The Billionaire's Island: A BWWM Billionaire Romance (International Alphas Book 3)

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The Billionaire's Island: A BWWM Billionaire Romance (International Alphas Book 3) Page 10

by Cherry Kay


  The first few days, it almost drove him insane, the thought that he wasn’t even worth a farewell from her. He had invested emotionally, and that was how she had repaid him. The only good thing to come out of it was that she had given him that driving need for vengeance, and it didn’t have to be directed at her. David had funneled it into getting his reputation and his company back. Time Magazine had written an article about him entitled “The King gets back his Crown”, and his company’s stocks soared after news of his reinstatement broke.

  He buried himself back into neck-deep work, enjoying the sleepless nights and long hours, knowing he was back in his element. He didn’t need anything else, and he highly disliked the increasing press releases about him being a ‘hunky nerd’. He was inundated with flirtations, which he ignored, knowing his true purpose was to keep his company intact and well-received.

  He didn’t need a person to ruin the pace and peace he had gotten back, ever again.

  *

  Caryn’s eyes snapped open as soon as the train came into a screeching halt. It was past ten in the evening, and she quickly got out of it, running up a dingy flight of stairs and out into the cold air. She walked three more blocks to get to an old, but serviceable looking apartment building, where an Asian grocery stood at the first floor, apart from a laundromat.

  She reached the second floor, and rang the bell to the first door on her right. “Mrs. Chao?”

  “Coming,” an elderly woman’s voice said. “You’re early today,” her landlady remarked, as soon as she opened the door. She stepped into the apartment that smelled of soy sauce, and baby’s milk, among other things.

  “I’m sorry, it’s late again.”

  “Nonsense,” Mrs. Chao said, “I said I’d help you around, besides, she’s a good girl, isn’t she?” the old lady said, bending a little to grab the baby on the little wooden cot. “Very pretty too. You ate already? We have left over dumplings.”

  “Oh, no thanks, Mrs. Chao. You taking care of Emilia’s more than enough, really,” Caryn said, taking the sleeping baby from her. She grabbed the baby bag as well, and walked up another flight of stairs to get to her single bedroom apartment.

  Emilia stirred in her sleep, and Caryn tiptoed for the cot beside her bed, gently placing her down. She looked at her baby, an unexpected miracle, and realized she was beginning to look like her father, with her bluish eyes- except for the hair, Emilia had her hair.

  Caryn grabbed a macaroni soup pack for dinner, popping it in the microwave. While she waited, Caryn quickly spread her work on the table. It wasn’t easy, and she could only work part-time, and the newspaper she had worked for, let her go as soon as they found out she was pregnant. She was hired as temp office staff for some congressman who was running the third time, and at night, she wrote articles for online newspapers. Lack of sleep was evident, but Caryn never complained. She was doing this for Emilia, her darling Emilia.

  She hadn’t expected she would be maternal, she hadn’t expected that she would love someone so fiercely, and she hadn’t expected pregnancy at all. It had come as a shock, and she was scared like crap, afraid of what to do, how to handle it. She had briefly contemplated abortion, but when she pushed through with her pregnancy, and finally held Emilia in her arms, she was filled with deep remorse for such ugly thoughts.

  Her baby was the most beautiful baby, and no one knew, except for a handful of her acquaintances and newer friends. Even her father didn’t know that he was now a grandfather. She was the constantly tired and constantly overworked single mother who enjoyed doing what she did. She was glad she didn’t even have to leave Emilia to unknown people in a daycare center.

  Her landlady was a sweet old woman, whose kids had left for college. Her husband enjoyed managing the Asian grocery below, and she was a bored housewife, who gladly took on daycare duties while Caryn worked. She didn’t pay Mrs. Chao enough, but Mrs. Chao loved Emilia too much to even demand for pay. Caryn slipped what she could spare along with the rent.

