My Dutch Billionaire 3 (5 page)

BOOK: My Dutch Billionaire 3
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Velvet was shaking her head back at the Dutch billionaire. “You’re right. I don’t know your parents. And maybe they were in love like you said. Obviously, I don’t know much about you, but I’m telling you right now, and I believe this with all my heart – you don’t know as much as you think you know about love.”

She looked at her husband in quiet appeal, and Mykolas, unable to refuse his wife anything, found himself doing something he had thought unimaginable for someone like him: dispensing love advice.

“I do know of your parents, de Konigh, and I am aware of their reputation—” He paused then said evenly, “Then and now.” When the Dutch billionaire’s jaw hardened, Mykolas knew his words had struck a raw nerve, just as he had intended.
 

Taking his wife’s hand under the table, Mykolas attempted to find the right words to best explain the feelings he had for the woman beside him. “It
was
instantaneous between Velvet and me. And based on your account, it had been the same thing for your parents. But it is not the only form of love that exists.” Tightening his hold on his wife’s hand, he said quietly, “If you ask me, I think you are the luckier one. You met the woman you were meant to be with at an earlier age. You had more years to spend with her, more years to love her. And yes, it might not have been instantaneous, but it doesn’t mean you didn’t – you don’t – love her. It could only mean that the love between the two of you grew gradually, but it doesn’t make the feelings any less powerful.” Mykolas’ voice became quiet and almost regretful as he voiced what he knew could be the Dutch billionaire’s greatest mistake. “It could be there was no spark – no bolt of lightning, no instantaneous attraction – simply because what you had was already more than it. What you and that girl had was love already at its deepest and purest form.”

****

Willem walked along the shorelines of Mageia’s private beach. Dawn broke overhead, its bright colors streaking the skies and clearing away the darkness. He walked and walked, blind to the beauty surrounding him, deaf to the sound of the serenade of the gently lapping waves of the sea.

He walked to escape the memories that wanted to break out of its cage, but it was impossible. They drove him to his knees, and when he was down, his head bowing at the weariness of his empty life, the cage holding his memories back broke down as well.

They surged into his mind, and suddenly she was all the billionaire could see, hear, and feel.

Serenity.

His Sere.

His engel.

He saw her at fourteen, wide-eyed and wary the first time they had met.

He saw her the first time they had met in her school, and he had come to accept that she was, for better or for worse, going to be a permanent fixture in his life.

Was that when it had started,
Willem asked himself numbly.
 

Maybe. Maybe not. But what was clear now was that Mykolas Sallis was right.

It was love, still love, between him and Serenity.

Love at its deepest and purest form, and now that he realized how stupid and stubborn he had been, it became so damn clear.
 

Only two people who loved could understand each other with a mere look, a mere touch, without a single word being spoken.

Only two people in love could be so devoted to each other, with the way Serenity bowed to his every command, and he had sought to do everything to protect her.
 

He had loved her, and she had loved him.

But he had pushed her away.

He had hurt her.

In his arrogance and stupidity, he had treated her with abominable cruelty, thinking that by doing so, he was saving her from worse hurt.

How the hell would he ever make it up to her?

How the hell could he make her believe that he had not meant anything he said?

How the hell could he earn her love back?

Willem’s eyes slowly closed.

The sound of her sobs echoed in his mind.

Please. Please wait. Please tell me.
 

He had let her beg, had walked away even when she had crumpled to the floor in pain.

Pain ravaged his chest, and it felt like his ribs were about to collapse at the burden of his pain.

I’m sorry, Serenity.
 

I’m sorry, my love.

I’m sorry.

PART III

Eight months after Book 3

Routines had again come to Serenity’s rescue. As a freshman enrolled in the newly-opened Athens campus of Christopoulos University, her days began to follow a pattern that she was quick to embrace. Her classes went from morning to noon, and after lunch, she proceeded to spend the afternoons at her part-time job. Weekends, she went home to stay with her friend Willow, who was now married to a Greek billionaire of her own, Stavros Manolis.

It was a very orderly life, and she liked it exactly that way.

It would have stayed that way, too, if only Anton wasn’t making her feel horrendous for constantly turning him down.

Anton was a sophomore in her book club, and he had befriended her on the first club meeting. He was of average height, and with equally average looks. Everything was average about him, and if Serenity was honest with herself, it was that very trait which had allowed her to relax her guard with the boy. He was ordinary, and in that sense, the very opposite of the Dutch billionaire she was slowly succeeding in forgetting. She had been pleased when he had offered her friendship and had not hesitated to offer hers back. In her innocence and sheer lack of experience with members of the opposite sex, Serenity had not realized until it was too late that a boy’s offer of friendship was frequently the first step to dating.

“How about I just walk you back to the dorm?” Anton asked as soon as the club president dismissed them for the day and everyone began to leave. He braced himself for rejection, but when Serenity visibly hesitated, he realized that, for whatever reason, he had a real chance now of getting the beautiful Serenity Raleigh to say yes.

“Just a walk,” he pressed, deliberately moving to block her way to the door. He knew he was being unfair. From the very start, Serenity’s innocence had been obvious, and eventually, he had found out that she had studied in an all-girls’ school her entire life. He knew he should give her space, but he just couldn’t do it. The moment he did, Anton was pretty sure some other guy – someone much cooler than he was – would snap her right up. No way in hell would he wait for that to happen.

