilhemina knew that she would rather hurt herself than make Willem feel weak again.
When it was time to end the video call, Willem made an effort to sound more his normal self as he bid the queen farewell. “I’ll see you soon, oma.”
“Of course.” But he could see with the way worry still shadowed her faded blue eyes that he had failed. Willem tiredly closed his eyes as he leaned back against his seat.
His life was a fucking mess, and even the queen – who was thousands of miles away – knew this.
Something had to fucking give, but what?
His mobile phone buzzed in his pocket, and after a moment, Willem resignedly took his phone out.
It was a text message from Serenity’s older sister.
****
“You look horrible,” Melanie said by way of greeting when her stepdaughter entered the dining room. She had hoped to draw blood, but as always, her words seemed to fall on deaf ears, with Serenity only smiling wanly as she took her usual place at the table.
Bitch, she thought. She knew that most people thought of her stepdaughter as Willem Jr., and the implication that Serenity was as perfect as the Dutch billionaire irked Melanie to no end.
Had the world gone crazy? Even Willem de Konigh himself knew Serenity was far from perfect. Melanie didn’t believe a single word about her stepdaughter having to resign due to over-fatigue.
Yeah right, Melanie thought with a sneer as she looked at her pale-looking stepdaughter. No doubt, the billionaire had found her lack of personality tiresome and boring, but he was just too much of a gentleman to say so.
The only perfect thing about Serenity was her taste in clothes, Melanie thought grudgingly, but other than that, the girl was perfectly flawed. Ballet had been the only thing the girl had going for her. But no, the idiot just had to break her leg and, in the process, cause Melanie’s ex-husband to kill himself.
The reminder of Daniel Raleigh’s death made Melanie grit her teeth, and she snapped at Serenity, “I’ll need your next month’s rent in advance.” It was this girl’s fault Daniel was dead, this girl’s fault that she no longer had Daniel’s monthly alimony payments and was thus forced to work while her other friends continued to live in the lap of luxury.
“Yes, ma’am.”
The quick acquiescence should have pleased Melanie, but it only made her angrier. “I suppose you’re thinking I’m being greedy?”
“No, ma’am.”
“I could have chosen
not to take the guardianship, you know. I could have let you go to Social Services.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
And so it went on. Serenity was used to Melanie blaming her for everything, and a small part of her believed every word her stepmother uttered.
If she had just danced like Daniel wanted, her father would not be dead. Melanie would still have her money. And she would have only known Willem de Konigh as Shane’s boyfriend.
When Melanie took a deep breath, Serenity wondered absently if it was fine to start eating now. Her stomach had started to rumble, reminding her that she had forgotten to eat anything since returning home.
Telling herself she had nothing to lose, Serenity started to reach for the ladle to have some soup—
“Have you no manners?” Melanie hissed. “We should wait for your sister!”
Serenity quickly pulled her hand back and placed it on her lap. “I’m sorry.” She didn’t even consider reminding Melanie that she hadn’t known about Shane joining them, knowing it would only anger her stepmother more.
The minutes passed, and there was still no sign of Shane. Her stomach rumbled for the third time, now loud enough for Melanie to hear. She felt her stepmother glaring at her, but Serenity deliberately kept her gaze trained on her plate, pretending dumb ignorance.
Two more years, Serenity thought, trying to rally herself. Daniel Raleigh’s will had been pretty specific and in keeping with his controlling personality. Serenity was to be awarded full access to her trust only if she continued to live with her stepmother until she was twenty-one. Otherwise, she was on her own until she turned thirty.
Two more years, just two more years, Serenity repeated to herself. But the more she thought about it, the more she was thinking maybe the money wasn’t worth it. Maybe she should just take the risk and leave. Not just her stepmother’s house but Netherlands. If she started fresh somewhere else, she might have an easier time forgetting the humiliating way she had thrown herself at a man who didn’t want her.