The Greek Billionaire and I

She and Mykolas were both quiet as they stepped out, the two of them busy with their thoughts that they were completely oblivious to the line of gaping women queuing to use the ladies’. When they reached their seats by the bar, Mykolas ordered a drink right away. Velvet took her phone out, checking for incoming mail or messages, but it was really to distract herself from the fact that she was a BIG FAT LIAR.

She was cool with Mykolas Sallis not meaning to call her his love?

Like she said, big fat—

The breath was knocked out of her, and the rest of her thoughts completely disappeared when she realized the unread email in her inbox was from her lawyer, Lester Wilkins. He was a dear old man, having taken her on pro bono when she was eighteen and without a clue as to what to do with her life.

I have received a letter from Mr. Garfield, forwarded by his lawyer. I have, of course, reviewed the contents and it is my professional opinion – as well as that of a surrogate father to you – that you do not bother with it. But of course, it is still your right to read it if you wish, and I have scanned the content in the event that you prove stubborn and disregard my advice.

Velvet would have smiled if she could. Lester Wilkins was a cranky old man, and most of his pro bono clients tended to back out after just one hour spent in his office. But she hadn’t, and in the end, she had gained herself an invaluable ally.

Mr. Wilkins knew her very well. She was stubborn. She really didn’t have a choice. That had been the only option that allowed her to survive.

Velvet clicked the attached file to open it.

I swear this is the last time, Dotty. I need money—

The words shoved her back to the past. She was eighteen, and Wayne had shown up in her dorm, clearly out of it. He had woken up everyone on her floor with all his heavy knocks and loud cries. He hadn’t cared that everyone would know she had druggies for parents, and that they loved their green goddess more than they loved their own flesh and blood.

My friend Ernie told me about this excellent opportunity to make good and fast money. After this, I won’t ask you again. Never.

She was twenty and had thought the world was hers to conquer because Wayne and Lindy had successfully completed rehab. Velvet had thought they would be a family again. But the day they came out, they had borrowed money from her for one last joint. One last joint, Wayne had told her in a singsong voice. Please understand Mom and Dad. We need to do this. That was when she realized Wayne, Lindy, and the green goddess had always been a family – and she would never be a part of it.

You’ve done so much for me and your mom. If you want to meet with us anytime, you know we’re here for you. We love you very much, baby. We really want to see you.

Velvet remembered the first time she had refused to give them money and Wayne had gone berserk. Had slapped her so hard he had knocked her down. And Lindy was no better, urging her husband to knock more sense into their ungrateful brat. Didn’t Dotty know how close she had been to getting an abortion? Velvet owed them her life. Maybe she needed a couple more hard slaps to remember that.

I promise nothing’s going to happen to you this time. No one’s gonna hurt you again. And you know, I keep telling you it was a misunderstanding. I told her to insist that you lend her money. I didn’t tell her to rob you or threaten to kill you.

That was Wayne’s version. Velvet’s version wasn’t as rose-colored. He had sent his girlfriend – one of the many Lindy didn’t know about – to Velvet’s flat, and the older girl had been accompanied by teenage boys who were also desperate to do anything just to snort more cocaine into their systems.

It had been the worst night of Velvet’s life. Worse than the first time she had heard gunshots and realized her home was no longer a safe haven. At least when she was eighteen, when the bad men came, Velvet knew she had her parents on her side. That it was them versus the bad men who demanded blood or money.

But that night when she opened to the door to Wayne’s girlfriend? Her parents were the bad men, and they might as well have been there when the older girl threatened to give Velvet to the boys if she didn’t hand over all the money she had in her possession. Her parents might as well have been the one to hold the knife to her throat, might as well have been the one to terrify Velvet so much that she had jumped out of the third story window in an all-or-nothing attempt to escape.

You gotta put that behind in the past. It’s not good to hate.

He was so f*cking wrong. Even with her name changed, her identity held a secret as ordered by the court, she could never – would never – escape the past. It was with her all the time, coloring her judgment.

The past was what she thought about every time she scrimped and saved every penny of her salary, the fear of being helpless and alone like she had been at eighteen making Velvet fanatic about building a nest egg for herself.

The past was what made her hold a small part to herself, just so Velvet could be sure she would not be completely reliant on anyone – not even with Mandy or Mairi or even Mykolas – and risk having her heart broken when the people she trusted failed her. Again and again.

Your loving dad,

Wayne

Velvet closed her eyes.

Weak is a dick, weak is a dick, weak is a dick.

How so f*cking easy it was for Wayne to call himself her loving dad. And how f*cking funny was it that those three words made everything so clear.

Of course Mykolas Sallis had not meant it when he called her his love. How could she expect someone like him to love her when even her own dad thought a gram of marijuana was more important than her life?

No matter what she did, no matter how much she had changed, she was not really Velvet Lambert. She was Dotty Garfield, and she had to remember that so she wouldn’t end up believing she could have her own happy ever after.





Chapter Nine




Mykolas was restless. Something had happened last night, something that had changed Velvet. When they had gotten home, she had pretended to have a headache. And this morning, she had pretended to be asleep. It was clear that she did not want to talk to him, and he had no f*cking idea why.

Or did he?

Color stained Mykolas’ high-boned cheeks as he recalled the time he had taken her at the ladies’ room and he had called her something he had never called any woman before.

My love.

He leaned back on his seat and closed his eyes wearily. Goddammit, why did he end up saying those words anyway? And why did she have to make such a huge deal out of it? She hadn’t batted an eyelash even when he called her the same thing in Greek. So why now?

Besides, he was marrying her tomorrow. What more could she ask for?

But still the feeling persisted. He was not in the habit of leaving the office early, but he found himself curtly informing his secretary to cancel all his meetings for the day and driving back home at ten in the morning.

Damn you, Velvet, Mykolas thought even as he overtook another car in his haste to get back. He had a f*cking feeling that if he didn’t get back as soon as he could, the worst kind of shit would hit the fan.

And he was right.

****

Velvet counted ten full minutes since Mykolas left before she got out of bed. Leaving herself no time to think, she moved as quickly as she could as she took a shower and began packing her things. She might not have a job now, but at least she had enough money saved to tide her over until she figured things out.

Memories crowded her as she went through each room of Mykolas’ penthouse residence, which was really more like a one-floor mansion. A single floor that was probably the size of a basketball court –bleachers included.