The Greek Billionaire and I

And then he sat back down and waited.

It was the longest wait of his life even though he knew only hours came to pass.

It was afternoon the next day when he heard back from his security expert. Mykolas had not slept a single moment, feeling like if he did, God would punish him and give Mykolas news that he would be too late to act on.

When he saw that his employee had sent him numerous pages of court documents, Mykolas did not know what to make of it.

The first pages were of crimes committed by Wayne and his wife Lindy Garfield. The fact that the other man was married made Mykolas grimmer. Was this man some kind of pervert who had preyed on Velvet when she was young and vulnerable, made her fall for him even if he was a married man?

The next set of papers was about a case filed by Dotty Garfield, Wayne’s daughter. There was a grainy photo of her attached to the document, and Mykolas paled when he realized it was a younger version of Velvet.

Below was her handwritten plea to the judge for a change of her name as well as withholding her identity from her parents.

Your Honor,

My name is Dorothy Garfield. I am called Dotty by family and friends. I was seven years old when I found out about the unhealthy and dangerous habits of my parents. I was ten years old when I was first exposed to the individuals who had chosen to turn such habits into profitable trades. I was eighteen years old when I survived a shootout between my parents and the suppliers they had failed to pay.

I am twenty now, and last month my father had provided my address to strangers with the intention that they steal my money and any valuable possession they may find in my home. I fear that this will not be his last attempt.

I have been advised by my legal counselor to press charges against the individuals and my parents, but I fear that this would only create a cycle of hatred. Instead, I request that all individuals who choose to profess their guilt be sent to rehabilitation and for a permanent restraining order be filed against them for my protection. Charges will be filed against those who choose not to submit a guilty plea.

Lastly, I would like to request for a change of my name. If in your kindness you see fit to approve my request, I would like my name to be changed to Velvet Lambert. Velvet is to remind me of the fabric worn by the woman my father had sent to my place of residence to perpetuate a crime. Lambert is to remind me of the last name of the couple who had called 911 when they found me bleeding in front of their door.

This is to remind me, Your Honor, that the evil in this world requires me to be strong but the good in this world will not allow me to suffer alone.

I humbly beg you for your consideration. It is in your power to grant me a second chance to live my life and start fresh. When I was eighteen, I was able to speak with a professional drug counselor and doctor – she, too, was a victim of crime caused by drug abuse. She told me that my best chance of surviving this ordeal was to free myself from bitterness and to love freely and without fear. I have no idea if I will be able to do this, but I want to. With your help, Your Honor, I have a chance to. So with utter humility, I beg that you approve my unconventional request.

Sincerely,

Dorothy Garfield.

Slowly, the pages slipped past his fingers, falling to the floor like daggers dipped in innocent blood. A dagger he had cruelly and mercilessly wielded to reduce Velvet to tears and used to cut her heart out.

Mykolas looked down blindly on the floor, seeing the drops of his tears splash against the papers. Velvet. Her name echoed in his mind like a melody from heaven that he had no right to hear. Velvet. Velvet, Velvet.

He remembered her screaming at his face, screaming with so much pain. God, he would never forget the pain in her eyes when she had seen him with another woman. And he had deliberately made her see that.

Everything was so f*cking clear now. The money she had given away, the money she had spent on Chantal’s ticket…the money she had saved all these years had acted like a security blanket for her, a way to make her feel strong even if she was alone.

But when she had met him, when she had made the mistake of falling for him, she had given it all away. She had burned all of her bridges because she wanted to prove to herself that she trusted him. She trusted him to love her and protect her.

And yet, all he had done was humiliate her.

God, God, God, what he had done?

And what the f*ck would he do now?





Chapter Twelve




Five weeks had passed, and there still wasn’t any sign of Velvet. His men constantly monitored all planes and ships bound for America from every exit point in Greece, but so far none of them had yielded any records about having a passenger named Velvet Lambert or even Dorothy Garfield.

And today, his visits to all of Velvet’s known acquaintances, including a particularly hard one to her closest friend Mandy, had all been unproductive, leaving Mykolas exhausted and deeply worried. If anything happened to her, he might as well die. He would not be able to live with himself if she had been hurt because of his cruelty.

“Mr. Sallis?”

His secretary’s hesitant voice made him pause before entering his office. “What is it?”

“I was cleaning my drawers this morning and I, umm, I found something that may have belonged to…” As if unable to continue, his secretary simply handed him a brown box.

Opening it, Mykolas was stunned to find a recognizable piece of Velvet’s underwear – the very same one she had worn…

For their wedding.

He knew because he had been the one to help her put it on himself.

“Thank you,” he said roughly before striding into his office and slamming the door shut. He gripped the small piece of fabric hard. It was at that moment he wished he really was an idiot – or at least stupid enough not to be able to piece the clues together and figure out how his wife’s underwear had gotten there.

But unfortunately, he was only a f*cking idiot when it truly mattered.

And so his mind recreated the scenario for him.

Velvet, learning about his request for her to meet him at his office—

Velvet, thinking he was no longer able to wait to have her before they left for their honeymoon—

Velvet, taking off her panties in hopes she could surprise him—

But Mykolas had ended up surprising her instead, and in the most humiliating way possible.

With shaky hands, he pushed the panties into his pocket. Right now, it felt like his only link to her even if he doubted it would yield any kind of information regarding Velvet’s whereabouts.

Taking his seat behind the desk, Mykolas closed his eyes wearily and tried to place himself in Velvet’s shoes one more time. She had left her bag in his office. She had spent all her money, and after what he had done, she wouldn’t even think of spending his.

She would feel vulnerable…naked…because of his callous actions, because of how his betrayal had turned her supposedly pleasant surprise into a twisted joke. She would have wanted to bolt. To hide. He was sure of that, but he also knew she would be too proud to ask for help from any of her friends.

What was left to her?

And that was when it hit him.

She had nothing left but a ticket.

****

Velvet was tired.

Not just physically, but inside, too, where the exhaustion went bone-deep. Maybe even deeper, to the point that even just thinking made her feel like passing out.

It was a Friday night, and the bar was rowdier than usual. More drunkards, too, but she hoped to God none of them would be as violent as the truckers from the other town last week. They had almost demolished the entire bar, costing Mr. Rodrigo thousands in repair work. They were put behind bars, of course, but that hadn’t given the bar owner recompense for what he had spent.