Billionaires Meet Millionaire (A Steamy Romance) (20 page)

Again he
realized that the balance of knowledge between the two of them was
skewed to her advantage. She was about to know the innermost
secrets of his life and here he was with little to no knowledge of
hers. Since their conversation that last Sunday he, and the others,
had pried but Olta had not been forthcoming. Oh sure, when it came
to inconsequential superficialities or facts and fables about
Holland, sorry the Albania, she was a fountain. But when it came
down to it she was just like him.

She wasn't
going to get away with it though, she might stall it a little
longer but then it would be her turn.

Right now,
however, it was time to enjoy the intermission.

This time his
kiss wasn't tentative, it was a possessive kiss. A kiss to make
clear just how much he cherished her. Because, gods above, he was
falling and he was falling hard. Maybe he was already there.

And what a
kiss it was. That first kiss hadn't been a fluke; it had only been
an appetizer.

Contrary
to his previous thinking, kissing was truly an excellent way to
spend the time. Niall felt he could do this forever.

And
breathing was a true spoil sport. On the other hand,a thoroughly
kissed Olta was a sight to behold. Just looking at her was
something Niall could do forever too.

His arms
were starting to complain about the weight and Niall gave Olta a
quick peck on her lips before he lay back down. Instead of
snuggling up to him, Olta turned on her side, facing Niall and
resting her head on her hands. Niall matched her pose, only one of
his hands somehow got busy playing with her hair. His hands really
liked her hair.

"What
happened to the baby?" Olta asked softly.

Niall
sighed. Playtime was over, time to move on with the
story.

"Well,
after the girl had died both the man and his wife mourned. The
man's father however was almost pleased with the girl's death. He
said that it was a good that it ended the way it did. Now they
could give the child away, to the girl's family or to an adoptive
family and none would be the wiser. The Foy name wouldn't befall
anymore harm. You see, nobody knew the whole truth about the
situation. They knew that the girl was a friend and some people
knew of the history between the man and the girl. But nobody knew
that the man was the father. It wasn't that the man hadn't wanted
to tell the truth but the wife and the girl had insisted on keeping
things silent. For the time being anyway. However, during their
pregnancy the women and the man had discussed several possible
scenarios for how to proceed after the babies were born. And when
the complications arose the girl had insisted that they also worked
out something in case she'd might not make it. But both the wife
and the man refused to discuss the possibility of death. Now it was
never a point of discussion for the man that he would acknowledge
the baby. It was his after all. The wife decided that the only
sensible course of action would be for her to adopt the child.
Against the express wishes of the grandfather they did just that.
The wife and the man accepted, loved and cared for both boys, never
making a difference between the two. And they lived happily ever
after. The end."

Niall
said, smiling wryly. If only that had been the
truth.

Olta
raised her eyebrows at him but said nothing. Instead, she
gave him another soft kiss. If this was her way of comforting him,
well then she could just comfort away.

"Now
tell me the epilogue to this tale of sadness." Niall quirked an
eyebrow at Olta's phrasing. Wasn't it Bart Simpson who had said
something like that?

But true, it
was a sad tale and there was no happily ever after.

"Right,
okay. Now I've never told anybody about most of this, just like
nobody knows the truth of the situation. Even Peter, Bailey have
only heard bits and pieces and they were around for most of it. So
just bear with me, okay?" Olta nodded.

"Right,
well Daniel could never deal with having to share Victoria's and
father's or anybody's attention for that matter. Matilda told me
once that when he was about six months he started to notice that I
was around as well. As soon as anybody would give attention to me
he'd start wailing. Eventually even going as far as to get angry at
someone who had been giving me attention. Now, after a couple of
months they all wised up to this so it didn't work anymore. But
Daniel quickly adapted and became more manipulative in his tactics
to get attention and more importantly to make sure I got less. And
he was good at it. He would use different tactics. And not all of
them were to my disadvantage. Sometimes he'd make deals with me.
For instance I could play with some of his favourite toys if I gave
up on a bed time story. But even as toddlers and in kindergarten he
would occasionally use violence against me. Well I don't remember
as toddlers but I do have early memories of a violent Daniel.
Actually I've a lot of those, period."

Niall
let out a humourless laugh.

"Anyway,
We didn't know any better. It wasn't until one time in class that
because of some stupid reason Daniel got angry with me. In front
the entire class he called me a bastard for the first time. You
know what it means, right?" Olta nodded.

"Same word in
Dutch. Except for an extra a. So he meant that literally then?"

"What?"
Niall asked, unsure for a moment what Olta was referring to. Right,
of course, it had been tossed around during the last
dance.

"Oh yes,
it's his favourite. He likes to rub it in. But at the time I didn't
have a clue what he was on about. The teacher did, of course, but
she thought he was just calling me names. So she scolded Daniel and
he yelled that Mommy wasn't my mommy and that grandfather had told
him so. I felt like the whole world had just been pulled from its
axes."

Niall
paused again. It still hurt. It had been the first time
Daniel had spoken with that now trademark spite and evil glint in
his eyes.

"The teacher
informed Victoria and father of the incident and that night
Victoria came to my room and explained the story as best she could.
It was the first time she told me the story, albeit a much simpler
version. She made it very clear that she loved me very much and
that nothing would ever change that and that she would always be my
mother."

