My Dutch Billionaire 3 (8 page)

Acheron halted in front of Serenity’s desk, curious at the battle-like expression on his normally serene intern’s face. She was an exquisitely beautiful blonde girl, and it had been one of the reasons he had hired her. His previous life had created a hunger in him for the most beautiful baubles, and originally, that was all Serenity was supposed to be.

But in the months that she had worked for him, Acheron had been pleasantly surprised to find out that there was an equally beautiful mind behind the lovely face. Just as amusing was Serenity’s mixture of shyness and aloofness, her streak of perfectionism versus her innocent, child-like reactions to the most mundane of things.

An angel and a temptress in one delectable package
, Acheron had come to realize. It was the best way to describe his intern, and if he played his cards right, he just might have her as his mistress before the year ended.

All he had to do was to be patient and methodical, like he always was in his life.

Clearing his throat, he asked, “Is something wrong, Ms. Raleigh?” A lesser man would have his ego dented by Serenity’s lack of awareness, but Acheron only saw it as a challenge to surmount.

Startled at the sound of her Greek boss’ drawl, Serenity hastily schooled her expression back into its professional mask as she came to her feet. “Nothing at all, sir.”
 

He watched her gather her things as she spoke, stuffing her notes and wallet back into he bag, one at a time, organized even in her haste, which amused him.

When she was done, he asked politely, “Shall we go then?”

“After you, sir.” Serenity followed Acheron to the lift. She was to attend a meeting with him this afternoon, Acheron wanting her to get used to how Greeks did business.

As the doors of the lift closed, he asked casually, “Your ex-boyfriend is waiting for you below, I believe?” She colored at the question, and Acheron wondered idly if her body blushed in the same shade of pink as her cheeks did.

“Someone came to visit, yes.” His intern’s voice was stilted. “But he’s not my ex-boyfriend. He’s been dating my older sister on and off for years.”

“Ah. A model, I believe?”

“Yes.” She looked up at him suspiciously. “You seem to know too much about me, sir.”
 

“Yes, I do,” he answered easily. “Stavros told me all about you actually.”

Serenity grimaced. “It figures.”

Acheron pretended not to hear the words his intern muttered under her breath even as he wondered how much she really understood. When Stavros had forwarded him her
résumé
, it had come with a friendly warning.

This girl is off limits. She’s nursing a broken heart, and she’s the good sort. I could have her working for me, but we would probably drive each other crazy in a week’s time. I think she’ll be better off with you.

And when Acheron had seen Serenity’s attached photo, he thought the same, too.

This girl would be better off with him.

He might not love her, but he would cherish her for as long as she pleased him, and he would never break her heart with false promises of love.

When the doors to the lift opened, Serenity was stunned to find Acheron’s arm suddenly go around her waist. Her head snapped up, but she felt more bemused than violated. “Sir?”

“Play with me,” he whispered in her ear. “Manolis told me about this Dutch billionaire breaking your heart, and I think he deserves to think he has a little competition, ne?”

He raised a brow, his arm still around her waist.

One word
, she thought,
and this could be over.

One word, and she could be a step closer to having her revenge.

She whispered, “Yes.”

Approval gleamed in Acheron Simonides’ dark eyes. “That’s my girl.”

She shivered at the possessive note in his voice, but she could not make herself tell him not to call her that.
This, too, was an act
, she told herself. It was just an act.
 

They began to walk, Acheron with his arm still around her waist while he spoke in a low, almost intimate voice, his head bent towards her. In the corner of her eye, she saw the Dutch billionaire rise to his feet at the sight of her, but she did not turn his way.
 

She could feel the billionaire’s gaze narrowing towards her, could feel his eyes follow her every moment. And as they started to walk past him, she could feel everyone turning towards them, knew the exact moment tongues started to wag.

Wasn’t that the Dutch billionaire, Willem de Konigh?

Wasn’t that the Queen of Contini’s nephew?

Wasn’t he supposed to be dating the Dutch model?

Wasn’t the girl with Acheron Simonides the model’s younger sister, the one called Willem Jr.?

Had the Dutch billionaire come to see her?

They were standing right in front of the Dutch billionaire now. She only had to turn her head towards him. She had only to look at him, and she knew he would think she was just doing her job and not allowing her personal life to intrude with her work.

But Acheron chose that same moment to whisper to her ear, “It’s your choice,
koukla mou
.”
 

Serenity closed her eyes.
 

Her choice.

Like it was
his
choice to walk away from her.

She opened her eyes and gave Acheron a tiny nod.

He pulled her closer towards him.

And they walked past Willem de Konigh, without Serenity ever glancing back.

Her choice,
she thought fiercely.
 

This was her choice, and it was the right choice, the only choice she could make.

****

At five in the afternoon, Acheron’s chauffeur drove her back to the office, alone. The Greek billionaire told her she had no need to clock out of work since she had been with him, but Serenity had been adamant. She had been trained to be utterly professional in her work, and accepting any special treatment didn’t sit well with her. The fact that she had received such training from the Dutch billionaire, Serenity childishly decided to ignore.

