Healing Love: A Billionaire Romance (Forever Us Book 2)

by Bianca Borell

  Sophia, the one woman I would have never thought to fall for. She keeps me enthralled with her electric eyes and dares me to be the man the woman in her wishes me to be. I comply as I’m incapable of escaping Sophia du Sky. She sways to me, her body, a perfect place to get lost in. She cranes her neck and says, “You’re up to something.”

  “If I tell you, you might disagree.” She stares at me, unfazed, giving me the impression she knows exactly what I’ll do. I shake my wayward thoughts away. This is the du Sky princess.

  “Will it work?”

  “I’m doing my damn best.”

  She rises to her toes and pecks me in the corners of my lips.

  I wrap my hands around her waist and press my lips onto her full ones, our tongues colliding. I’m halfway through the door, when I admit over my shoulder, “I think I’m falling for you.”

  A mix of emotions crosses her eyes. I furrow my brows at her as her finger draws around the little scars marring her inside arm. One second later, it vanishes, and she resurfaces from a place I can’t reach.

  Who was he? She tilts her head daring me to say more, and I comply, “I know I’m falling for you, Sophia.”

  “Better.” She smiles at me, and I chuckle.

  “I’ll be back in a few days.”

  “And I’ll take care of them.”

  I shut the door behind me, glad at least one aspect in my life isn’t tainted by the outside.

  In the next few days, I study every move Monica makes. I can’t believe she fooled them for so long. Her routine, perfected to the second, gives her crazy tendencies away.

  Every day at seven in the morning, she leaves her condo and grabs a cup of coffee on the way. She works for the next nine hours, and then she goes home, changes, goes for a drink at the bar on the corner.

  I thought she would be more of a challenge, but she makes it so damn easy for me I can’t hide my winning grin.

  Thursday night finds me plastered on a Victorian armchair peering outside the lobby at people checking in and out.

  A shadow casts over me. I crane my neck and acknowledge Liam, wearing his usual attire—black jacket, shirt, and jeans. We jerk our chins in a greeting, and he takes the seat next to me, his eyes scanning from my smartphone to me. He runs his hands down his face and fists them. Before I can ask myself what made him lose his coolness, he sets the black envelope on the old-style wooden table.

  “You did it.” He arches an eyebrow at me, his dark blue eyes narrowing at me.

  “Did you expect another outcome? Don’t insult me.”

  “If someone can pull something like this off, it’s you.”

  “In the envelope are the contracts you need with the cancellation. Who sabotages everything he has worked for?” He grips the armrest, and his knuckles whiten. Is it a rhetorical question more for him or me?

  “A man on the road to ruin, I guess. Love, but you wouldn’t know a thing about it.” His eyes snap at me, his eyes flashing to my screen, and his posture tenses. The screen pops with a call from work when I reject it, Sophia smiles at me from the screen.

  “Would it surprise you if I told you the only woman I love is with the only man I’ve respected enough not to interfere? Don’t judge me, it’s been years, Alex.”

  I frown and stare at him. I’ve changed, why can’t he?

  “So, business going well?”

  “Information, connection, and favors never go out of business.” Something tugs at me. It’s his appearance, how he tries to mask how disheveled he’s on the inside, that scraps at my conscience to ask, but mostly it’s guilt for not wanting to know.

  “Liam, you were the only one I’ve ever been able to call a true friend. My responsibilities demanded me to decide. I didn’t decide against you, I let it be where it belongs, in the shadows where you rule.” His muscles flex behind his shirt, and he bends toward me.

  “If I considered even for a second you had another agenda, I wouldn’t be here helping you.”

  “We chose what meant more to us, I guess.” I scratch my chin.

  He zips his jacket, eyeing my phone one more time, and I narrow my eyes at him in question.

  “I hope I’ll never need your help again.”

  “Here’s another difference between us. I’d never hold it against you if you did.”

  We shake hands, and when I touch the little package, I breathe relieved.