Niall
breathed deeply and Olta gave him a soft smile.

"But
Daniel had other ideas. He told me I couldn't call Victoria mommy
anymore. I, of course, didn't care for it. Even though I had gotten
curious about my real mother, Victoria was still my mommy. So I
didn't stop. Daniel was stupid enough to throw a tantrum about it
in front of father one time. I have never, to this day, seen my
father that angry. It shocked Daniel into obedience for a couple of
months. He didn't even dare threaten me about it behind their
backs."

Niall
briefly chuckled at the memory of Daniel's ashy white face
after their father was done.

"However, things weren't meant to last. By the time we were
in second grade Daniel had decided that Victoria and the Foy legacy
were rightfully his. That last part wasn't his own idea. Our
beloved grandfather, who still lived in a secluded part of the
house doted on Daniel but despised me, he simply denied my
existence. Daniel adored his grandfather and I've no doubt that's
where his ideas on family pride and honour come from. Simply
because I know father loathes the whole concept. He's a bit
hypocritical about it, though, but that's beside the point. Anyways
where was I?"

Niall
tried to refocus. He noticed he was getting tired and his
throat was slightly parched. But he was getting to the end and he
wanted it over with. Dragging out this painful trip down memory
lane really wasn't fun anymore. He felt his eyes tear up. Now that
was one thing he was not going to do. Telling her pretty much
everything, okay, but crying in front of Olta wasn't on his to do
list. Ever.

"Right,
so Daniel became obsessed with this idea of doing the family name
proud and keeping me away from Victoria. Victoria became an issue
we fought over, again and again. She wasn't my mother. I'm nothing
but a bastard son who never was entitled to her love and affection
or worthy of the Niall’s name. Shit like that. And slowly but
surely it became a ritual. By the time we were ten we would get
into a fight about every month and every month we would get in
trouble at home over it. We'd both keep our mouths shut about it.
Daniel because he didn't want a repeat of father's anger and I
well,didn't want hurt Victoria's feelings.

Daniel
would use an assortment of more, shall we say subversive
techniques to get me so riled up that I would actually fight him.
But to the parents we became two unruly brothers who just didn't
get along. Finally father flat out forbade any violence between us.
That of course didn't stop us. We simply started to avoid doing
visible damage. Then Victoria got sick and died. Daniel blames me
for it. I don't know why. All I know is that ever since he finds
reasons, however small or insignificant, which will let him take
his anger out on me by any means possible. And guess what, I hate
him for it."

Niall
gave Olta another wry smile. He felt a couple of tears
running down his cheek. Fuck, why couldn't things just go his way.
Just this once.

Olta
shuffled closer to him and kissed him softly. But she
wasn't kissing his lips. She was kissing his tears away. That felt
pretty good actually. Maybe breaking down in front of his Tirana
wasn't so bad after all.

He let
Olta placate him with another couple of kisses before pulled her
into a fervent kiss. God, he could really get used to this. It even
took him a couple of moments to realize that tears were still
running down his face.

He drew back
quickly to wipe the tears from his face.

"That
picture in your bedroom, is it.." Olta asked in a shaky voice,
wiping away a missed tear from his cheek.

Niall
knew instantly which picture she was talking about. He only
had the one. Niall nodded with Olta's hand still on his
cheek.

"They were
beautiful."

Niall
smiled sadly and leant down to kiss Olta's
forehead.

"That
they were." Niall said before kissing Olta's cheek. He slipped his
arm underneath her so he could pull her closer.

"Do you
miss her?" Olta seemed unperturbed by his latest move. She caressed
his cheek lightly.

"Yes, I
do. Just like Daniel does." Olta nodded and Niall knew she had
caught his meaning. Daniel might be a sick psycho but he had loved
his mother very much. It was the only reason Niall had some
understanding for him.

"What happened
to your grandfather?"

Olta
hand moved to his hair before she withdrew it.

"Oh, he
died a year after Victoria. Cardiac arrest." Niall kissed Olta
lightly on the lips and drew back again.

"Tirana,
you're asking far too many questions. I just told you everything
and you still have questions?" Niall said with mock sternness as he
tapped her nose lightly.

"Oh but
I have. But I'm just full of questions; you know being the studious
kind and all." Olta said playfully but then she turned
serious.

"Thank
you for telling me." Niall heard in her voice and saw the sincerity
in her eyes.

"Thanks
for listening." Niall said in all seriousness before returning to
his mock sternness.

"Now I
appreciate that you've been such an attentive audience but now it's
your turn Tirana. Time to give up some give up something
substantial."

Niall
realized too late the double entendre in his last words. He
expected Olta to look up at him with mock resentment or maybe true
indignation but she was still serious. She hadn't picked up on it.
Good.

"True, I
do owe you a story myself. But not tonight, alright? I think we've
had enough for one night." Niall was surprised by the solemn tone
in Olta's voice. This didn't bode well for the story she was going
to tell him. No of course it doesn't, you stupid ass, Niall
screamed at himself silently, her father died not too long
ago.

Outwardly Niall only nodded.

"I
didn't mean tonight. I think we're done for tonight. What time is
it anyway?" Niall said trying to suppress a yawn.

"It's
six thirty. My mother won't be home for another hour. We could go
downstairs and get something to drink and to eat. Maybe put a movie
in. What do you think?" Olta said as she too tried to not
yawn.