Four under the Mistletoe: A MFMM Menage Romance (Christmas Billionaire Menage Series Book 2)

by Tia Siren

  Viola named the baby Grady, after her grandfather, and she and her mother and the baby went home three days after he was born. The happiness of being a new mother couldn’t keep the crushing regret from coming back, though, and she found herself looking at the baby often and thinking of James. When it became too much, a month after Grady was born, she bundled him up and went to see James.

  She got into his office building by having security call up to him, and she found him waiting for her as soon as the elevator opened. He arched a brow at the baby she held in her arms, but didn’t say anything until he led her past rows of cubicles and into his private office. The walls were glass, but he pressed a button on a small remote control he kept on his desk, and they darkened.

  “Neat,” Viola said, smiling softly to James as she sat down across from him.

  “You have a baby,” James said.

  “I do.”

  “Boy?”

  “Yes,” Viola said.

  “Is it mine?” James asked, not able to keep the question from springing forth from his lips.

  “I think so,” Viola said, and she shifted the baby so James could see its face.

  “He has my nose,” James said, and he smiled. “What’s his name?”

  “Grady?” Viola said. “Like my-”

  James cut her off. “Grandfather. I remember.”

  Viola didn’t even remember telling James about her grandfather, but she must have, and he had listened, and remembered. It touched her, and with her hormones all out of sorts, it hit her hard, and she felt tears coming. She let them roll down her cheeks, but took a tissue when James slid the box across the desk towards her.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said. “I really messed up.”

  James sat silently for a moment. “If he’s mine, I want to help. He’s mine. I can tell.”

  “The nose,” Viola said with a laugh, and James grinned and nodded. “My father has it, so does my brother.”

  “I don’t know what I was thinking,” Viola said. “It was you. Always you.”

  “I said I want to help,” James said again.

  “I didn’t come here for that,” Viola said. “I don’t want your money.”

  James grinned and nodded. “I know,” he said, adding, “and that’s why I love you.”

  Viola couldn’t speak for a moment. He had told her he loved her. He had never done that. Martin had, and then when she broke up with him, he had yelled and screamed. James liked rough sex, and he had never said it, but now, that he did, she knew he meant it.

  “I love you too,” Viola said.

  “I want to help, and I mean that I want to be with you. I want to raise our child together. No one could fill the spot in my heart that you left behind.”

  Viola was crying more, the tears rushing down her face. She hadn’t known what to expect, but it wasn’t all of that. She had just wanted a man to know he was a father. They had talked about it once before, after sex one night in his apartment, wrapped up together in a bedsheet, naked bodies pressed together. He had told her he wanted kids, but he had never even been married, and he didn’t know if a woman would ever be alright with his lifestyle enough to settle down with him since he could never really settle down. There was always a meeting, always a dinner.

  James stood, and he pulled something out of a drawer in his desk before he walked around and knelt down beside Viola’s chair. He held up a small box.

  “I had bought this a month before you ended things with me,” he said as he opened the box to reveal the largest and most stunning engagement ring Viola had ever seen. “I think I should give it to you now. Will you marry me, Viola?”

  Viola nodded and broke into wild laughter. “Yes,” she said. “Yes of course.”

  James leaned forward and they were kissing. She had missed his lips, his taste, and she felt every old feeling come back to her. They broke the kiss, and James grinned at her.

  “Can I hold my son?” he asked, and Viola laughed and handed him over. She sat there, watching the billionaire holding her son. His son. He looked like a natural, and he stared down at the baby with wonder in his eyes.

  They were married less than a month later, and Viola and Grady moved into the massive apartment on the top floor of the sleek and shining skyscraper. She quit her job at the restaurant, and her days were filled with love. It was everything she had ever wanted, everything she was sure she would never get with Jerome. She thought back to him sometimes, and the gift he had given her. It had hurt that he was the one breaking up with her, but if he hadn’t, she would never have given herself over to her primal desires. She wouldn’t have gone to the club with James, she wouldn't have let him fuck her that night. She wouldn’t have met the love of her life, even though she took a roundabout way of getting to him. In a strange way, she owed her happiness to the unemployed loser who broke her heart. She thanked him on the days she thought of him, but as time went on, those were few and far between.

  *****

  THE END

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  The Russian’s Secret Love Child – Brandy’s Story

  A BWWM Billionnaire Romance

  I nervously toyed with the small porcelain mask I was given. The silver along the edge was starting to come loose from my handling it, and the plumage that jutted from the top was beginning to bend slightly. Still, I felt that nobody would notice the small wear and tear at the masquerade party.

  My driver wasn’t particularly chatty, which was probably for the best, as my Russian was still a little rusty. So, I took out my phone again and checked the time. It was just a little past eight in the evening. The night air slipping through the slightly-open window was crisp and refreshing, and it helped me clear my head a little.

  The car turned down a driveway, and we passed a pair of ornate iron gates. We came to a full stop, and a pair of well-dressed and muscular men approached the window.

