Billionaire On Fire: The Complete Series (A Bad Boy Alpha Billionaire Romance) (44 page)

“Then stop lying to me! You want to have a
wife and keep the contract? Fine! Let me have my freedom back. That’s not too
much to ask is it?”

“
I don
’t trust that guy around you,” I said broodily. “He
has hurt you before and he will hurt you again.”

“And what do you think you are doing?” she
snapped loudly. She had clearly been holding it back so far and now the anger
was flashing red hot on her face.

“I am not hurting you... At least I had no
intention of fucking doing so.” I tried to catch her eye but she was looking
away from me.

“
Well, it
’s a little too late for that,” she said in a barely
audible whisper, making the knot in my chest feel heavy.

“
I am sorry. And I
’m sorry to say that I am not going to be
okay with you talking to that moron. It’s for your own good.”

“I know how to take care of myself. Been
doing it for twenty years without you, thanks. And if you’re going to be
sleeping with other women – and after seeing your wife, I don’t believe for a
second that you’re not, no matter what you say – then I should have the right
to at least decide who I keep company with.”

“For the last time, I am not fucking Gina.
Or anybody else for that matter.”

“For the last time, I don’t believe you.
And I have work to do,” she said, then without any warning stormed out of my
office, leaving me perplexed.

Chapter 3

Aria

These days, being inside an active
classroom was the only respite my mind got. Tired of Zayden, the contract, and
all the drama surrounding it, I had made a newfound resolution to concentrate
on one thing: school. If I was constantly thinking about numbers and graphs and
economics theories, there would be very little time to worry about much else. I
had begun staying in the library late every night and avoiding catching
Zayden’s eye while at work.

As my mind began drifting off in my Public
Finance class, I tried to bring myself back. Focus on school. That was my new
motto. My Econ and Finance teacher, Mr. Weber, and I were on excellent terms;
so far I had aced all his classes with top marks, so he often counted on me to
have the right answer. It was an extremely comforting intellectual environment
away from the royal mess that the rest of my life had become.

Class had just started and after Mr. Weber
finished taking the roll call, he made an announcement.

“Class, today I have a little bit of a
surprise for you.” He flashed his white teeth, as though very pleased with
himself. It made his old, wrinkly features light up a little bit. He didn’t
laugh very often. “
A surprise
guest!
”

Oh, that was interesting. Last year we had
had a guest in his Intermediate Macroeconomics class and it had been
incredible. He had brought in the Vice President of Finance of Dylan Motors –
a multi-billion dollar corporation
–
and he had told us his amazing rags to riches story and taken the class by
storm. Who could it be this time? There was a murmur of excitement through the
whole class and I couldn’
t
help
but
be overcome by enthusiasm myself.

“Our guest has taken time off his
incredibly busy schedule in order to speak in front of you today. Most of you
probably know him by name – if not, you should if you want to get anywhere in
the world of finance. The school and many professors far more capable and
venerated than myself have been trying to get him to come and speak for years,
but he has only now found the time. So we should consider ourselves extremely
grateful.”

You could slice the anticipation in the
room with a knife. Everyone was suddenly sitting upright with perfect posture,
and the guy in front of me, who usually napped through class, was ready with a
notebook and a pen. It was rare for the whole class to be so alert and present.

“Who is it?” a couple of students asked,
unable to conceal their excitement.

“He is a young man – much younger than
myself, to my shame – who has taken a family empire and built it into an
incredible corporation. Students, please let me welcome, Mr. Zayden Sinclar,
owner and Chief Executive Officer of South National Bank!”

Wait, what? I must have heard that wrong…
It couldn’t possibly be? No, no, no. This was just not happening. He wasn’t
going to walk into my classroom right now, it had to be some kind of a sick
joke. Maybe there was someone else with that name? Hah, I was being stupid. One
Zayden Sinclair who was the CEO of South National was more than the world could
or needed to take. I pinched myself hoping to wake up from a bizarre dream and
jumped with pain.

Unable to take my eyes off the front of
the classroom, I waited in a panic. Maybe he would cancel? Could I stealthily
escape the classroom before anyone noticed? I could pretend to faint, nobody
was going to see any reason for me to fake passing out, since nobody knew about
Zayden and I. And I was in Mr. Weber’s full confidence; he would never suspect
me of ditching a class for no reason. Yes, I could totally pull that off!

But just as I was gathering the courage to
fall down flat on to the floor, Zayden walked in, looking like he just zoomed
out of a magazine, and staring right ahead at me. The class broke into a loud
applause as though they had just seen the President of the United States. He
caught my eye with a sly twitch of his mouth, his face ridden with amusement,
and I looked away. I would have a full-fledged panic attack at any moment.

“Welcome, Mr. Sinclair,” Mr. Weber said
cheerfully. “Thank you so much for coming here to speak with our students
today. The class collectively could not be more excited!”

“Is that so?” Zayden asked Mr. Weber with
a slight laugh. “Collectively? Each and every one of them? Are you sure?” He
was facing Mr. Weber, but looking at me from the corner of his eyes.

If there were ever a time to want to
disappear into the ground beneath me, it was right in that moment.
 

“Of course!” Mr. Weber exclaimed in pure
delight. Gosh, did he have to sound so ridiculously excited? “In fact, I have
never seen my whole class so alert this early in the morning before. Everyone
is awake, for starters.”

Zayden chuckled, sending goosebumps down
my spine. If only he didn’t look so damn good, my life would be so much easier.

“That is very flattering. It is very nice
to see you all,” he said, now directly looking at me. “I have some questions
for you all, before I start yapping endlessly. Any volunteers?”

