Fears and Scars

O
ne lie can destroy everything
. What will a pile of them do? 

A
chance encounter
changed everything for Ryan and Liz. Five months later, they have an all-consuming love, a deep emotional bond, an explosive sexual chemistry, and a newfound trust. They’re engaged and on the way to their happily ever after. 
The only problem is a secret from Elizabeth’s past that Ryan has been hiding. 
The truth will come out. Will it set Ryan and Liz free or break them apart and destroy their dreams? 
Life challenges every relationship. Ryan and Liz will learn that secrets aren’t their only problem.

Warning: The novel includes mature content, and thus is intended for adult readers only. (18+) Fears and Scars can be read as a stand alone, but to have the full scope of Liz and Ryan’s story it’s advised to read
Flawed and Damaged
first.

P
eople say
the beauty of life is its unpredictability. I mean, we never know what’s coming next. We plan, we wish, we dream, but we can’t really predict anything. Everything can change at any moment.

For the first seventeen years of my life, I had a mom and dad who adored me. I was healthy and full of dreams.

I would be lying if I said my whole life was mapped out. Career? I couldn’t even figure out which college to attend. My dad worked at the University of Washington, but I wanted my independence. Anyway, the future I wanted for myself was clear in my head, but the path to get there was what I needed to figure out.

Life had other plans for me, though.

One day everything changed.

I changed.

The old Elizabeth, the naïve and carefree Elizabeth, died with my parents five years ago. That plane crash took away not only my family, but also a huge part of myself. I started seeing life in harsher tones. To escape it all, I moved to Moscow, Russia to live with my grandmother. After she had been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s a year later, responsibilities piled on my shoulders, and I had to work my ass off to make money to support myself and afford specialized care for Granny. My priorities and dreams changed.

Would life be boring or worthless if it were predictable? No. I love good old predictability. Even if we could plan fifty years into the future and the Universe didn’t interrupt us with its own agenda, we could still make life exciting. We’d just need to come up with a badass plan, travel more, be kinder to each other.

In reality, life gives and life takes, and there’s nothing we can do except try again, move forward, and hope for the best.

C
licking ‘save
,’ I reread what I’ve just typed, then select everything and click ‘delete.’

It’s not a pity party, Liza. It’s supposed to be an academic essay.

Why the hell did I sign up for Philosophy?

My online classes at the University of Washington have barely started, and I refuse to drop the course because of my baggage.

The past doesn’t define me.

It shouldn’t.

I start typing again. This time, I don’t mention anything personal. Nor do I write that unpredictability terrifies me. My thoughts are simple—what doesn’t excite us is boring and dull, and each day we should open ourselves up to a world of new possibilities.

Nothing heavy. In the end, the essay turns out to be dry and quite predictable, but it’ll have to do.

This is what a normal person would write, right?

The sound of an incoming text steals me from my thoughts.

Ana
: With the new contractors you found, we can start another three projects right away. Brilliant work! Someone is the best assistant ever!

Her words make me smile. I’ve assisted Ana at her design firm for three months now, and I love it. My boss is a gem. She doesn’t complain when I need to visit Granny at the clinic during working hours and finds Ryan’s constant flowers and lunch deliveries endearing. On top of that, she sends me positive messages on weekends.

Me
: Glad I could help,
I shoot back, checking the time. Crap. I need to hurry. Ryan’s landing in two hours.

I quickly email my homework assignment, unable to control the sudden excitement now coursing through my veins.

My fiancé does that. And as corny as it may sound, he makes my heart sing, flutter, and beat hard. He lights the spark deep inside me that has been asleep for so long—the spark of hope, the desire to live, to be thrilled about things again.

I close my laptop, and like a giddy schoolgirl, bounce to my small bedroom. Time to change into something that will make my man’s blood boil.

The red boat-neck cashmere sweater dress I chose for tonight hugs my curves and hits just below the knee. The material accentuates my small waist and the deep red contrasts with my pale skin.

I’ve always been okay with what I looked like. I wasn’t blessed with big boobs, but I’m tall and trim, plus, Ryan’s adoration and desire for my body has given me a whole new sense of confidence.