  “You have five minutes and no longer. The white syringe impairs the person’s movements but acts as a truth serum too. You’ll have a very pliable, slightly sluggish person in front of you. The blue one is to counter the effects of the first. If you wait to administer the blue one after five minutes, that person is dead or a vegetable in the best-case scenario. Both can occur, but no one can trace it back, and her blood test results won’t show any sign of being drugged.”

  Let’s see how she likes being played.

  “Thank you, man.”

  He disappears into the night, taking with him all my dark secrets. They’re safe with him like his are with me. A code one has to live by.

  **

  In her condo, I wait, my back against the wall. Keys juggle and I rush behind the door as adrenalin pumps through me at full speed, allowing me to carry on with the plan and giving me the necessary focus. The door creaks open, but like most people, she comes in unaware of the danger hidden behind her four walls. My hand flies to cover her mouth. I poke her neck with the syringe, my precision and rapidity mastered to perfection.

  Her mouth snaps open to shout, but the second the serum reaches her bloodstream, it subdues her. “You . . .” she croaks.

  I drag her to the brown leather couch. Panic swims in her eyes as she mumbles, “What did you do to me? Why can’t I react?”

  I sit on the seat in front of her and say, “Your mind screams there’s a danger, but the drug I gave you tricks your body not to react.” My eyes skim from my watch to her. “You have five minutes to give me what I want.” I pluck the other syringe from my jacket, place it on the table, and lean into the seat. “A moment more, you’ll either become a vegetable or die. Your choice.”

  “I would’ve never expected it to come from you. If it weren’t me in this predicament, I’d appreciate it.” Sincerity shines in her round eyes, and it chills me. “Let me guess, you’re doing this for Bria. Unrequited love sucks, right? I know the feeling. Why are you doing this?”

  I snatch the annulment agreement and a pen from my jacket and present them to her.

  Defiance brews in her eyes, and she spits, “You’re insane if you think I’ll sign it. You’ll never get away with this. When I gain back the control over my body, I’ll make you regret this.”

  I bend in the seat and tap on the chair as her eyes widen at my relaxed composure. “Do you have the slightest idea who you’re talking to? I’m far more dangerous than your obtuse mind could even fathom. But let me tell you since time is ticking, and my pleasure begins.”

  I start the recorder on my phone. “Did you order someone to drug Bria and set her up on her eighteenth birthday?”

  “Yes, I did. Wait a second, why the heck am I telling you this?” Panic transforms her face, and I smirk at her.

  “Now you get it. I’m your nightmare coming true. Don’t play a game in which you don’t know your opponents.” Her mouth opens and clamps. It reminds me of a fish, slippery, on the shore and not in its element. “Why did you do it?”

  “I hate her. I’ve always hated her. I wanted what she had starting with Damien.”

  “Tell me what your goal was that evening.”

  “Her to die.” I ball my hands into fists and drag in a lungful of air.

  I rub my chin, when my anger lowers, I ask, “You planned to kill your own cousin?”

  “Yes, and I would have succeeded if I’d hired someone better. But like with every man, he couldn’t do it to my angelic cousin, so I set her up instead. Which had also benefited me more than expected. I have her man in my hands and her legacy. I win.”
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br />   “Not as long as I’m around. With you dead or being a nutcase, the contract is void. Even without your signature, I’ve gotten what I want. Rot in hell, Monica. Enjoy the last sixty seconds of your miserable life.”

  She spits in my face with her resistance, but the joke is on her, and her features melt into acceptance. Fascinating to catch the exact second a person realizes there’s no way out. At that moment, you’re the master of their lives. I rise to my feet, and she blurts, “Wait. What happens if I sign it?”

  The sweet taste of victory grazes my tongue, and a smile slips passed my lips. I gesture at her and say in a matter-of-fact tone, “You’ll stay alive.”

  She pleads with me, as if it will help her. “But I’ll have nothing . . . no Damien, no money, and no position. No anything. I will lose everything I’ve worked for.”

  Anger swirls inside me and I tap my Dubois watch. “With offering you a chance, I’m far more reasonable than you deserve. Think fast, only thirty seconds left. Take it or leave it.” Monica throws me a deadly look, but it doesn’t faze me. I have her, and she knows it.