  “Invitation,” they ordered.

  I pulled the glossy paper invitation from my clutch purse and held it up.

  The talkative of the two men snatched it and examined it for a moment before passing it back.

  “Enjoy your evening,” he said.

  I nervously rolled the window up and affixed the mask to my face. I really doubted that it would hide my real identity. My gown for the evening left little to the imagination, and the mask wouldn’t hide my dark skin.

  As we continued to drive, the estate came into view. It was possibly the largest house I’d ever laid eyes on. It may as well have been called a castle, as the brickwork alone made it appear to be so. Massive windows stared at anything that dared pass their gaze, and it felt like it wasn’t just the windows doing the staring. Lights erupted from the house as though a beacon, both warning and inviting travelers. Guests walked to and fro, drinks in hand and masks planted on their faces, making merry around the looming castle of a house.

  We came to a stop, and my door was tugged open by a well-dressed attendant whom also wore a mask. He provided me a hand and assisted me from the car. My heart began to beat a little harder as my nerves continued to surmount. I inhaled deeply and exhaled, pushing back the nerves for another moment. I had been in situations like this before and wasn’t about to lose my composure.

  I strolled up the red carpet leading into the manor with an aloof gaze and curious mind. I had been to gala’s and gallery openings, but this was something to behold.

  People danced and drank without a care, I couldn’t say I really recognized anyone, but that feeling was quite liberating. I wanted to commence my own drinking, but my situation held me ba
ck.

  “I see you’ve arrived fashionably late,” said a man’s voice from behind.

  I recognized the voice quite easily as Viktor’s, the man who was kind enough to send me the invite and the mask.

  “A girl needs to look her best for these sorts of things,” I replied. I began to turn but his arms caught me and held me in place.

  “You needn’t have worked so hard, knowing what’s under that dress would make any man weep with joy.”

  “Yes, but I find it best to wear clothing when I’m still easily recognized,” I replied.

  “I need to speak with you in private,” he said. “Follow me to my study.”

  I nodded. He released me and pushed his way through the opulent crowd while I followed. As we made our way, I couldn’t help but get the feeling that I was being watched. I looked about, and nothing seemed completely out of place, considering the party, except I noticed one person standing near the library with a drink in hand that tried his best not to make eye contact.

  I didn’t have much time to think about the stranger as I was being shoved into a small office room that opened beneath the entry stairs. Viktor closed the door and twisted the key.

  The room was surprisingly quiet and very cozy. A desk sat in the middle of the room with a high-backed leather chair protruding from behind. In front of the desk stood two smaller leather chairs. The wood paneling adorned the walls, and rich green carpet stained the floor.

  Viktor dropped the key and bent down to kiss me deeply. I craned my neck to reach him, standing on my tip-toes as I did. His lean muscular arms grasped me tight as I melted into them.

  He massaged his arm down my bare-backed dress, but I stopped him before he could go any lower.

  “I’m here to talk, and it’s rather important,” I said.

  “I have much to say to you as well, have a seat.”

  I sat myself in the smaller of the chairs; Viktor walked to a nearby decanter and poured himself a glass of Cognac before sitting himself next to me.

  “I hope you like the party, it was the only way I could think to get you here without pretenses,” he started.

  “You are having this party because you couldn’t just invite me to come over?” I asked.

  “Yes. I have too many people watching my home right now, and it’s important that I speak with you as soon as possible.”

  I sighed, slumping into my chair and getting a little more comfortable. My nerves were back, and this time, it wasn’t about being the only dark-skinned woman at a party.

  “There are a lot of people that don’t like me,” he said, “and many of them would stop at nothing to get revenge in any way they can. I want you to know this. I cherish our time together, and I need to keep you safe.”

  “Viktor,” I said.

  “Yes?” he asked.

  “Before you continue, I need to tell you something …”

  I stood back up and began pacing near the door.

  “Last month, after you bought that painting from the gallery, we slept together.”

  He smiled, appearing to remember fondly the night we gave in to our passions.

  “Well, I visited a doctor, and I found out that I’m pregnant. You’re the only person I’ve been with in quite a long time, and I know you’re the only one who could be the father. I want to carry this baby to term.”

  Viktor’s smile faded, but only a little. I started shaking, fearing the worst was in store for me. I waited for him to yell and me, and throw me from the building, but it never came. Instead, he just took me by the hand until I stopped shaking before answering.

  “I would love to be the father to your child. But, this is very distressing for me.”

  I nodded, assuming that he just thought I was telling him so that he would offer me money, but I so wished that he wouldn’t.

  “Now I have two people that I must look after.”

  He guzzled the last of the cognac in the glass and walked over to pour himself another. He turned to offer me a drink, then realized, shaking his head that I would surely turn it down.

  “I have received a few warning calls this past week. There is a man that I used to work with, Anton. He’s dangerous and will stop at nothing to take his anger out on me.”

  He returned to his seat, and I to mine. He leaned close to me and kissed my cheek.