One more look in the mirror, and my verdict? The dress looks hot, but I’m sure my man will be more interested in what I have on underneath.

There’s no time to bother with a lot of makeup—the rush of excitement has already sent color to my cheeks, so I apply some mascara and put on lipstick.

Today is a big day. Today I plan to tell my fiancé I want to set a wedding date and move in with him.

F
ive months ago
, I flew across the ocean to make a critical business transaction.

That was the luckiest day of my life.

I remember the moment my eyes landed on a tall, honey-blonde girl chanting something under her breath. Never in a million years could I imagine that’d be all it would take to shift my whole world.

Elizabeth hooked me from the start. Of course, looking at her mile-long legs, that begged to be wrapped around my waist, I wanted to fuck her. But the connection I felt with her was like nothing I’d ever experienced before. It was so much more than just a physical attraction.

Her guarded nature and pained eyes mirrored my own. From the very first day, her shy smile warmed the coldest parts of me. And when she saw my ugly, jagged dark edges, she didn’t run screaming. For some reason, she spotted something good in my hard and bitter heart.

Even though being around Liz is uncomfortably emotional, I want more of the feelings she’s awakened in me. I even like her smart mouth. Yeah, she isn’t afraid to tell me what she thinks of me, especially when I’m acting like an idiot. Each time her gaze firmly locks with mine, my world becomes bigger and brighter.

In my world, money and status rule everything. If someone does something for you, he expects something in return. Elizabeth doesn’t. She just wants me. My presence. My attention. My affection.

Every day she impresses me more than any other person ever has, and that sass—that defiance in her eyes when I do something she doesn’t like—God, she drives me crazy. At the same time, her body makes me mad with lust.

We’re worlds apart, but we’re the same: lonely and in pain and craving each other.

Together, we’re mending each other’s scars. And we’re are so fucking happy.

The captain announces preparations for the plane’s descent and snaps me out of my thoughts. I run my hand through my hair and try to banish the guilt pressing against my shoulders.

For five long months, I’ve found some kind of excuse to avoid telling Liz the truth about her parents. Knowing that the revelation will hurt her keeps my lips locked on the subject. So far, I haven’t come up with a way to soften this blow.

Liz’s grandmother, Maria, is no help. Doctors say her Alzheimer’s is progressing, and the drug trial concluded without any considerable changes in her state.

Last week I called Samuel Young, Liz’s father’s lawyer and best friend, who also happens to be her ex’s father. As much as I didn’t want to talk to the man, he was my last option. Samuel wasn’t straightforward at first, but when I told him I was Liz’s husband, he told me her parents left nothing in their safe deposit box regarding her adoption.

Today I’m telling Liz the whole truth. I’m coming home from New York, and she'll be waiting for me in the same spot we met six months ago.

Shit, I really hope she’ll forgive me for this.

We’re strong. We’re good. It’s going to be okay.

C
old wind bites
my cheeks as soon as I step out of the car. I slip my hands deep into the pockets of my warm, wool coat.

Even though it's late February, spring is nowhere in sight. Russian winters aren’t as brutal as they say, but they’re a pain in the ass, especially when you’re dressed to impress.

My heels click on the sidewalk as I hurry inside the terminal. Excitement bubbles in my stomach with every step I take. As usual, the airport is bustling with people. I love it, the energy of the crowd, or maybe it’s my good mood talking.

For so long I hid behind grief, lost in memories and old dreams. I wasn’t really living. Now, I’m making progress in therapy, I have a great job, and an amazing fiancé who behaves as if I’m the reason he breathes. For the first time in five years, I have plans for my future, and it feels good.

I can say, without a doubt, I’m living a real-life fairy tale. Don’t get me wrong, my man can be stubborn and possessive, but I’ve found ways to keep him in line.

Speaking of my man...

My heart takes off in a sprint when I notice him passing the arrival gate and walking toward me, his eyes locked on mine.

