Boxed Set: Dominated by a Billionaire - Part 10-12: Irresistible Billionaire (17 page)

"I’d like to thank you all from the bottom of my heart for being here tonight," my King begins, looking at each guest, one after the other. "I’m aware that the recent events were a shock for you. And that they even caused suffering for some of you. I sincerely want to apologize for everything I put you through…"

"Alma is the one you should be saying that too…" my brother grumbles. "I don’t get what she’s still doing with you!"

"Let him talk, Baz!" Niels interrupts, already ready to take out the handkerchiefs.

"I really want you to know the whole truth. I want you to know that Alma means everything to me. That everything I’ve done so far, I did for her. For her alone," he says more softly, staring at me again.

"And…?" Basile asks, impatiently.

"You had better shut up or I’m going to bust your teeth in!" Lily says, about to lose it.

"Are you planning on getting married, or not?" my mother asks suddenly, clearly bitter.

My Apollo doesn’t add another word. He just looks at me, letting me know the next bit is up to me. That it’s my turn to go for it. For a few long seconds, all the guests look at me, silently urging me on. I feel like my heart is going to explode, but I manage to get up anyway, squeezing my wedding ring tight in my hand, through my silk blouse.

"Vadim and I got married nine days ago, in utmost secrecy," I whisper, feeling my voice crack. "On a little desert island that could have been paradise…"

The stupefied faces turn towards me. Some genuine, cheerful smiles appear. Others waver between smirks and frowns. My King runs his hand down my back and slips it around my waist. He pulls me gently towards him and kisses me on the temple, while I stare at my mother. It looks like she is on the verge of tears. I don’t know if it’s a good or bad sign…

"Mom…" I begin, in a tiny voice.

"I don’t know what to say, Alma. You know how important it was for me. I should have been there!"

"I don’t think Vadim has told us everything yet," Alistair says, a little lost.

Thank God the dandy interrupted there. For what seems like an eternity, Vadim provides detailed explanations about why and how: Monkov’s threats, his links to the mafia, the unsuccessful attempts made by Vadim, Adrian and all his men to control the danger, until the wedding was canceled. This time, no one criticizes anything. They all (except Basile, obviously) look amazed and compassionate, even approving. My King is no longer considered a bastard. He is no longer the man who broke my heart, who humiliated and rejected me. He is the man who sought to protect me at all costs.

We are free at last… Monkov will no longer separate us…

"How about the rings? Can we see them?" Clémentine exclaims, her cheeks red with excitement.

Misty eyed, I slip on the precious ring. Vadim does the same and I hold out my hand to the table of guests. Screams break out, chairs back up and our friends and relatives fall into our arms to congratulate us. We raise a toast to us, to eternity, to our future babies, to health, wealth and happiness. Then my dark and handsome partner takes the floor again. His steel eyes melt in mine with awesome intensity. I melt a little more inside…

"Rose, you jump, I jump, right?"

Titanic…

"Right, Jack, like I said, I don’t have a choice," I laugh, softly, putting my ring in front of his face.

"Alma, marrying you once isn’t enough for me," he says, hugging me tight. "Set aside your last weekend in September, everyone! We’re going to do it again… And this time, you’ll all be there," he announces to our little group.

"Wait. Who are you and what have you done with my Vadim?" I giggle, kissing him.

"He remembered Santa Monica and he figured that is where the most beautiful day of our life should take place," he whispers in my ear.

Oh, Vadim…

The days go by, the weeks fly and every morning, I am still surprised to see this sparkling ring on my finger, as if it were carved into my flesh. I haven’t taken it off since that announcement in our hanging garden, afraid that my dream might go up in smoke. Vadim King said I do, to me. We’ve come full circle. He is everything to me: my first love, my passionate lover, my tender confidante, my ruthless CEO, my devoted husband, body and soul. “I finally feel whole,” he whispered to me in the early morning, in a sleepy voice, holding my hand in his. Our rings were touching and I felt the same way he did.

It took us twelve years to get here…

Almost thirteen.

"Arcadi and you… Married… I still can’t believe it," Basile mumbles, staring into space.