  “Brandy, he may try to kill me.”

  I couldn’t believe the words I was hearing. It was at that moment that I wanted a drink quite badly.

  “Why is he trying to kill you,” I asked.

  He let out a sigh.

  “I suppose now is as good a time as any to tell you,” Viktor stood up and went to his desk. From the top drawer, he produced a small wallet and handed it to me.

  Inside the wallet was a hunk of bronze in the shape of a shield with a sword stabbing through the top. A familiar hammer and sickle displayed prominently in the middle. The markings and text were unfamiliar.

  “That’s my badge from the former secret service. Anton was my partner,” he said.

  I returned the badge and attempted to make sense of everything I had just heard.

  “You didn’t answer my question,” I replied through a creaky voice.

  Viktor flashed a smile.

  “Ah, clever girl,” he said. “You’re right, I haven’t answered.”

  He took the seat next to me again.

  “You see, when Anton and I were coming up in the service he wanted more power. The more he grasped for it, the more it slipped through his fingers.”

  “I don’t understand,” I said.

  “He took bribes, loaned his services out for favors, and even kidnapped public officials. He’s dirty.”

  I thought for a moment. “Wait, you stayed his partner while knowing all this?”

  “I’ve done some things I’m not entirely proud of to keep my country safe. For doing so, I have been rewarded with great success.”

  A shock of horror crept upon the back of my mind as I tried to understand the man before me. I had only known him for the last few months when he would come into my gallery and buy pieces for his own collection. To imagine the sweet man that I met as a thug and a gangster was becoming unbearable.

  I stood up and walked to the door, unthinkingly. It was still locked. I felt Viktor’s arms around me again, and I lingered for a moment.

  “Where’s the key?”

  He didn’t appear to be in a talking mood, but I wasn’t in the mood for intimacy. I pushed him off and searched around for the key, which I spotted on the floor.

  “Don’t go.”

  I looked him in the eyes as he begged me to stay. It was a soulful look, a look of longing, and it was difficult to say goodbye.

  “Goodbye, Viktor.”

  I twisted the key in the lock, while replacing my mask, and made quickly for the front door. I could hear Viktor coming from behind, but he was too late.

  I pulled myself into the car I had arrived in, which wasn’t too far from the entrance, and my driver knew I was ready to leave.

  I removed my mask and turned to Viktor, who stood at the end of the red carpet, in an attempt to get my attention.

  I couldn’t tell if it was my imagination or not, but I could make out the appearance of the same masked man from before, this time, it seemed he was staring at my car. If I weren’t in such a foul mood, I might have found myself more than a little unnerved.

  My phone began buzzing before I reached the end of the driveway, it was Viktor calling me. I couldn’t think of anything he could say that might calm me down right now. I’m not a person who gets involved with gangsters, but now that I had was it really so bad?

  Viktor was still a good man, in my eyes. I had never seen him treat anyone with disrespect, and that included the few times I met his personal driver.

  The odd part of the night was that I couldn’t help but find his new persona, the dangerous and wild gangster, as a serious turn on. I could feel my chest grow heavier as I thought about it mo
re, and my brain was alight with possibility. I slept with a gangster, and I was having his baby.

  I tried my best to think of something else, but the more I denied myself the pleasure, the stronger it became. I could feel myself becoming more aroused by the second. The yearning I had for his touch took over my hands, giving them a mind of their own as they caressed my gentle curves.

  I was snapped from my fantasy by the car coming to a stop in front of my apartment. The driver was already walking around to my door, so I tried my best to hide my excitement.

  I have a suspicion that he knew what was on my mind, considering the cheeky smile that seemed plastered on his face. My cheeks were flush with embarrassment as I half sprinted up the stairs toward my room.

  Once inside my apartment I stripped the elegant gown off and felt the need for a cold shower. It was my own impulses that got me into this mess, and now I wondered how I would get out of them.

  I can’t say I enjoy cold showers, but they always help kill the mood. I wondered if perhaps it was my own hormones starting to affect my mood in some fashion.

  2.

  I was still a little angry when I woke up. My phone had still not been turned on, and I deigned to do so. Still, I had a business that needed to be run, so begrudgingly clicked on the device.

  It flashed to life and delivered several text messages and voice mails that I could already tell weren’t from prospective clients. I wasn’t interested in reading anything from Viktor, today. So, I crammed the phone in my purse.

  The wind blew cold through the window I had forgotten to close; which was odd, as I rarely opened that window, but I have been known to forget my own actions in the past. The rush of cold air perked up goosebumps on my naked skin, and I relented to putting clothes on.

  My dress lay on the floor, still in a heap, waiting for me to take proper care of it. I wasn’t too keen on having so expensive a thing get destroyed so soon, so I plucked it from its rest and hung it in the closet.

  I wasn’t sure what it was that I saw, but I know I saw something out of place once again. My shoes, which I normally keep in proper order, had somehow found themselves disheveled. A few of my dresses as well were shoved to the wrong side of the closet, as well.