The caption was direct to the point. Kokinos heiress, presenting Damen Leventis with his own engagement ring, possibly starting a new tradition in Greek high society.
Memories burned her mind, of herself in the arms of the man who now belonged to another woman – who had always belonged to another woman, even when he had taken her virginity.
She returned the newspaper to its stand, taking her time because with the way her hands were shaking, she might end up dropping it – or tearing it into pieces.
“I don’t think I’m going to borrow that after all, Carrie,” she heard herself saying faintly.
“Oh? Why not?”
“I think…I’m in the mood for some Stephen King instead. Or maybe some Romeo and Juliet. Anything where somebody dies please.”
Chapter Two
To trust a Greek billionaire, one must remember that he is the type to always go after you.
She said: And most times, it’s to remind a girl that she’s “lucky” to have them.
He said: I am a changed man now, matakia mou. These days, I am willing to wait until you admit it is so.
Damen nodded his thanks to the principal before walking past her, doing his best to keep his stride at a regular pace even though his heart was beating a little faster. He told himself it was just his imagination, but he knew it wasn’t.
No one looking at him would know he was uneasy. Everyone would have thought he was cool and collected, no different from how he typically appeared on TV or print.
He was also dressed exquisitely, his Italian suit handmade and somehow making him sexier than a guy in swimming trunks. There was just something about a man capable of carrying a ten-thousand-dollar suit without any difficulty that was infinitely appealing, breathlessly so if the gasps of the teachers and students who spotted him were anything to go by.
Again, he relied on his GPS to search for his sister, and it took him out of the school building and into an old but picturesque stone path that led to a greenhouse. As he came closer, its glass walls revealed its occupants, which were Diana and…
****
“You don’t say…yay anymore.”
Mairi glanced up, startled, and then she was tempted to look away again when she realized it was Damen’s younger sister talking to her. Diana strongly resembled Damen in looks – strong enough that it made her remember what she had been trying for so many sleepless nights to forget.
The dark-haired girl had an uncertain smile on her face, forcing Mairi to muster a smile of her own. Diana’s shyness came from having an unsupportive mother, and having met Esther Leventis herself, Mairi could certainly relate.
“You mean I say it less than a hundred times a day?” She wanted to sound lighthearted, but her voice cracked at the end.
“Something like that.”
Diana was still at the entrance of the greenhouse, hovering, and Mairi waved at her to come in. A feeling of déjà vu struck her, but she pushed it aside.
Her student came to her side, quietly gazing as Mairi continued to arrange the newly transplanted roses. The head gardener had used a small portion of the monthly budget to replace old and broken pots with beautiful clay ones, and Mairi had volunteered to take over the arrangement.
These days, she liked volunteering for anything. It helped take her mind off things, never mind if it also added permanent dark circles under her eyes.
“Are you homesick?” Diana asked. She missed the old Ms. Yay, the one that kept them laughing, deliberately or accidentally. But nowadays, the older woman appeared sadder, weaker, and thinner – like someone wilting away.
“Yes,” Mairi lied.
There was a small noise behind them, the glass doors sliding open once more. Thinking it was the head gardener, Mairi turned, a proud smile on her face because she truly thought she did a good job with the arrangement.
But it was not the head gardener.
Rather, it was the guy messing with her head.
Damen Leventis walked towards them with an air of arrogance and icy hauteur. He looked more gorgeous than she had allowed herself to recall, more masculine, more sophisticated – more everything than she wanted him to be.
It made her extra conscious of how less she was, compared to the old her. Mairi was also underdressed compared to him, in an oversized baseball shirt and an old pair of flannel pants.
From now on, I’m going to do gardening in Chanel and Louboutin heels, Mairi told herself even as she felt herself getting paler and paler the closer Damen got to them.
Finally, he stopped at his sister’s side. His lips curved into a warm smile as he bent down to receive Diana’s kiss on his cheek, her face glowing with surprised pleasure.
“What brings you here?” Diana asked excitedly.
He smiled briefly before turning to Mairi. It was the only time he allowed himself to fully take in how she was, and the sight of her was like a punch to the stomach.
It wasn’t because she was more beautiful or sexier. If anything, she had become a paler version of herself. But what stunned Damen was how much he had missed her.
And he did, more than he thought possible. He looked at her and he wanted to kiss her, wanted to take her into his arms and lose himself in her scent, her touch, her passion.
He wanted so many things, but the moment their gazes met, another feeling struck him. Guilt. The hot and shameful kind, making Damen feel defensive and causing him to sound chillingly polite as he said, “Ms. Tanner.”
He was speaking to her as if nothing had happened. It made her feel cheap and stupid. How could he speak to her like that? She opened her mouth to try and do the same, be polite and not let his sister and student know that they had a past.
But no words came out.
Because at that moment, she saw the ring around his finger, gleaming under the strong and powerful lights of the greenhouse.
When she had gotten back to her room from the library that night, the first thing Mairi had done was research about the party the couple had thrown. She had been hoping for a simple article, but with just one search she had gotten the worst results – official video coverage of the event, posted on the Leventis Incorporated’s website.
She had watched with eyes blinded with tears and a heart that kept bleeding as Alina Kokinos had offered a ring to Damen.
“…a small token of my deep happiness and the honor and privilege I feel for being your future wife.”
But it had hurt even worse when Damen had taken the ring and worn it, saying amidst thunderous applause, “I am honored by your token and will treasure it always.”
A small pain-filled cry escaped her, the memory like a knife stab to the heart.