Caged (How Not To Be Seduced by Billionaires: Book 3) (20 page)

            Clearing my throat, I said weakly, “You look good today, too.”

            He laughed.

            I glanced at him in confusion and caught on right away with the amusement in his eyes.

            “Coffee’s here,” George trilled as he bent forward to place the tray on the table the same time I gasped in mock anger, hitting Drake’s arms. My elbow connected with one of the cups of steaming hot coffee.

The next thing I knew, Drake was hissing in pain as the burning hot liquid poured down on him, leaving a brown stain on his white polo.

"Oh my God, I’m so sorry!" Embarrassed, I quickly took a couple of napkins to prevent the stain from spreading further.

"Clumsy Yanna," George began to sing over and over.

I glared at him before returning to task. "I didn't mean it."

Drake gently pried my hand away. "It's okay," he said, smiling.

I started to smile back when I became aware of someone staring at me from a distance. It was Constantijin, and my heart squeezed painfully at the sight of him. Suddenly, I couldn’t pull my eyes away from him.

He looked even more beautiful than I let myself remember, dressed casually in a black polo and khakis, like he had come here from…a business meeting at the beach? I tried not to think about who could have been with him earlier because I had no right to wonder about those. It was the same reason why he shouldn’t be looking at me with bleak silver eyes.

It was over between us.

When his gaze drifted towards Drake, I held my breath. And then Constantijin slowly made his tense posture relax, managing a wry smile as he gazed at me.

We turned away the same time. George and Drake looked at me in understanding silence.

With an awkward shrug, I muttered, “It’s just…one of those things.” I wanted to sound breezy but failed.

George squeezed my hand. "It’s going to be all right, Yanna."

            I could only answer with a smile because these days I just didn’t know. Keeping my heart safe didn’t feel right or wrong. It just felt nothing.

            When George and I walked back to our office, having parted ways with Drake, he suddenly pulled me back by the arm.

            In the act of twisting the knob, I let my hand fall away as I gazed at him questioningly.

            “Yanna, it’s been more than a month.”

            “Yeah. I know.”

            “He’s told you he loves you.”

            “Yeah, I know.”

            “So doesn’t that tell you something…about
you
?”

            I started rubbing the sides of my temple because my head suddenly hurt. “George, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

            Pulling on the collar of his checkered polo, a sure sign that he was about to say something he didn’t want to say and I didn’t want to hear, George muttered, “You still haven’t left his apartment.”

            “But why would I when---oh.”

            The threat that was supposedly hanging over my head didn’t exist – had long stopped to exist. It stopped being a threat the moment Constantijin said he loved me. And I…I made myself forget that because I was a coward, too.

George squeezed my hand. "It's time to make a choice, Yanna. You can't keep punishing him forever."

            I blinked the tears away, not wanting to break down again at work Oh God, I was so stupid. I had pushed Constantijin away, but I couldn’t bear to let him go, and both of us were suffering because of it.

            “I…please tell Charli I had to go.” And then I was running out of the office.

            When I got home, I took out my suitcase, throwing them open on the floor. Then I started dumping my clothes into them, and every dress that fell into the suitcase made me cry harder because I felt so stupid.

            It was a struggle to pull the heavy suitcases through the doorway. They weighed, like, a ton, probably because I also had my
manga
collection in them. Grunting at the effort I was exerting, I pulled the door open and with one last mighty shove, I finally managed to push them out.

            I breathed a sigh of relief.

            “Yanna?”

            “Holy shit!” I think I jumped several feet off the ground when I heard Constantijin’s voice. It took more than a moment to get my breathing back in control and make myself turn around to face him.

            He stood by the doors that led to the fire exit, panting a little, but there was a small, beautiful smile playing on his lips. And I found out why he was smiling when he said wryly, “Holy shit, huh?”

            My eyes started getting itchy again. He remembered that, too?

            Then his gaze fell to the suitcases behind me and he sucked his breath, looking like somebody had stuck a knife in his chest.

            There were so many things I wanted to say to him, but coward that I now was, I mumbled, “W-what are you doing here?”

            “George,” was all he said, his gaze still on the suitcases.