  She picks up the pen and scribbles her signature on the papers. As promised, I pull the other syringe out of my pocket, I arch over her and poke her skin for the second time, and relief seeps through her. When I grab the doorknob, her voice drops to threatening, her stance a predatory one.

  “You bastard. I’ll make you pay, there’s no way I’ll let you have your way.”

  “Not a great feeling to be the one on the receiving end.” She squints those filled-with-hatred eyes at me. “Before I leave, let me refresh your memory and tell you exactly how things will go from now on.” She crosses her hands over her chest, her nose stuck up, and I narrow my eyes at her.

  “The contracts you signed with Damien are irrelevant. I tore and burned them. What you signed is a backup. I’ve another backup, too, the recording of your confession and planning a murder.” She grits her teeth at me, realizing her predicament. “Long years in prison may do you well. Believe me, you’ll face it if I want you to. I’m deadly if I have to be. I don’t care what you do and where you go as long as it’s far from Bria, Damien, and their families.” Halfway outside, I add over my shoulder, “Ah, the drugs I gave you, you can try for a test, but let me assure you they won’t find anything wrong, but maybe they’ll put you in a psychiatric ward and try to help your broken and sadistic mind. Although, I suppose the hopes are minor in your case.”

  She points a finger at my face, her nostrils flaring, and spits, “This isn’t over, Alexander.”

  Monica snarls my name, and it would’ve sent shivers down the back of a weaker person, but it does nothing to me as I bare my teeth at her in a fake smile. “You can try, but next time I won’t be as generous.”

  I slam the door behind me and plan my flight back home. With every step, I release Bria to the man her heart belongs to, and I move toward the arms of the woman who found her way into mine. I smile remembering how after I stormed away after my talk with Damien on Bria’s charade of a birthday. Trapped in my own thoughts, I descended the stairs, and crashed into a soft whimpering body. We tumbled, and she landed on me with a hiss snatching my air, a clear reminder my mind was not where it should be. I helped us up and apologized while recognition dawned on me as I stared into way too familiar intense blue eyes. She stared at me dumbfounded and patted the clinging black fabric on her delicate hour-glass frame and mumbled in, I am sure trained to sound offended, a high-pitched voice, “Watch where you’re going, you idiot!”

  For years, I had thought Sophia du Sky was unaware she has no blue blood, and I got to peek behind her dozens of layers of put-together sophistication and royal aloofness. I’ve never met a woman like her. I am curious when she’ll give up the fight with herself. I turned to leave with Sophia poking at my back on my tail. That night was the beginning of us.

  I call her, and she picks up right away. “I’ll be back in two hours. Everything all right?”

  She stammers, her worry ringing in my ears. “I took a bath, and when I checked on Bria, she was gone. She doesn’t answer her phone. I tried hundreds of times.” My heart twitches. I guess the man in me, still loving her, gets hurt at how I never stood a chance with her. So, she gave in unable to fight her heart the second time.

  “She’s on her way to your brother,” I assure her.

  “How do you know?”

  I glance up the twinkling sky. “I know her, Sophia, that’s why.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  I am. I just didn’t want to accept until now she has never been and never will be mine. I’ll love her in an all-encompassing manner as I’m incapable of compartmentalizing my love for her, but I’ll live and try and learn to love someone else.

  BRIA

  With this pain clinging to me, there are few options left—I either succumb to nothingness or fight my way back to life. My problem is as I drag myself up in the bed, I don’t want a life without Damien. With this realization, the pain inflates—an endless cycle of agony holds me captive. I play with my phone pressing both call and end a hundred times.

  My hypnotizing task interrupts when an unknown number flashes on my display. I don’t want to answer, but my instincts nudge me. My words gruff at my throat when I pick up.

  “Hello. Who’s there?”

  “Hello, Bria, Chloe.” My heart speeds up, and I clutch my phone, her fruity voice echoing in the penetrating silence.

  “You’re Damien’s friend.”

  “Best friend, I would say, and the one who’s finally had enough.” I purse my lips, feeling my eyebrow arching at her confidence oozing from the other line. “Let’s meet.”