"King," Niels dryly corrects him, apparently in a bad mood. "It’s crazy how your memory goes out the window when it comes to Vadim… Not to mention your good manners and your diplomacy..."

The two lovebirds glare at each other for a second, then look the other way. No doubt about it, there’s been an argument. The waitress at the
Renard
– the adorably old-fashioned restaurant in the Jardin des Tuileries – brings our round of drinks and pastries. It isn’t even 9 a.m., but the August heat has already started climbing. I take off my jacket to let my bare arms breathe.

"Arcadi or King: I don't care. I’ll use any name, so long as it’s his," I say, grabbing a croissant from the basket.

"Oh yeah? Even Carena?" Lily jokes.

We all look at her inquisitively; she is seated at the end of the table. Looking thrilled – and very proud of her joke – she stares at us without batting an eyelash.

"What? '
Al-ma Carena, hey Macarena!
' ” she sings, miming a ridiculous choreography.

A few giggles and jokes are made while I just sit there, smiling idiotically. I've still got the little after-wedding chills. Those fleeting moments in which I realize that I am Mrs. King and my heart leaps inside.

"Are we still the only ones who know about the secret wedding?" Basile asks, ignoring our sister who is now moving about and making tam-tam noises.

"Yes, but not for long – we’re going to announce it to everyone at King Prod. In a few days, all you’ll have to do is turn on the TV to hear about it. And our ceremony in Santa Monica won’t be spared either," I say half-joking. "The invitations have been sent out; the press will be in on it soon. Unless there’s some kind of miracle…"

"You don’t mind the fact that people are going to be examining your life under a microscope? That you won’t be able to trust anyone?" my brother says.

"I trust you," I say, smiling. "And you get used to everything else… I'm willing to put up with all that so I can be with Vadim. It’s not like he chose to be spied on and harassed on a permanent basis. It’s hard on him, too."

"Sure, and he gives it back to you so well, with all his millions," Pippa interjects, yawning. It's unbelievable that she’s even here, considering how early it is!

"His billions," Lily corrects her, rolling her eyes. "Personally, I think you should’ve stayed in bed…"

"How about if the two of you put an end to your cold war?" Clémentine suggests, her sleeping son in her arms. "You sound like Madeleine and Séraphine, except they have an excuse: they’re four years old..."

"I slept with him first," Lily says under her breath.

Alessandro…

"Right, and he came knocking at my door afterwards. Which clearly proves that you weren't exactly a big hit," our cousin blurts out, venomously.

"You’re about to see what I’m going to hit!" Lily says, jumping up from her chair.

"Calm down, now you're acting like the Olsen sisters!" Basile exclaims, butting in. "We're supposed to be here for Alma! To talk about her wedding, not to listen to your silly squabbling!"

"I’m not the center of the world yet, Basile," I laugh, feeling a little uncomfortable. "And Lily and Pippa obviously have things to settle. Maybe it's better they do it now, while they've got witnesses…"

"Good idea," Clem and Niels say, winking at each other.

After half an hour of bitter negotiations, scathing remarks and more or less vicious attacks, the two tigresses agree to make a deal. Since their handsome chauffeur has refused to choose, they are going to have to do it for him. In the fairest way possible:

"It’s all or nothing… and in this case, it’ll be nothing. Both of us erase his number," Lily repeats for the twelfth time. "We don’t call him any more, we don’t see him any more, we forget him. Both of us."

"All he had to do was make up his mind," the little two-bit Casanova, Pippa agrees. "And anyway, family is sacred!" she says, giving her new best friend a hug.

Now’s when she realizes that?!

This truce won’t last or my name isn’t Alma!

Breakfast ends with everyone’s differences more or less settled. I head towards the Champs-Élysées. The
King Building
is glowing in the hot sun’s rays when I enter the main lobby. Vadim and Clarence are there, in the middle of a conversation with Adrian.

"How is my little king of the Franks?" the Black hunk asks me as soon as he sees me.

"Clovis? Tip-top. Already addicted to caffeine!"

"I knew it! Soon it’ll be hard drugs!" my coworker laughs, striding off towards the elevator.

