Shattered Love : A Billionaire Romance (Forever Us Book 1)

by Bianca Borell

  I guess three years are not long enough not to plunge into old addictions from the very first moment I am presented with a fix. My reaction angers me more than anything else about the fucked-up situation as I grit my teeth. Her fingers freeze in my hand while her hazel eyes tear through me.

  I drop her hand, and she rests against Alexander as if she belongs there. I could tell by the grin he sends in my direction, and the look of pleasure on his features as my hands draw into fists in my pockets. I am a glutton for punishment because I want to hear her silvery, melodious voice, searching for something that has remained the same.

  “Welcome back, Bria . . . or should I say, stranger?” I itch to make her feel uncomfortable, but she gives nothing away as I lean into her.

  “Thank you . . .” She pauses as if pained or worse as she fights to say my name out loud. “Damien.” My name, the sound of ruin flows from her bow-shaped mouth, drives me to my knees. I’ve kissed it a thousand times, dreamed of her lips even more. The lips that were mine, but now kiss another man. How is it possible for my heart to be this stupid and still beat for her? I fight with my control so hard, my insides rattle.

  “I’m sure you’re glad to be home again.”

  “Yes, of course, I am,” she rushes to say. And the moment our eyes meet, my eyebrow raises as she sinks her stare for a second before bringing herself back under control. Someone has worked on her lies because she could have fooled everyone else, but not me. When you have known a person better than yourself, no time can change your ability to detect the merest deceit from a mile away. She is not my Bria anymore because the Bria I knew was incapable of dishonesty. But now, here she stands, proud and tall, wearing a navy dress with a slit on the side, where a creamy thigh peeks out and lies to my face. Why did she come back if not even for her own family, then?

  “You’ll be the head of the management division. Are you prepared for the task?” I challenge as I tower over her.

  “I wouldn’t be here otherwise, believe me,” she drawls, and Alexander smirks as if he couldn’t be any prouder of her.

  It is my signature, inked in blood, on the papers that gave her the position. Of all the documents I had to sign, only the one appointing her gives me a sour taste and burns my throat like it’s pure acid. It took me hours to come to terms with it as I was a mess of anger and frustration, pacing through my office, cramming a fist into my mouth, shouting inside. I couldn’t deny her the role, but I remained hopeful I could make her crawl back to whatever traitorous hole she has resurfaced from.

  “We’ll have to trust you, won’t we?”

  If nothing gets to her, this one word, trust, should manage to slip under her cold façade, and for a brief moment, she sighs. “You don’t have to trust me, Damien. Trust my work ethic, professionalism, and irreproachable résumé.”

  Minus her absolutely perfect résumé, I would have fought more before I accepted her back in the company and entrusted her with the programs, activities, and resources for the company’s future developments and long-term goals. I perused her CV, strictly professional, of course, but all that kept popping up is how driven she is, how diligent and fast she works toward her goals. From graduating ahead of her class to climbing to her current managerial position at Holex, all in three years. I expected nothing less, but I also detect a workaholic, and she definitely turned into one. One thing we still have in common. How I would have loved it if she had to start from scratch again. Years and years of torture. But I guess it would remain just wishful thinking. So fucking easy for her to speak of trust!

  I let my control loose and snarl, “We need to talk.”

  Alexander’s mouth opens, but she shakes her head and silences his protest. She nods in my direction and whispers it won’t take long. He pleads with his eyes for her not to leave with me, but she follows my lead nonetheless. And because I enjoy his distress, I respond to him over my shoulder, “Don’t worry. I will take care of her for you in your absence.” Sarcasm drips from my tongue, and I smirk as he pierces me with a threatening look.

  “That was unnecessary and childish,” she counters.

  “Whatever.”

  “You’re still the same, I see.”

  This one statement and my blood boils. I halt as she bumps into me. Her apology makes me move once again. Who the fuck does she think she is? I stride toward the other terrace for a little privacy, plus I want no one else to witness my sorry state.

  “I thought we were going to your room.”

  Do I hear just the slightest hint of disappointment?

  “You’ll never set foot in that room ever again. You lost the right quite a while ago.”

  Is she delusional to say such nonsense?

  The clinking of her heels halts as if shocked by my harsh reaction, but she catches herself and resumes following my trail. “Where are we going, then?”

  “Where we won’t be disturbed until we agree on some ground rules, and then you can go back to your lover boy.”

  In the corner of my eye, I spot her twitching.

  A line of magnolias and mountain oaks enclose the terrace behind the mansion. Beyond, there is a meadow, and in the middle, a wooden bench overlooking Lake Zürich. I inhale a lungful of the floral and fresh scent, but with her in the serene and peaceful spot, I have to battle for just one ounce of comfort. What angers me most is how perfectly her beauty matches this place. I am reminded of all the times we spent here together. Images of us together jumping in the lake, dancing under the stars, of stolen kisses and whispered promises invade my mind. A video replays as if I’m tied to a chair with my eyes stretched open, tortured to see it on repeat. The pain left from every memory slices at my heart. I drag a hand down my face and indicate she should sit on the bench as I shamelessly allow myself to stare at her bare legs. Her dress hugs her alluring frame while I lean on an old oak facing her. I shut my eyes to regain a bit of self-restraint and sanity before the affliction begins.