  Caryn’s eating habits had become a bit healthier, but she couldn’t help with the instant food once in a while, but while pregnant, she was determined to shove in more greens and fruits than she had ever had in her life. Emilia was sound asleep, and she quickly ate her late dinner, hoping to finish two articles, so the paycheck would be constant. This was how her mother had struggled before, and the situation mirrored her present. It wasn’t easy, but she was determined to live until Emilia bore her grandkids of her own.

  “We’ll pull through this, Emilia,” she thought, looking at her baby once more, before she sat down for work.

  *

  David woke up from his nap, glad to escape from a bad dream. Sometimes, he still dreamed of that storm in the island, that terrible storm, where a house almost collapsed entirely…

  “Sir, would you like anything to drink?” the flight stewardess asked him.

  He disliked flying premier, and preferred the anonymity of economy, but the company he was doing business with had bought him a ticket already. He didn’t tell them he had his own jet, of course, lest he waste their money.

  “Water,” he replied, “Thanks.”

  He hadn’t been to New York in a while, and cross-country flights weren’t his thing, but work was work, and he was passionate with what he did. He worked on the plane, knowing he had a couple of hours more to kill, and one man in the same premier class shook hands with him, telling him his database format was brilliant. That part made him happy. He wanted to be recognized for work, and not for the magazines and newspapers that portrayed him scathingly, or praised him like he was some sort of tech-messiah.

  Two hours later, his plane landed, and a limousine was waiting for him at the airport, much to his chagrin. He was sent off to his five-star hotel, a hotel he hadn’t been to since he had been a fledgling ‘techpreneur’.

  As soon as he got to his room, he set about making a few calls. The meeting was still tomorrow, and he had an entire night of rest and recreation, if he wanted to. He didn’t want to party, of course, and he decided to take a walk around the city. Christmas was in the air, and New York was filled with unlit Christmas décor and snow flurries, and people shopping and carolers singing. He paid no attention to them, and he set off to find a good snack for himself.

  The limousine was at his disposal. but he demurred, preferring to walk. The next day was a Saturday, and he figured a walk in the cold would bring about an appetite for a few shots of whisky later at the hotel bar. He was walking down a block filled with restaurants, and he enjoyed the smells that lingered in the air. He needed coffee, he figured, it was only two in the afternoon. He took a pause, seeing a small bookshop that reminded him of Shakespeare and Company in France. Cute, friendly, and filled with vintage books. He couldn’t resist and went inside. . There were a few people there. and a bit cramped, but he loved the atmosphere all the same.

  He heard a baby cry a bit, and he rolled his eyes, disliking the noise to his personal downtime. A woman hushed the baby to quiet, in her slightly husky, but sweet voice, and he stopped in his tracks, taking a deep breath. There was the shuffling of feet and what sounded like a stroller, and it entered the same path he was in. He held his breath, seeing Caryn, with a stroller in hand.

  “Jesus,” he breathed out.

  Caryn looked up, her mouth agape, her eyes as wide as his. He heard a loud gasp from her, and saw her knuckles whiten from the sudden grip on the stroller. “D-David?” she whispered.

  David looked at her, and then back at the stroller, comprehension dawning on him. This was her baby wasn’t it? It wasn’t his, right? They hadn’t seen each other in years. She must’ve dated someone right after she had left him! Jesus, she had a baby! Caryn was right in front of him!

  “How- how have you been?” he quickly said, unable to say anything else.

  She looked at the baby, and then back at him, as if he was the stupidest person to ever grace New York. David was apprehensive to take a step forward, afraid to see the baby
. There was a small voice telling him that she couldn’t have dated anyone else right away. She wasn’t that kind of person… but then again, what did he know about her? For all he knew, she was already married or divorced or hung up over a guy and they had recently gotten back together. How recent was this?

  “I’ve been okay…” she responded, her voice trailing off.

  Neither took a step forward. David took another breath in. “Is that- is that yours?”

  Caryn held a breath, and she nodded. “Yeah, she’s all mine.”