I turn around towards the two muscular guys who are on my right. Vadim watches me, all smiles, although Adrian doesn’t seem comfortable.

"I have to run. Have a good day, Alma," the ex-FBI agent says, before turning on his heels, cutting any potential conversation short.

"Something wrong?" I ask Vadim right away. "Am I dreaming or did I just make Mr. Muscles run away?"

"You are much more dangerous than you look," my dark and handsome man says, laughing softly. Then he gives me a quick kiss.

"People are going to see us!" I quickly push him away.

"So what? Let people talk, they’ll end up finding out anyway…"

Not now, not today! Too many things to deal with!

"King," I scold him, keeping my distance. "In your office, immediately!"

"You’ll soon find out who’s giving the orders, you naughty little girl!" He comes towards me with a threatening look while, like a coward, I start running away, giggling.

I go into the elevator, followed by my CEO, who blocks the elevator doors at the last second. I see his diabolical gaze and his grin melt, as we are lifted up and away. The elevator stops practically on every floor, forcing us to maintain an acceptable distance. Every time, our co-workers greet us with smiles and nods, while we clench our teeth, praying for the torture to end.

"Free at last!" Vadim say, pressing me up against his office door.

There's the sound of the lock, and then the latch. The fifteen minutes I’m about to go through are going to be nasty – nastily delicious.

"Vadim, why is Adrian avoiding me?" I ask, in a voice stifled between two kisses.

Anything to do with Monkov’s death?

No, no and no. Vadim has nothing to do with it!

So why can’t I get the idea out of my head?….

"Nothing to do with you," Vadim sighs, pressing his hand over my mouth. "Forester is just very busy… Now, be quiet if you don’t want me to punish you."

"You jerk!" I say, slipping to the side to get away from him.

"I’ve been called worse things than that. You think you know everything, but you haven’t seen anything yet, Lancaster…"

The game of cat and mouse can begin. Step by step, taking our time, we challenge each other, face to face, working our way around his huge office. I take a few steps backwards, unsure of what this silent battle will lead to. I brush up against his desk and caress it with my fingertips. He trembles and picks up the pace. I roll his swivel chair towards him, to slow him down. He sniggers. I bite my lip. His face tenses up. His eyes darken, I have just scored a point.

Suddenly, in an amazing leap, my King hurls himself towards me and I find myself trapped, between the wall and my assailant. I roar with laughter, wiggle a few seconds then end up giving in. He gloats and gets ready to relish in his victory.

"I’ve told you before not to run away from me," he teases, lifting my skirt delicately.

"And since when do I obey?" I gasp, excited by his touch.

"I hate it when you run away from me, but I love it when you resist," he murmurs, running his lips over my neck.

OK… I surrender… His hands… His mouth… His skin…

After all, who am I to defy the “King”?

Adrian has just hung up when I walk towards him on the Champs-Élysées. Niels is waiting for me, seated at a sidewalk café not far from here, but my curiosity wins out over the sermon I’m probably going to get. The head of security spots me suddenly and his expression changes. He’s going to try to get out of the conversation again, I can feel it…

You’re not going anywhere, Forester!

"Adrian, it’ll just take two minutes…"

"One."

"Excuse me?"

"One minute. That’s all I can give you."

Keep calm, Alma…

"Any news about Dimitri’s death?" I ask, clenching my teeth to keep my anger under control.

"The investigation is still underway. So far, the American authorities seem to think it was a settling of scores, getting even. An affair between gangs, rivalries, power. Behind bars, there’s nothing surprising about that."

Can’t ask him if Vadim is involved. Too dangerous…

"No plans for retaliation in the works?" I whisper. "No throngs of mobsters at our heels?"

"No, I made sure of that as soon as his death was announced. Dimitri Monkov is no longer a threat; he’s history. In a way, Vadim got his revenge. But he didn't have to get his hands dirty, since someone did it for him… "

…

"I mean, instead of him," he corrects himself. He gives me a nod goodbye and slips into the
King Building
.

Is it really a coincidence?

I don’t know who to believe…

"I ordered you a salad," Niels says as I sit down beside him, in the shade of a big parasol.

"I could tell something was up this morning. Want to tell me about it?"