  Her gaze follows miles away as she tucks her hands in her lap, and her legs dangle in front of her. Bria appears lost in this place and far off, so aloof I don’t know if I could catch up with her. How do you initiate a conversation with the one who was once the love of your life and is now the reason for your misery? Time doesn’t cure. That may be humanity’s biggest lie. Time merely numbs, but when you have to face the same thing that once created it, the wound is even bigger, and the blood you bleed is even thicker. Time cannot mend what life seized from you. There is no justice and no doing good when the worst has already shattered you. Time only alters your perspective—the older you remains in the past, and the stronger, new you more adaptable to pain emerges. The callous, uneven crust of the tree pricks at my skin through my dark blue suit jacket. The slight discomfort grounds me as I unzip my mouth to ask the first question.

  “Why now, after three years, have you decided to come back?”

  She tilts her head up. “I finished my studies, got some experience in the field. Working in the company is what we were always supposed to do. I am here to do my part.”

  It sounds like a damn interview. My stomach turns with this charade of politeness.

  “So, all business?”

  “What motive should I have then?”

  Her hazel eyes bore into me, penetrating every chamber of my cold soul as shivers overtake the first layer of my skin. She jumps to her feet, and there is maybe an arm’s length of physical distance between us. She exposes her palms and points in my direction. Her nearness sends electroshocks through my system.

  “How should I know when it comes to you? It’s not like you’re trustworthy. I don’t want you to mess up what I’ve accomplished these last years while you were entertaining yourself in America.”

  Just for a second, she interrupts our staring contest and gazes over my shoulder, overseeing everything and nothing at all, and locks her eyes briefly. Her small sigh goes straight to my contracting heart. What the fuck was that?

  “You don’t have to worry about your h
ard work. I’ll do mine, and you’ll keep doing yours. You rule all of it from England, and I’ll rule over my segment as was settled long ago, from here. I won’t ruin anything.”

  “The problem is, we know you have this tendency, though.” She cranes her neck and raises her eyebrows in challenge. For one moment, I catch a spark of the old Bria rise from the depth she buried in her, the one with bite, and it is a brilliant vision.

  “Still living much in the past?”

  Does this woman have no self-preservation?

  She’s taunting a lion in an open cage. “It’s long over. Can’t you forget about it?”

  I stride to her, towering over her like a vengeful angel. “What should I forget first? The part where you fucked me over when you slept with someone else? Or the part where you ran like a coward from your responsibilities, leaving a mess behind you? Are you an idiot to think people just forget when someone screws them over?”

  It feels so wrong to insult her, so unnatural, and still, I couldn’t rein it in. Everything I have kept sealed for so long demands to surface and be set free. To be reassured, I don’t have foam in the corners of my mouth. I wipe the imaginary spit with the back of my hand. Just fucking perfect! Her whole face radiates understanding, and rage takes over once again. Just a vicious cycle. The old her would have given me hell for my reaction. She would have never allowed me to cross the line to begin with. We’ve both changed, but I still debate what to make of hers.

  “Damien, I didn’t come home expecting forgiveness or a warm welcome. I came for one reason. There is no hidden agenda if that’s what you think.”

  I point my finger at her face as I snarl, “What you did is unforgettable. At least you are realistic enough to see it. You are entitled, like any of us, to be a part of the family empire. The moment I signed your appointment, there was nothing I could do but hand it to you. But, if you make one mistake, I will destroy you and send you away. You should never have come back. We managed just fine without you.”

  I act like a jerk, but she uncorked my anger with her arrival, putting me face to face with her—my greatest weakness and my sore spot. I spew my venom at her, and not even her slight tremor ends my tantrum. I submerge in a bottomless sea of hate, hurt, and agonizing pain, all resurrected by her returning with another man.

  “Does this help you? Go on. I mean, you’ve bottled up your wrath for three years, and now you have the perfect occasion to release a bit of the steam. No one is here to witness it. Look around us. We are alone.” To emphasize her words, she draws a circle with her hands and makes a full pirouette.

  She provokes me, and I pick at it. “You don’t even deserve it because you are nothing to me. You are nothing and no one to me. I release steam by fucking women whose only goal is to please me. Thank you for expanding my horizon. It has kept me quite entertained.”

  Bria flinches, her shoulders sink, her eyes widen, and her lower lip quivers. She backtracks two steps, and her bottom knocks the bench spot as her palms grip the sides of it until her knuckles whiten. It shouldn’t bother me, but her pain pulls at mine and wrenches me. In two long strides, I reach her and lift her chin. Bria eyes me with dull and glassy eyes. It guts me as my hands drop to my sides. I don’t take my words back. I am not a good man anymore. She has to acknowledge it. I am offering her a way out, to leave and not come back as I don’t have her best interests at heart, but I know she won’t. Our mutual pain roots us, and there is no escape for neither of us.