The whole class raised their hands as high
up in the air as it went. Except me, which was a mistake because it caught Mr.
Weber’s attention.

“Aria, why don’t I see your hand up in the
air?” he asked, looking almost hurt, as though I had personally offended him.

Shit. Great, Aria. What a wonderful way
not to draw attention to yourself. Should have just blended with the crowd!

“Uh, not sure I am quite up for
inquisition just now,” I said, looking at neither Mr. Weber nor Zayden, and
instead focusing hard on the concrete below me. I didn’t even notice how hard I
was clutching onto my dress until my palms started to hurt.

“What do you mean you’re not up for
inquisition?” Mr. Weber asked completely perplexed. He was used to a very
different version of me altogether. I wished there was a way to communicate to
him that I would rather swallow a vile of rat poison than be in that
room
without offending him. “Are you
feeling alright?”

There was my cue. No, say no, Aria. It
would then be easily over with and I could probably escape and not have to deal
with this whole ordeal. But I froze, unable to say a single word. I made a feeble
attempt at shaking my head but I doubt it looked like anything other than an
involuntary shudder.

“You seem pretty alright, Miss… Aria, was
it?” I heard Zayden’s voice.

“Yes, Aria Roberts. She is one of our best
and brightest,” Mr. Weber said proudly. “In fact, I am not sure you know – you
have thousands of employees after all – but she is already advancing her career
in banking by working as a teller at South National.”

“Ah,” Zayden said, flashing me a look of
pure amusement. “That’s where I know that face from! It all makes sense now. I
am glad to hear young talent like yourself works for me, Ms. Roberts.”

There was a definitely intonation in his
voice – especially a stress in the words
talent
and
works
, like
he wasn’t quite talking about my skills in banking.

“Since you were the least eager to answer
my questions, I suspect you will be the most honest in your responses.” He
looked at Mr. Weber. “Should I proceed?”

“Of course! Ask her anything!” he
exclaimed.

“These questions are basically a screening
of how much your students have learned before I go on to speak about my own
experiences. I want to tailor them to what is relevant to your students. As
such, complete honesty about the material covered is essential.”

“What do you want to know?” I asked, still
looking at Mr. Weber.

He shook his head. “No, no, not here. It
would be best if I could speak with you briefly in private, for maybe fifteen
minutes, so you feel more comfortable answering with honesty. My questions will
pertain to this class too, and perhaps there are things you wouldn’t want your
professor and fellow classmates to know.”

“I am perfectly comfortable right here,
thanks,” I snapped, unable to handle it anymore. Hopefully nobody caught the
bitterness in my voice, and even if they did, there was no way they could guess
what it was about. “You can ask me anything,” I added more evenly. “And you
will get a honest answer. There is nothing I have to say about Mr. Weber or
this class that he wouldn’t like to hear.”

“Be that as it may,” he pushed.
“Participation bias is a serious psychological effect, and to get the best out
of all of our times here, we must have an audience in private. Is that okay,
Mr. Weber?”

Now he was trying to be professional.

“Of course it is!” Weber exclaimed. “Aria,
why don’t you show Mr. Sinclair the conference room and answer any questions he
may have. Meanwhile, I will prep the rest of the class on questions we may have
for him in turn and make a list. You can add yours to it after you return.”

“Uh.” I was trapped. There was no way to
get out of this without raising suspicion or getting into Mr. Weber’s bad
books, which was something I simply could not afford. Zayden’s little game was
not worth my grades and academic performance. It was in my best interest to
suck it up and show him the “
conference
room.
”

“Fine,” I said finally. “Let’s go then,
Mr. Sinclair.” I added emphasis on those last words.

“After you, Ms. Roberts.” He looked
thrilled. Why wouldn’t he? After successfully ignoring him at his own bank, he
had found a way to get to me by showing up at the one place where he knew I had
to keep my cool. It must have been easy for him, calling up the Econ department
head and asking to make a guest lecture. He knew what classes I was taking from
when I was discussing schoolwork with him so he must have just easily dropped
the name of the most relevant class I was in and the department head must had
exploded in delight. I was starting to feel lightheaded just from thinking
about it.

As soon as we were out of earshot, Zayden
started chuckling. “How was that?” he whispered.

I said absolutely nothing until we reached
the nearest empty conference room. When we walked in, I closed the blinds and
locked the door so nobody could hear us.

“Really?” he said with a smirk when I turned
to look at him. “Here? Now? I’m flattered, sweetheart, but I suppose they are
waiting for us back in your classroom.”

My face went red from a combination of
anger and embarrassment. I wanted to punch him, or hurt him in some way for
pulling this crap. But for some reason, words just choked up in my mouth as I
watched his face light up. Why did Zayden Sinclair have this effect on me? I
closed my eyes and took a deep breath, resigned to not let myself be charmed by
his ways once again.

After gathering a considerable amount of
courage, I said, “What do you think you’re trying to pull here? Really Zayden?
Don’t you think you have crossed a line by showing up in my class?”

The hint of amusement was still in his
eyes when he said, “Don’t you think it’s a little egotistical of you to assume
I came here for you?”

Oh shit. If it was possible at all, my
face turned even redder than before, and I wanted to scream or cry or do
something completely ridiculous to make all of this go away.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to imply–”

“Aria, just stop. Of course I am here for
you. I’ve been trying to call you every single day! And I try to catch you at
the bank, but you rush to the other direction at the very sight of me as though
I am some kind of a monster. You left me no choice, did you?”