  “Congratulations,” he stammered, feeling awkward. He realized he was losing self-control, he was losing face. Gone was his practical, no-nonsense and business-like demeanor. He didn’t know what else to say. “It’s been too long--” “A year,” Caryn said, “well almost a year…”

  Yes, they last saw each other on the December 25th… He shook his head. “Where are my manners?” he gave a short, nervous laugh. “You wanna pass through?”

  “Yes,” she replied, tightlipped.

  He cleared this throat. “Are you- busy?”

  She shook her head. “I’m just walking around with Emilia.”

  Of course, the little thing had to have a name. He still didn’t want to look at the baby, but he had to face the inevitable. He saw that there were two couches behind her, and a table. Word vomit came out. “Can- can I see her?”

  Caryn looked surprised, but she nodded, backing away for the corner. David let her take a seat first, after she maneuvered the stroller around to face him. He took a seat, feeling relieved his knees didn’t buckle while he stood. His eyes flickered over to the baby, who was holding onto a bottle of milk.

  He stared at her, paying attention to the details. She was wrapped in a little sweater, and she even had a little beanie on her head, but he could see that her hair was wavy and dark. She had bright eyes, eyes that were a darker blue, darker than his at least. She gurgled, finishing her milk, and Caryn took it from her little chubby fingers. He couldn’t say anything at first, and Caryn was silent as well.

  David tentatively reached a hand out, hovering it over the baby’s face. Emilia was her name, wasn’t it? Emilia grabbed a finger of his, and she was surprisingly strong. His gasped and withdrew his hand away, and the baby cooed and smiled, showing off her gums.

  He couldn’t stand it any longer. He cleared his throat again. He had to know. “Who’s the father?”

  Caryn’s lips pursed, and she blinked and closed her eyes. She took Emilia from the stroller and put the baby on her lap. “You are,” she simply said, looking at him straight in the eye. “And don’t give me crap about me sleeping with someone else after I left. I’m not in the mood to defend my chastity, whatever is left of it.”

  Well, he wanted to hear it, and he had an inkling he was the father, but to hear her say that, to hear her admit something he didn’t know about until moments ago- and this was something she should have told him the moment she found out she was pregnant! He wasn’t there for the pregnancy, she was alone. He wasn’t there when she gave birth, he wasn’t there when Emilia first cried her lungs out, he wasn’t there for her first smile… He was a father! Damn it, he was a father! He had a baby!

  “How old is she?” he asked, not fully acknowledging what she had said, that he was Emilia’s father. “Is Emilia her full name?”

  “She’s turning 4 months in a few weeks. Christmas day I think,” Caryn responded, wiping a little dribble of milk from Emilia’s chin. “It’s Emilia Alexis.”

  He didn’t know how to calculate when she had gotten pregnant. Shouldn’t he have had Sex Ed classes like this in high school? A fear gripped in him, and he felt like an irresponsible fool. Wasn’t he too young for this? But then again, his mother had been too young, far way younger than his 28. He couldn’t come into terms with it, how could he? There he was, just minding his own business, and now fate had to intervene, and they had to meet in New York, in a small bookshop, and she had to have a baby in tow. A baby that was his.

  His eyes narrowed, knowing Caryn hadn’t given him her full name, or maybe it wasn’t even her real name. “And her family name?”

  “I didn’t place your name on the papers,” she replied quickly.

  She didn’t look like she was sorry. His temper flared a little, but he took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down. “So, I’m the father, and yet you never reached out to me? You never once thought of calling me?”

  “What was I supposed to say to you, David? Hey, you’re a daddy now? Hey, guess what, I found out my periods were as effed up as I thought it’d be, and here I am, carrying your baby?”

  David was silent.

  “Would you have believed me? No, you wouldn’t. You’d want tests, a paternity test or something. Emilia is mine, and mine alone, and you bear no responsibility to her. This is a different kind of commitment, one I thought I never had, and one I could never and won’t ever get from you,” she breathed out.

  David realized she was frustrated about the situation, but then she loved the baby too much to admit it. “What’s your real name?” he found himself asking her. “Are you really Caryn Porter?”