Serenity chewed on her lip uncertainly.
 
“Just a walk?”

He nodded eagerly. “A walk.” He crossed his heart. “I swear it.” Like Serenity, he was a full-blooded American, and he thanked God for it, knowing that it was another reason why Serenity was more comfortable in his company.
 

“Okay,” she said finally.

Anton mentally pumped his fist in the air.
Yes!
 

As they walked, Anton noticed the way the other guys gazed at him with not-so-secret envy and almost smirked.
Eat your hearts out,
he thought smugly. None of them knew Serenity like he did, and he would do everything to ensure it stayed that way.

Keeping his pace slow to prolong his time with her, he began to regale Serenity with funny stories about his family. The first time they had met, he had tried to impress her with how wealthy and famous his family was, and it had been a big mistake. He had noticed the way she became more polite and stiffer with him by the second and had desperately changed tacks, accidentally blurting out the first thing that came to his mind.

“When I’m nervous, I tend to fart. Only my family knows it though, and now you.

As soon as the words had come out of his mouth, Anton had been aghast and miserable. He had waited for Serenity to tell the whole class about him and wouldn’t have blamed her for it.

But she hadn’t.

Instead, she had smiled at him while saying in her lovely, clearly voice, “Your family sounds so wonderfully nice.” But there had also been a note of wistfulness in her words, and Anton had realized then if he kept telling her stories about his family, she would stay with him forever. It was like Scheherazade and the king, only this time he was the storytelling virgin and he had a queen to entertain.

Even now, Serenity did not seem tired at all, listening to him telling her the most mundane things about his family. Throughout their walk, Anton was careful to keep his distance, knowing also from experience how Serenity hated being touched by members of his sex. He had researched about her and had eventually come to the conclusion that it was probably because she was a virgin. She was
Willem, Jr.
after all, and the Dutch billionaire likely had some of his guards looking after her, being his girlfriend’s younger sister.
 

What if the Dutch billionaire came here,
he mused even as he kept a steady stream of chatter about his family.
What if the Dutch billionaire disapproved of him? What would he do?

Anton mentally shook his head.
Nah.
Even if the Dutch billionaire did come, surely the older man would not find any fault in him. He came from extremely good Greek stock, and he had never been accused of being a playboy. In fact, if Willem de Konigh requested that he honor Serenity with an offer of marriage, Anton would be more than happy to do so.

He looked at Serenity.

She looked back at him, her tranquil expression unchanging and her eyes still an unreadable shade of blue.

One day,
Anton vowed to himself,
he would learn all the secrets behind that perfect mask. One day, he would have the right to kiss her.
His pulse quickened at the thought.
One day, he would have the right to undress her—

Her brows furrowed. “Anton?” Her tone was bemused.

Anton recovered. “Sorry.” He cleared his throat and wished to God it would be just as easy to clear his erection away. “I was just thinking of un—” He hastily caught himself in time. “I mean, I was thinking of unnecessary stuff.”

“Unnecessary stuff like what?” Serenity’s tone had turned curious.

He pulled on his collar. “Well…” Anton was not at all used to lying. He saw her frown and her gaze narrow at him in puzzlement. Her eyes began to move down, and he panicked. Not wanting Serenity to notice the rather prominent bulge under his jeans, he pointed behind her back. “Look!” He hadn’t really anywhere or anything to point at, had only wanted Serenity distracted. But as he followed the random direction his finger pointed to, Anton realized with a start that there
was
something worth noticing.

A black stretch limousine, parked right in front of Serenity’s dorm.

“What is it?” he heard Serenity ask as she whirled around to follow his gaze.

A chauffeur had stepped out to open the passenger door.

Serenity whitened upon seeing the limousine and the man stepping out of it with elegant grace.

Willem.

Before she knew what she was doing, she had reached for Anton’s hand and gripped it tightly, needing to remind herself that she was
not
alone.

Anton jumped at the unexpected touch but had enough presence of mind not to pull away. Instead, he tightened his hold on her, and his chest puffed with pride when he felt Serenity return his tight hold.

He turned to face the Dutch billionaire—

Willem de Konigh was standing right in front of him, dressed in an obviously bespoke pinstriped suit, with the way it molded perfectly to his broad shoulders and long, lean frame. He was so damn tall Anton had to crane his neck to meet the Dutch billionaire’s gaze.
 

The older man’s icy blue eyes raked him from head to toe.

Anton’s earliest boost of self-confidence disappeared, and he heard himself croak out, “Good afternoon, Mr. de Konigh.”

“I’m afraid I do not have the pleasure of knowing your name.” Anton felt like he was in some kind of Twilight Zone as he listened to the Dutch billionaire speak. He had a strong accent, but his perfectly modulated voice also bore an immensely strong resemblance to Serenity’s. It was like hearing twins speak, even when they weren’t really that.

“Anton Floros, sir.” And because he couldn’t very well ignore the hand the billionaire offered, he reluctantly released his hold on Serenity’s hand to shake hands with the older man. When it was over, he considered taking Serenity’s hand again. But her hands were already fisted against her sides, and despite everything, he didn’t quite have the nerve to risk rejection by taking her hand.

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