  Feeling calmer than ever with this newfound epiphany, I rein myself in not to confess that no woman could ever compare to her. She used to be my all, and I worshiped her as she deserved. Then, we both had love in our hearts and made love with our bodies. The many women I have been with after her, trying to forget, were just a means to an end. With every one of them, I wanted to achieve only one thing—to erase Bria from my body until my skin couldn’t remember what it felt like to be above her, under her, in her tightness and warmth, and surrounded by her addictive, sweet scent. But now, she will never know how I truly feel. I have one mission-to bring her the same unbearable pain surging through me. We backtrack from the other only to inch toward the other the following instant.

  “I am happy for you, glad you found your completion.” Her words leave me speechless. She hadn’t come to fight or reason with me but to offer me the closure she denied me three years before. I grab her arms and put my forehead over hers, inhaling her delicate perfume. A single tear slides from my eyes. Our hot breaths mingle as I fight a losing battle as my desire to be near her clouds my mind. I yearn for one moment of something, anything, from her. I tip her chin up with my forefinger for her to detect in my eyes what she ruptured in me.

  She shudders as her eyes fill with tears, her soft finger brushing the wetness from under my eyes. Whatever transcends between us wrecks me.

  “I hate you, Bria, with the same intensity I once loved you. My hatred is endless as my love for you once was. You shattered me, and I will ruin you.”

  Bria has the look of a woman who knows she caused my downfall and agrees to it with a nod, igniting my desire to take something back from her. I lean in and do the unthinkable. My control slips as my heart has its own agenda and desires. My trembling fingers caress the face of my beautiful, dark angel, and my starved mouth finds hers. She parts her lips a second later in an invitation, a moan fleeing from her. It fuels me, and I go wild. I take and take until I cage her soul inside my own—my way of preparing her for what’s coming.

  My kiss isn’t a sweet, pure, and full-of-love kind of kiss, but a kiss of hatred, destruction, and downfall. I devour her with insatiable greed and masochistic pleasure. It is how I want to end our connection—in ashes.

  I push her against the tree. She gasps, and my hungry mouth sucks the sweetness of her tongue. I dig my fingers into her waist as she tugs at my hair. Our entire beings battle over a shuttered love.

  I pull myself from her web of ruin and stop after making it clear it’s me in control. I smirk at her widened-eyes expression. There is no point in tormenting me further.

  The moment our swollen lips stopped touching, we both look down as if seeking the connection we have just ended. Her pouty lips are void of the lipstick I am sure is smeared on my lips. I get my confirmation when Bria’s fingers try to nuzzle it away, and then our heads drop.

  “What are you looking for?” I ask, my tone dropping to irritation.

  “You should know. You did the same. But I’m sure we were looking for completely different things at our feet.”

  “And what would that be?” I challenge.

  She peers at me through her curled lashes as if asking herself if she should tell me. But still, she answers, brave as always, the first thing to remind me this stranger in front of me is still Bria.

  “It has always been and always will be you. I searched for a time passage, maybe a parallel universe, silly me. And you sought for ways to make me bleed because of the pain you think was only one-sided. But all we saw was a connection, a thin and stubborn line we’re incapable of destroying, and this is what you hate the most.” She inches toward me like a lioness, graceful and lethal as I stand there immobilized as she rises on her tiptoes, looking straight in my eyes. “No time, no insults, and no distance could ever alter our bond. So, please, make me burn. Let’s see if my ashes at your feet will appease you.”

  Her words have me rooted in place, and I tip my head.

  “Never thought you’d become a quitter.”

  “You’re too late. Life got here before you. There is no need for me to prove my strength to you.”

  “Then it’s the beginning of the end for you.”

  She places her hand on my chest as if to keep from scaring me away. “No, Damien. There’s no beginning and no end. There can’t be a beginning or an end in nothingness.”

  “And you caused it.”

  “And I caused it.”

  “Why don’t you try to apologize then, to say you’re sorry or any of the other
crap people say in such a situation?” I clasp my hand behind my neck, my eyes fixated on hers.

  She sighs before answering, and my fingers rush to cradle her face. “Because, as true as they may be, no words will erase what I did. It will still be there, demanding its price in pain all over again. The only difference is it will be yours, not mine.”

  My fingers glide over her velvety cheek, the opposite of my harsh words.

  “So kind of you to consider my feelings, but all the regrets in the world won’t deter me from the plans I have for you.”

  She shakes her head and squeezes my hands in her small ones. Warmth spreads through me, rocking my entire being.

  “Forget about me and revenge and making me feel anything at all because, in the end, you’ll lose. If you want me gone, find your happiness.”

  She peels my palms from her face and spins on her heel, leaving me standing there like a complete idiot, her long hair fluttering in the breeze as her flowery scent lingers around me. Bria leaves me again. I watch her as she strides back into the house, one foot graciously put in front of the other.

  I have no idea who this woman is anymore. Her sweetness turned to harsh edges, and where once her brightness came from her in waves, there is a coldness she embraces full force. I watch her as she strolls back into the house, one foot graciously put in front of the other. I can detect the burned path her steps leave behind her.

  Here I stand, dumbfounded and craving one goal, to make the dark queen burn and me along with her. It is my stubborn way of finding a place we might call home, common ground among deserted pieces of our shattered and scattered love.