            Just seeing him look so hurt made
me
feel hurt, my chest constricting so badly I just knew. Oh dear God, I loved this man so, so much. I started to speak, to explain what I just realized and what I knew I wanted to do, but he beat me to it.

            “Yanna?” His voice broke at the end.

            My tear ducts broke with it. I tried to smile but couldn’t. “Yeah?” And then I was gasping because Constantijin was suddenly standing next to me, holding my shoulders as he forced me to walk back. When my back hit the wall, his fists hit the surface with it, making me jump.

            “Constantijin!”

            “Yanna, what else can I fucking do to make you believe me?” The anger burning a light in his eyes slowly died as I gazed up at him, crying silently, trying to find the right words to put an end to all this.

            “Is this really it?”

            As I visibly struggled to speak, he cursed, making me flinch.

"God, Yanna, do I make you that sad? Can you never forgive me?"

            I tried to make him understand, but all I could choke out was “No.”

            He paled, and it was his turn to struggle to speak. “I…I understand. I have no one to blame but myself but please…
please.
” His voice turned hoarse. “Please don’t leave.”

            I could fear his fingers moving, his hands unclenching and clenching at each side of my face. Yet they never touched me, as if he couldn’t make himself to. “I don’t think I can bear it if you leave, Yanna.”

            Oh, God.

            “Constantijin, it’s not---”

            “Just don’t leave.” And then he was on his knees.

            “Oh my God. Get up, please.” I tried pulling him up but he had turned into immovable stone, his beautiful face a portrait of despair. “Let me explain, okay?”   

            “I don’t need you to explain how I fucked up, Yanna,” he said in a dull voice. “But you need to hear
me
explain.” He dragged a long, hard breath in. “I know you finally realized my threat was fucking bullshit.”

            I cried harder. His English had gone to hell, and his Dutch accent made me understand only half of what he was saying. It was one sign after another knocking on my heart, telling me to see what I should have seen all along.

            “Now you are leaving the first chance you get, but you need to give me just one fucking chance!” Constantijin shouted the last word as he gazed up at me in agony. “Just don’t leave. Anything you want, even if you want to have a fucking boyfriend and I’m the man you date on the side---”

            That he would say something like it, promising something that was almost like what his father had to go through when Marge wasn’t herself --- it sent me to my knees, too. “Constantijin, no,” I whispered.

            He grabbed my hand and pressed it to his cheek. “Yes,” he said brokenly. “If that’s what it takes to keep you with me. I love you that much.”

            I didn’t need to hear him say those words. I already knew it the moment George made me open my eyes to the truth. But when I did hear him say it, my world - which had been revolving in an uneven degree for quite some time – found its rightful place back.

Everything became clear. The right path - the yellow brick road everyone was looking for - showed up like a street of gleaming gold and it led directly to Constantijin.

My life was with Constantijin,
my
very own billionaire, the man who could hurt me a billion ways but could love me in a billion ways more.

No matter what happened, I loved him and I was going to be happy with him, unhappy without him.

I felt more than saw his hands trembling as they went to stroke my hair. "Please Yanna, please don't cry."

After a while, I finally managed to control my tears. I leaned back and smiled at him tremulously. "I wasn't going to leave."

He looked like he thought I was demented but too afraid to show it. "So what are the suitcases for?"

I choked back a teary giggle. I tried to pull away, but it only made him pull me into his arms, his lips touching my hair, kissing my forehead, erasing the trail of tears on my cheeks. "Stay a second more, Yanna," he said gruffly. "Please. I missed this."

But I stubbornly pulled away. I almost felt guilty at the look of devastation in Constantijin's eyes but he had to let me go, just for now. I needed him to see me clearly when I told him the truth.

“Constantijin, I was not leaving. I was moving back in with you.”

It took him several moments to react.

His face became grim. “So the things I did,” he said slowly.

“Yeah,” I said with a wobbly smile.

“The whole desperate, emasculating act---”

I winced, but I couldn’t stop smiling shakily. “Yeah.”

His Dutch accent very strong, he said, “There was no need for it at all?”

            “Sorry, but yeah.”