A/N. Hey guys! I’m writing this on the go, so expect it to not be edited. Typos, punctuation, grammar mistakes, etc. might be in place. Sorry about that… Hope you’re enjoying the story so far! Any comments on it would be awesome! Happy reading! Kisses!
I drive the car around, without aim, for an hour or so. Thoughts from every corner of these 16 years to present eat my mind alive. I see a supermarket. I pull over and park the car. I’m a mess. I feel like shit. I’m a shit. I want to scream out all my sorrows. I want to cry. I want to not give a damn on anything. I want to be free of all this. I’m so tired. I’m so out of my mind.
While my head is palpitating and my neck is like clenched on my left side, I find myself making a call. I don’t know whom I called. It happened so fast. I have the phone at my ear. When I hear the voice, I break into tears.
“Selena?” I don’t know why I called Don. Maybe because I have no one to call except my parents, Marta and him. Since my financial situation collapsed all the suit of friends I had turned into strangers. So much for real ones. I couldn’t call my parents. They need me strong and not take my weak side. Marta, I couldn’t call, it’s too much to explain and I’m tired. And I don’t know how much she would understand. Probably that’s why my mind chose Don.
“Are you crying? Selena! What happened? Say something! You make me go crazy! Where are you?” he’s worked up. I shouldn’t have called him. He’s not obligated to take my shit.
“Don?” I start sobbing.
“Baby, please. Just tell me already. I’ve never heard you cry. I’m on to my car. Tell me where you are right now, I’m coming.” I hear his car when it closes.
“I don’t know why I called you.” Still sobbing. “I’m so sorry.” I attempt to take a grip over my emotions, but I can’t. I worry him and I don’t want that.
“You did good to call me. Why are you saying sorry? You know you mean the world to me. What happened? Where are you?” he keeps a soothing voice that calms me a bit.
“I’m… I’m done with everything Don. I can’t take it anymore. I’m so tired, Don. I just want everything to end. I feel worthless. I feel like I don’t matter anymore. I just need it to stop. I fought a lot these years. I tried Don. I’m at the end already. I have to face it.” I sob and I get a dim voice. I’m tired.
“Don’t scare me, baby. This isn’t you! Please, for God sakes, tell me where you are! Don’t fucking kill me!” he snaps at me. I would too. “Selena? Are you there? Please. Tell me where you are. I’m begging you. Don’t do anything stupid.”
I take a deep breath. “I’m alright.” I push away all the thoughts I just had. “I’m good. It’s OK. I had too much lately.” I stop crying. I realize that my parents need me. I have responsibilities. I have to save the house. I need to make money. I need to run the company. I need to overcome everything. I can’t lose it. “Don?”
“Yes baby?” I can sense he’s heartbroken from his voice.
“You know I love you right? Not the way you want, but I do.” I get my strength back.
“I know. Where are you? I’m coming.” I’m so sorry I made him worry like this because of me.
“I’m in a parking lot at some supermarket. Don’t worry. I have my sanity back. I have to thank you for that. After the race tonight, I promise I’ll personally make you lunch for tomorrow as a thank you. I’ll prepare your favorite. See you tonight! Love you!”
I hang up the phone. I know he would want to come. But I want some alone time. My heart is warmed that I still have someone to talk to that knows and understands me. That I don’t need to explain myself or my actions. I take a picture of the supermarket and send it to him with the message “Here I am, but I’m going to my office. I’ll stay there until the race. Don’t tell me you won’t allow me, I need that money. Don’t come, I know you have responsibilities too. XOXO”.
He sends me a message back as I rejected his calls. “I’ll be waiting for you in your office. Don’t you dare not be there! Love you.” I guess I still have to see him. OK.
I get the car going but not before sending Dad a message, lying to him that I have some things to work on for my New York job and I’ll use the office. I tell him that I will be late and not wait for me for dinner. I feel bad for lying, but you can’t tell your parent that you are going racing at 31 and possibly get injured. He would freak out. I have no other ways to get money in the amounts that are needed. I don’t want this, but I have no choice.
When I get to my office, Don is sitting on my chair at my desk. “Sit.” He says having a look in his eyes that I have never seen before. I give in and sit. I’m responsible for this.
“Do you know how much I care for you?” he scans me with those stormy eyes.
“I know Don. I’m sorry. I lost it for a second. I usually keep it inside. I don’t know what happened.” I have a semi-submissive stance. I see how much affected he is. He’s tensed up and has a mad look.