He looks breathtaking in blue jeans and a black V-neck sweater that fits snugly across his wide shoulders. His black coat is folded over his arm. I melt when I see a bouquet of white orchids and freesias in his hand—the same type flowers he gave me after our first night together in Monaco.

Ryan’s perfectly styled dark hair is a little longer on top than on the sides; he’s recently had a haircut.

God, it feels like every cell in my body is drawn to him.

My fiancé is gorgeous.

Pushing away the swell of lust that accompanies the sight of him, I wave my hand holding my homemade ‘Mr. Best-Fiancé-Ever’ sign high in the air.

A million-megawatt grin grows on his face.

He pushes his way through the thicket of people and pulls me into his arms. Before I can utter a word, he kisses me desperately. His tongue is soft and warm and tastes like coffee and mint. His mouth moves against mine with a hunger that sends warmth cascading through me. The crowd milling around us isn’t rushing him. Not in the slightest.

I love his greediness, his intense need. I love how he’s holding me in his arms as if I’m something precious and sacred.

I whimper when he pulls my bottom lip into his mouth, giving it a tug and soft peck before reluctantly pulling away.

“God, I’ve missed the taste of you,” he says, running his fingers through my hair. His expression is full of wonder as he looks down at me.

I can’t but grin like a lovesick fool and murmur, “I missed all of you.”

His smile is replaced by longing, and his lips are on mine again. This time he kisses me tenderly, gently, warming my body and my soul.

When he places his forehead against mine, I look into his soulful green eyes and become weightless. God, I want to suspend time and remain in this moment forever, filled with love, happiness, and belonging.

“I love the sign you made for me.” The tenor of his voice sends a wave of arousal through my body.

“I’m glad to hear it. How was your flight?”

“Long. Lonely. But I managed to do tons of work.”

“Tell me all about your trip. How’s Mark? Did you tell him about your plan?”

For years, Ryan plotted to destroy Price Corp.—the empire his father built and loved more than anything. Now that my fiancé holds the majority of shares, he can split the company. It’s his way to get some sort of retribution for how their father treated Ryan and Mark their whole life.

“My sweet little Liz, always with twenty question fired all at once. These are for you.” He gives me the bouquet.

“Thank you,” I say, bringing flowers to my nose.

“Mark is on board with everything, but we talked and came up with something else.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Bringing down my father’s beloved empire has been my goal for years—maybe even decades—but the bottom line is, he’s dead. Rotting in the ground, or better yet, burning in hell. And even though it’s like he got away with everything … damn, Liz. I realized that the only ones who’d suffer are all the people who work for us. They have families, kids, mortgages, student loans, dreams. Under a new owner, it’ll be almost impossible for me to make sure the thousands of them will keep their jobs and benefits. Ruining people’s lives, making them suffer—that’s what my father did all his life. I don’t want to follow in his footsteps.”

“So you’ll let it go?” I ask almost unbelievingly. My fiancé never does anything halfway.

“Mark suggested something else. Our father hated charity. He donated millions every year, but all that was for looks. So I think donating all the profits from the companies and hotels to charity would be fitting.”

“Well, that’s sounds … wow. Are you sure? What about the board of directors and shareholders?”

“Our shareholders will have their profits, as usual, but the profits from my sixty percent can be donated. I need to consult with my financial advisors, but I think it’s a great idea.”

“It is, Ryan. God, I’m so happy you’re home!”

He puts his coat on, takes my hand, and twines his fingers through mine. “Come on, then. Let’s go home.”

“Yeah, let’s,” I agree, smiling at him. We move through the airport and chat about what I’ve been up to while Ryan’s been gone. It’s difficult to avoid admitting I have tons of surprises for him on our way home. Instead, I tell him I went to the local college admissions office yesterday and found out they have some great evening classes.

“That’s an amazing idea, sweetheart. You should try taking some and then see how it goes.”

“I think so too.”

As we make our way toward the car, fat snowflakes drift lazily from the sky. The weather is perfect for what I have in mind.

When we reach the parking lot, Ryan suddenly takes me in his arms and whirls me around.

“You’re crazy, Price.” I laugh as he sets me down.

He nods his head. “I’m definitely crazy about you.”