From the basement, she took the lift and went straight to the penthouse floor. The receptionist appeared startled to see her, and when she was done signing out, the other girl asked Serenity about her visitor.

“He’s still waiting, you know.”

Serenity wetted her suddenly dry lips at the receptionist’s words. “W-who’s waiting?”

The receptionist looked at her oddly. “Mr. de Konigh. I told you he was waiting, didn’t I?”

“I s-see. Thank you,” she heard herself say before slowly turning back towards the lifts.
 

Moving like she was on automatic pilot, Serenity pulled her phone out and searched the Internet for the latest news on Willem.

Dozens of results came up, all of them originating from Athens, all of them insinuating that there was something going on between Willem de Konigh and his on-off girlfriend’s younger sister, Serenity Raleigh.

Could it be an incestuous ménage a trois,
a rather sleazy tabloid boldly suggested in its homepage.

Perhaps the Dutch billionaire wanted fresh young blood and thought the older woman too old and dried up for him?

Either way, all the news reports agreed that Serenity was smart for her age, with numerous eyewitnesses telling them that the nineteen year old had chosen to snub him.

And so it had started
, she thought numbly.
 

Vengeance was supposed to be sweet, but her first slice of it did not taste good at all.

Swiping on the screen to write a message, she found herself texting Willem.

Serenity:
Are you still at the lobby?

Willem:
Yes. Are you free to meet with me now?

Serenity:
Yes. I will meet you outside the office.

When she stepped out of the building, she rushed down the stairs only to halt at the very last step when she saw that it wasn’t just Willem’s black limousine waiting for her.
 

Instead of the chauffeur waiting to open the door for her, it was the Dutch billionaire himself standing next to his car, his handsome face expressionless even when people around them were already talking about him.

And they were laughing at him
, she realized painfully. This was Athens’ business district, and everyone obviously recognized him – and knew that he had just been snubbed.
He had to know this, too
, Serenity thought feverishly. So why hadn’t he just chosen to wait for her inside his car?

Her legs trembled as she made her way to him.

“Good afternoon, Serenity.” His voice was beautiful, exactly the way she remembered it. But there was no trace of anger in it at all, no trace of accusation, and she had a sudden urge to weep.

Willem de Konigh was no idiot. He had to know she was taking her revenge. He had to. So why wasn’t he saying anything about it?

Swallowing, she said tremulously, “Good afternoon, Mr. de Konigh.” Her voice caught.

The billionaire heard it, and he sucked his breath in audibly.
 

“God, Sere.”
Suddenly, he was taking hold of her hand, and she could only let him take command as he ushered her inside the car. The moment the door closed, the billionaire reached for her. She struggled then, but he was too strong, and she was…

She was weak.

She was always weak against this man, this Dutch billionaire she still loved even as she sought to destroy him.

The billionaire succeeded in pulling her to his lap, and his arms closed around her like a cage. It should have made her feel trapped, but it only made her feel like she was home, and the realization made her want to weep even more.

She felt the billionaire’s lips graze her forehead. “Sere.”

She shuddered at the sound of her pet name on his lips.

“It’s all right, Sere.” His arms tightened around her. “It’s completely all right.”

And she began to cry because she knew what he was saying, what he tried not to say directly, knowing that the actual words would hurt her more.

It was okay for her to take her revenge.

He tipped her chin up, telling her hoarsely, “We’ll take it one day at a time.”

She couldn’t answer, could only cry as both pain and guilt threatened to engulf her.

Just an act,
she told herself even as she allowed the billionaire to pull her closer.

She curled up in his lap, and her eyes closed.
 

It’s all just an act.
 

Just an act.
 

****

And so it started all over again, vengeance taking yet another form. Serenity and Willem began to meet in secret, and they were the most unbearably beautiful moments of her life.

The first day, Willem took her out for a rooftop picnic at a de Konigh hotel, something she had not seen coming at all.

“B-but you don’t do picnics,” she had stammered in wide-eyed disbelief.

But the Dutch billionaire had only laughed softly at her protests. Drawing her down to the blanket he had laid out, with a hamper filled with wine, bread, and cheese, he told her that everything was worth doing, as long as it was with her.

The second day, they had just gone driving, taking in Athens’ beauty at night since both of them were still neophytes where Greece’s capital was concerned. They made it to Lycabettus Hill at midnight. It meant ‘the hills walked by wolves,’ a legendary haven where wolves were said to seek refuge. It offered 360-degree views of the city, with the Acropolis’ majestic beauty spread before their eyes while in the distance, the peak of Mt. Parnes rose proudly in the north.

He took her straight back to the university after, even walking her to the front door of her dorm. She knew she should say goodbye but she had been unable to, a part of her shamefully realizing she had wanted him to kiss her.