“Selena!” he stands up and comes to me. He grabs me from the chair and takes me into his arms. “You kill me!” he tightens his arms around me. A tear makes its way down my cheek. I feel his strong muscled chest and his accelerated heart beats.
“I’m sorry… I’m human too. I have weakness too, you know?” I accept his embrace and hug him back. I think I needed a hug. It gets me back to my senses more. Thank you, Don. You’re an Angel. I don’t know what I would do without you. You’re always there for me.
“Stop saying sorry. I’m not mad for what you said, I’m mad for I thought I would lose you. If there is anyone in this world that would break me, that’s you. Don’t play with my heart, Selena. It’s half broken since five years ago. Don’t kill the remaining half.” He keeps me into his arms.
“I know. I’m OK. You won’t escape me. I would come back and hunt you if I’ll ever die of natural causes.” We both break into laughter. I want to break the embrace, but he doesn’t let go. “Don? That’s enough. Limits.”
“I don’t want to.” He says on a puppy voice. “It feels really good.” He tightens the grip more.
“Don! I can’t breathe! I’ll kick your ass!” I pull him away. He pouts. “Really? Don’t take advantage of my state. I love you, but not like that. Don’t cross the line. Please. You’re the only one I have.”
“Why can’t you accept me as a man? Just tell me. I would do anything you want me to. You know that.” His eyes are gloomy.
I brush my face with my hand while I close my eyes. I sight and turn my eyes back to him. “Don. I don’t need you to do what I want. I’m not taking advantage on you or your feelings. It’s not that is something wrong with you that I don’t accept you as a man. It’s just I don’t feel it. I don’t know how to explain it. I have no feelings for anything. I’m so soiled with problems. I don’t get to sleep very much. I have insomnia. I have no vacation for the last ten years. I have high blood sugar levels. All these don’t let me feel anything for any man. Since I caught my dad cheating…” I stop as my heart clenches when I remember.
He loved my mom. Forced her to marry him. Then he cheated on her and I caught him. I was 15. While I was taking care of my bedridden mother who went into clinical death right in front of my eyes, cleaned the house, cooked, learning for school and all, he was fooling around like a bachelor. And he loved my mom and still loves her. His one and only. But he had multiple mistresses. Well, until he ran out of money and understood that only family stays with you all the way.
“I wouldn’t do that to you. Trust me.” He makes a step towards me.
“Shut up Don! I’m sure he said same thing to mom, and he did what he did! I would never marry or be with a man! I don’t trust any of you! If there is something in my life that I can still control and have a choice over is my personal life! And I say fucking NO to that! I have enough life complications to willingly accept that too! That’s final! I thank God that I’m iced and not a stupid one to feel or believe in fake love! When you love, you don’t go and fuck around just because you have testosterone!” I motion my hand like crazy to make a point on everything I say. I’m mad right now. Not on Don. On Dad. Don didn’t cheat on me; we have no relationship to cheat on. But my dad had. And if someone who loved did that, I conclude all men do it. I don’t want the pain my mom had and still has.
“Selena. Please. Don’t put all men in same category. We aren’t all like that.” I don’t want to hear it.
“Well, I’m stubborn. My mind is made up. No one can change that. I have nothing against men, but I don’t want to suffer. To involve feelings, to put your heart and all into someone, and be trashed. No, thank you. I’m good. Oh! I’m so fucking good right now.” I go to my chair and sit at my desk. I keep my head on my hands and look at the desk. “I want to be alone. Please. Thank you for everything. I appreciate your feelings. But you’re wasting them on me. It’s not fair for you. I love you, but I can’t love you more. Please understand.”
“Are you into a relationship with someone else?” That question makes me raise my head and look straight into his eyes. He has his arms crossed, intensely looking at me.
“No. Why?” I really don’t have anyone, never did.
“Just asking.” He places his hands into his pockets and comes in front of my desk, bending over an inch distance from my face. “I will never give up on you. You will love me and accept me.” And he kissed the top of my nose.
“Don!” I want to slap him, but he takes his head back and avoids it.
“See you tonight!” he smirks and exits the office. That bastard! Never missing a chance to get touchy! I hate him!
A short chapter. You got to see a different side of her. The weak part. And how close she is with Don. How did you find this chapter? Hope you liked it.
Can’t wait to see your comments! <3 Love you all! See you in the next chapter!
Your true friend always,
ICY SHOTS ON A HOT BILLIONAIRE by Andra-Cristiana Stan, Romania. Copyright © 2019. All Rights Reserved
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.