Still the Billionaire's First Choice - Chapter 7

Felipe barely slept. He couldn’t believe he’d been such a fool. He didn’t lose control like that. He didn’t snarl, he seduced, and all obstacles in his path didn’t just relent—they rolled over. And Sophia had—she’d flared, pliant and willing, and he’d almost ravished her in his car like some teenager. That was the root of this problem, right? This was just teen lust reignited.

He paced to his bedroom, grimacing as his phone screen lit up like fireworks. The notifications had been endless. Not only had they been filmed last night, but some internet troll had also turned the moment Sophia left him on the dance floor into a lover’s tiff meme. It was appalling. As if they were celebrities in any way? But her ‘jilting’ by Ares Vasiliadis, one of the wealthiest men in the world, now had her branded as a gold digger, while he’d been cast as her newest billionaire catch. The irony was too much. Because six years ago he’d furiously offered her everything he had—simply himself. He’d actually, clumsily, proposed. Of course she’d rejected him. And he couldn’t bear remembering his reaction.

Tense, he skimmed the comments beneath the video, recalling her bitterness when she’d accused him of wanting her public surrender. Honestly, he’d just wanted her surrender full stop. He didn’t give a damn about anyone else; frankly, he’d forgotten others were even there. And now there was this online shitshow.

He flicked her hair tie across his fingers, avoiding the old Amaretti biscuit tin on the bottom shelf of his dressing room. He regretted so many things—kissing her again; not seeing her through to completion. Again. When was he ever going to learn?

But he couldn’t let this go. He needed to check she was okay—had she seen the socials scorn-fest?

An hour later he stood outside the grimy apartment building, pushing every buzzer until she answered.

‘Let me in.’ He had no capacity to be polite. ‘Now.’

Moments later she stomped down the stairs and barely opened the door. ‘What?’

It took nothing to shove the door wider, flashing his phone at her as he stepped in.

‘Ignore it,’ she clipped, barely glancing at the ‘Snare A Billionaire’ all-caps insult taking up the screen. ‘That’s what I do.’

‘Given your pallor and the dark circles beneath your eyes you’re incredibly unsuccessful at it.’

She gaped for a moment before heading upstairs with a theatrical sigh. He hated her baggy jeans and bulky tee. Hated himself more for noticing them. Seeking distraction, he glanced about her poky studio with distaste.

‘You don’t like my apartment?’

‘It’s small and in an unsafe area.’ The best thing about it was the convenient location of the unmade bed. He turned his back on that.

‘So you’re really a billionaire now?’ she murmured.

‘You didn’t know?’ He cocked his head. ‘Does it change anything? Make you more likely to say yes to me? Because just so you know, it’s pointless. I’ll never marry.’ He couldn’t contain his bitterness. ‘You should have said yes when you had the chance.’

Silence.

She rubbed her forearms but the goosebumps were still visible. ‘You delight in thinking the worst of me.’

Didn’t he have reason to? Why was she acting wounded when all those years ago she’d rejected him?

But last night had been different. He tried to breathe. Tried to resist. Yet, somehow he moved closer, and her mere proximity compelled the truth from him.

‘I don’t think at all around you,’ he muttered, too drained to pretend otherwise. ‘Or rather, I can think about only one thing regarding you.’

He needed to get beyond it; he really did.

‘So you’re not here to make sure I’m okay. You’re here—’

‘Because I can’t stay away.’

In less than twelve hours since seeing her again; in the cold light of day and stone-cold sober, he would be the one to surrender.

‘Does it please you to know your power?’ he asked huskily.

She shook her head. ‘You don’t want to want me—’

‘And yet I do. It’s the same for you.’ He wound his arms around her waist.

She didn’t just let him. She leaned closer. He would have the one who got away. Then be free of her—forget her. He lifted a hand and pulled the tie, releasing her ponytail in a quick tease as he’d done so many times in the past.

Her eyes softened. ‘Felipe…’

He didn’t just kiss her, he inhaled her. He didn’t know how he’d ever had the strength to stop before; he couldn’t possibly now. Urgently, he clamped her tightly against him but as he swept her tee from her body and finally saw her bared beautiful breasts, he stilled. He couldn’t let this be some fumbling rush that would be over too soon. They deserved more than that, didn’t they? If it was to be this once. He forced his gaze to her face and watched wariness return to her emerald eyes.

‘Don’t,’ she whispered.

He froze. ‘Don’t what?’

‘Don’t leave me this time.’