  She nodded. “Partially. I’m Caryn Porter Marshall,” she said, “My father’s name is Walden Marshall.” “Of the Marshall Group of Companies?” his brows rose.

  “That one. The one with a shock of white hair. My mother’s Tamara Porter, used to do modeling, before my father married her in secret, and then he left her after he was threatened to be cut off from the family business, you know, for shacking up with a black woman. My grandmother didn’t like me much. I wasn’t the pedigreed blonde grandchild they wanted to have. And now here I am,” she added with a laugh, “Emilia could just become their favorite, if they knew about her.”

  He shook his head. Jesus, she was from a family that owned majority of the buildings in New York and where else, and he didn’t even know. He had done business with the Marshalls, just not her father, thank god for that… “They don’t know you have a baby?”

  “I haven’t seen my father in years. They probably think I’m dead, for all I care,” she took a deep breath in. “What matters is, I have Emilia. She’s all I need.”

  It stung him, for some reason, that she saw him as an insignificant part of her life, and that he wasn’t needed as a father. The baby cooed again on her lap, her head bobbing back and forth. She looked like a doll, a much too adorable doll…

  “Now that I know that I’m the father, what do you want me to do about it?”

  “Nothing,” she replied, “You’re not part of our lives, David.”

  “If I’m the father, then I should be.”

  “My father was a perfect example of why you shouldn’t be.”

  He grew quiet. Did he have the capacity to be a father to the baby? He couldn’t even acknowledge Emilia as Emilia. She was just a little human, who happened to have his features. Besides, Caryn was being her usual obstinate and liberated self, something that annoyed him still, after a year of not seeing her. Had she always been this stubborn? She wasn’t this stubborn when her cottage collapsed around her…

  “I don’t know your father, but he and I are two different people.”

  “You couldn’t even be bothered to look for me.”

  “You left without telling me,” he told her with a frown. She had no idea how it made him feel.

  “Look,” she breathed out, “It was rude, and I’m sorry, but work happened.”-“

  “I gave you my trust, I didn’t even use my database to look for you, and I didn’t ask anyone to help me look for you. You wanted to be left alone--”

  “I didn’t want to be that alone,” she said in a quiet voice. “But we’re here now, and now you know you’ve got a child, and I’m not asking you for child support-“

  “Cause your pride is getting in the way? Why? Did you get to make your novel? I’m guessing it wasn’t even a novel. You moved there to be closer to me, you wanted to make a story about me.”

  He
saw her eyes flinch. “I tried, and I couldn’t write anything about you, at least not on paper.”

  “So, it’s true then? It wasn’t a novel or some autobiography bullshit you--”

  She looked scandalized. “Emilia can hear you,” she snapped.

  David shook his head, momentarily distracted. “You moved there, to a remote Hawaiian island, to spy on me?”

  “I researched on you for months,” she said, her voice raising, “I was curious about you, and convinced my editor to let me write a piece about you, and I ended up losing my job because I couldn’t give them the results they wanted.”

  He shook his head. “You lost your job because you’re not as valuable as a mother. How has life been treating you since? Where do you work?” He knew he was getting irritated, and he couldn’t help but ask her sarcastic questions.

  “Stop asking me so many questions,” she told him, her lips quivering. “You think you can assume the worst about my life? Because yours is so much better? Congratulations on winning the case, by the way. The article they wrote about you on my former paper was crap. They couldn’t humanize you at all.”

  He stopped in his tracks. She was that kind of writer. It wasn’t some tell-all exposé she had planned, but she had intended to portray him in a different light. He changed his tone. “How have you been?”

  “I’ve had steady work so far. I guess it comes with being a single mom. Why should life make things harder, huh?” she told him, then she looked at her plastic watch. “We have to go.”

  “Where?”

  She shook her head. “Somewhere. How do I say this? It was nice seeing you again?” she told him, placing Emilia back into her stroller.

  “Where do you live?” he pressed on.

  She shook her head. “Whatever happened to us back then, it ended, alright? It’s best we move on with our lives.”

 

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