  “I’m not feeling well.”

  “Understandable, but still. And because I’m such a nice person, I’ll let you pick the location,” she insists.

  “But . . .” I try to find a way out.

  “No buts, it’s eight o’clock. Where shall I meet you in the next hour?”

  Annoyance flares through me at her bossiness. I don’t like it, but what do I have to lose, anyway? At least one problem less if I meet her.

  “Ambassador Pub. Do you know where it is?”

  She lets out a laugh and hisses, incredulity lacing her words. “I should’ve guessed, it’s the place where Damien always took me. Of course, it has something to do with you. See you there. Bye.”

  She hangs up, leaving me staring at my screen, a photo of us on the beach peering at me, and my eyes well up for the umpteenth time. I shower, dab concealer to hide the mountains of dark circles around my heavy, drooping eyes. I choose some sexy lingerie for the sole purpose of giving me some much-needed confidence, put on a pair of worn jeans and a black top and blazer, and pull my hair into a messy bun.

  I can’t remember the last time I looked this bad, but it leaves me unfazed, another reminder of my distress. I peek around but find no sign of Sophia, and I breathe a sigh of relief. I’m sure she would come with me to babysit. It tires me, but she will make a great mother one day.

  I can’t remember the last time I drove as I climb into my white Audi Q5, but for the first time in days, a spark of cheerfulness jolts my numb core. I reach my destination on time, considering I agreed to the meeting an hour ago.

  I inhale a lungful of air and force myself inside the place that holds many dear memories. It’s been too long since I walked into the pub decorated in an English style with long, dark red leather couches and wood panels spread all around. The dim lights create a mysterious ambiance, and a rustic house bar rules over the space. Everything having a modern and glamorous twist. In a remote corner, looking straight at me with a piercing and spirited gaze sits Chloe. The fire in her eyes perfectly fits the red chair she occupies. I stare at her as she’s the person who stands out in a crowd. She’s beautiful but not as one would expect, but instead she possesses a more authentic kind of beauty. Strawberry blond hair reaching her delicate shoulders, emerald eyes with flickers of gold caging you in their depths, and
her head held high.

  The dark wooden floor cracks under my heels as I approach her. When we’re within hearing range, I say, “Hi, I’m Bria, nice to officially meet you, one could say.”

  “Chloe.” Her glossy lips curve into a smile. She clasps my hand in hers, and her voice is delicate but firm.

  An ineptness descends, and I’m glad the waiter arrives to ask what I would like to drink. I order an iced lemon tea while she orders a gin and tonic. As I sip from the cold beverage, Chloe breaks the silence.

  “It’s not something one usually says, but you look like crap. I’m glad because I just came from a man who looks even worse than you.”

  My shoulders sag. I shut my eyes, showing the misery in the pit of my stomach and slump further into the leather fabric.

  “It was a test. I wanted to see your reaction. You really love him.” I snap my gaze to her, and a blush creeps on her prominent cheeks. “To be honest, I had my reservations.”

  She plops her elbows on the table, tilting her head. “So, here’s my problem with you, Bria. You love him, and he has only ever loved you. I witnessed him in a similar sad and devastating state when he thought you cheated on him. Well, now it’s a hundred times worse than the first time because it was his own stupidity that sabotaged his chance of happiness.” She throws the transparent liquid down her slender throat, and her eyes clash on mine.

  “I called you here because I’m not capable of putting him back together. I tried. I even had to put him in a shower and feed him as he mumbled your name like a broken record.” Her fingers glide over her empty glass, where a lone cucumber slice lays abandoned at the bottom. “I presumed it would pass, one, two bottles of his Macallan whiskey, and in a while, he’d crawl out of his cave, but he’s perfectly lucid.”

  Her words slice me, and my heart crushes. “It’s his best form of punishment yet, giving himself no reprieve from the pain that wrecks him. He vegetates on the couch every day in the same position, eyes shut. He leans on the backrest with his face resting in one hand as the other strokes that damn empty glass as if it’s his darling, no offense.”