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“You promised me you’ll share if I did. Remember?”
I frowned. “Alive.” My voice was curt, hopefully she’d take the hint I didn’t want to talk about them. I never did. Reporters often tried to get my backstory, but it wasn’t anything I wanted to share.
“What do they do?” She pressed further.
Well, shit. I should have figured she’d ask more. I took a sip of my drink, silently debating whether or not to tell her.
“Raymond?”
I drew in a deep breath, summoning the courage. “My Mom was a prostitute, and my dad a drunk, they sold me off to the monastery when I was seven.”
“Goodness! I’m so sorry about that.” She stared at me, huge eyes full of shock and concern. “How did you survive? Were they good to you at the monastery?”
I smiled grimly staring into space “Every single moment, I would torture myself with the thought that because I was a bad boy, my parents sold me off. I remember fervently promising myself to be a good boy forever if they came back. They never did.”
She had her hand across her mouth and her eyes glittered, with what? Tears?
“No child should have to go through what you did, Raymond. No one.” She pronounced fiercely. I felt uncomfortable looking at the raw display of emotions in her eyes and maybe a little bit touched, no one has ever cried for me before.
“Well, the joke’s on them. I mean, look at me now.” I leaned back comfortably on the chair, my hand on my head. “I can well and truly afford to buy that monastery ten times over.”
“But are you happy?” She prodded. “Money can buy most things in life but not happiness.”
“I feel happy when I make money. So yes, in answer to your question, I’m happy.”
She leaned back with a disapproving gaze, and I was struck by the fleeting thought that I’d disappointed her in some way. I knew what she was expecting to hear, but the last thing I’d ever admit to anyone would be just that.
That ever since that day, I’d been haunted by the thoughts that I would never be good enough for them no matter how much I tried. So what was the use of trying? Might as well live life without any attachments or expectations from people. No commitment, no disappointment. No disappointment, no heartbreak. Made the world so much simpler to live in.
“Have they tried to reach out over the years?”
“The old man reached out to me recently, but it was only to ask for money. Laughable, because I once thought they were redeemable. But I see now that they are the same. Selfish and self-centered beings who care only about lining their pockets.”
She was looking at me strangely, like she could see beneath all of my facade. Like really see me.
It was unsettling, I couldn’t have her psychoanalyzing me. I’d had enough of it from psychiatrists over the years.
“You know, Princess, if I didn’t know better with the way you are looking at me right now, I would be tempted to say you want me in your bed tonight.”
That did it, she recoiled like she’d just been slapped.
Her eyes narrowed.
“Have you always been an asshole or did life turn you into one?”
“What can I say...?” I responded grinning happily.
“It’s my specialty.”
CHAPTER 7
SOPHIE
Istared at him, in a mixture of shock, concern and a sprinkle of annoyance. He was trying so hard to push me away. If he thought making a flippant remark about getting him in my bed would shake me off, he should think again. How could one human have endured this much? My heart ached for the little boy who was forced to grow up so fast. No wonder he detaches from people easily; it was a survival tactic for him.
I almost reached out to take his hands in a form of reassurance, but I was afraid he might misinterpret my actions as some form of encouragement to his advances. Did the man never receive any form of tenderness at all? It was a testament of his will that he built an impressive construction company – one of the best in the world. He was listed in Forbes under 30 CEOs early this year, and he was a major shareholder in Empirim, the biggest Media and PR firm in New York. He had truly done well for himself, but what was the use of that money when you lacked the most important things of all? Trust, love, and commitment.
“We should get going, it’s pretty late.” His voice cut into my thoughts.
