Page 10 of Interview with the Billionaire

One more entry, because I have to get it out. And better on paper than fulminating in my blood — Lena. The woman I’ve been fucking. I thought we had an understanding. That we were both burning off steam. Simply enjoying each other until we were tired of each other. And now she’s taken to the press to vilify me.

I have no intention of sinking to her level. As far as I’m concerned, she can say whatever the hell she wants, but if she’s looking for a reaction, she’ll get no satisfaction from me.

For that matter, perhaps she’s done me a favor. The truth is, I’ve found no no satisfaction—well, none more than physical—with any of the women I’ve gone out with, and certainly not within the last four years.

That was when I saw her. When I heard her speak to those stone-faced pageant judges. Not about bullshit causes that she knew nothing about. But about education and science. About learning and progress. About achievement and hard work.

The woman is stunning. Poised and beautiful. And yet that is not that attraction. At least not all of it. No, I find her fascinating. The way she thinks. Who she is.

She has become the standard against which I measure all other women, and none have lived up to the example she’s set.

I wonder what she would think if she knew that I was watching her academic career even as I have financed part of it. I haven’t cut corners for her—in fact I specifically recused myself from the committees that selected her. She did not need my help.

But now that my money is financing much of her education, it seems only fair that I should watch from afar.

She is the one.

Nikki Fairchild.

And since the day I first saw her, all other women have paled in comparison.

I want her. I can say it here, on these pages that I will soon abandon.

I want this woman. I want her submission, her trust, her love. I want to know that a woman such as her wants me as well. That she sees me and not the bank account.

I believe she would. No, I am certain of it.

And yet I don’t know if that day will every arrive.

If it doesn’t, will I spend the rest of my life lost in a sea of what might have been? Because I’d had the chance. For one shining moment in Texas, I could have taken her hand and run away.

She would have come with me; I’m certain of it.

But we both stayed.

And now I can’t help but wonder if we will be together again.

But, no. That is pessimism talking.

We will be together.

She is mine, after all.

And no other path is possible.

Every one of your scars reflects strength. But yes, he adds, brushing his lips over the C-section scar. “This one is definitely my favorite.

- Hold Me

Chapter 4: Family Time

The Story

“She’s waiting downstairs, and the others will be here soon. We should go.” She started to turn toward the door.

He took her elbow, tugging her toward him. “No. I don’t think so.”

She turned back to him, and he could see the question in her eyes. It faded, though, and in the same moment her eyebrows rose in both amusement and interest.