Pollyanna and the Greek Billionaire (Innocent and Betrayed, Part 2) (5 page)

Wiping the tears from her eyes, she saw that Kyr was staring at her, and the look on his gorgeous face made her gulp.
Oh, dear Lord.
Why was he looking at her like she was so precious to him? Even now, it still didn’t make sense. When would he realize it was the other way around, and she was the one lucky to have someone like him?

And then he was saying her name, his voice low and seductive, and her heart slammed so hard against her chest she was worried he would hear it.

Clearing her throat, she asked, “What is it?”

“Thank you,” he said simply.

“What for?”

“For giving me the twins.” His lips formed a crooked smile. “And for giving me the kind of life I should have dreamed of but didn’t.”

****

On the twins’ first year birthday, Pollyanna threw her first party as Mrs. Gazis. She went all out in the preparation, taking craft courses available on the island, reading up on party styling and spending countless hours on Pinterest and Instagram for party pegs. Since this was her first official outing as wife to Kyrillos Gazis, Pollyanna was determined to live up to everyone’s expectations. But more than that, she didn’t want to give her husband any reason to feel ashamed of her.

She had two months to prepare, and every day she worked tirelessly, using every spare moment she could when the twins were sleeping or playing. Kyr would often ask her if she needed help, but she always turned him down, telling him firmly it was a secret, and she wanted him as surprised as all the guests were. The only person she coordinated with was his secretary, who took care of issuing payments. This, too, Kyr had offered to change, saying, “You’re my wife. Naturally, everything I have is yours, too.”

But she had shaken her head, saying, “I know I only have to ask, and you’ll give it to me.” The truth was, she wanted the staff and everyone to know that she wasn’t and would never be after Kyr’s money.

When the day of the party came, the guests were driven to the venue in golf carts, and on the way they were treated to a visual spectacle. The locals had helped Pollyanna with this, using island-sourced materials to put up colorful DIY signage and posters that shared trivia about the twins. Every piece was unique, beautiful, and Instagram-worthy, so much so that even after the party, Pollyanna had been told that her world-famous guests had asked their drivers to make regular stops so they could have their photos taken next to it.

As for the venue, Pollyanna had decided to take a risk by opting for the outdoors even though she knew that, with summer fast approaching, the weather might be too hot and humid for her guests.
 

But more than that, she wanted everyone to see how much her husband had worked to make Teleios beautiful, and how could she do that if they were cooped up inside an air-conditioned function room?

And so as a compromise, she used the Floros’ flower farm as the venue, and on the day of the party, it turned out to be the perfect choice. The weather cooperated, granting them blue skies, gentle sunlight, and a cool breeze that teased the guests with the scent of the sea and made the colorful blooms dance to their tune.

Because they were on top of the hill, the guests were also treated with a breathtaking bird’s eye view of the island. Taking this a step further, she had created pamphlets made from recycled paper and hired local calligraphy artists to pen the content. For each island attraction, one half of the page would be devoted to photos of Dio and Ella at the said place while the other half of the page featured handwritten descriptions of the attraction.

Everything in the party, from the décor to the food and souvenirs, was locally sourced, and so was the staff.

It was an overwhelmingly successful event overall, and even when they had made it back to their bedroom, with the twins fast asleep and looked after by their nanny, Kyr could see that his young wife was still basking in the aftermath of their guests’ pleasure.

Drawing her to him, he looked down at her with a warm smile. “Congratulations, Mrs. Gazis.” His lips curved as she blushed and beamed up at him at the same time. “You did very well.”

She bit her lip and then, as if unable to help it, she blurted out giddily, “I did, didn’t I?”

He nodded.

“And did you see the look on their faces when I answered everyone in fluent Greek?”

“You absolutely fooled them all,” he said wryly. “Not one of them would have thought that I had to practically drag you kicking and screaming to your classes.” It had been one of his more startling discoveries of her, actually. He had pegged her as the ideal student, but as it turned out, Pollyanna was only happy to attend classes that had to do with arts and crafts. Anything else – like her Greek lessons – and Pollyanna had proven to be very creative in making up excuses to escape them.

“I wasn’t that bad,” Pollyanna was arguing.

“Oh, you were,” he countered, recalling the times she had tried to pretend she was so heavily asleep she couldn’t be roused for her morning lessons. “I’m frankly amazed that you managed to finish high school the way you are.”

“You’re exaggerating,” she said primly, “and that’s that.” But the mention of school had stirred an idea inside her, one that had been dormant for a few years but now was beginning to have appeal again.
 

If there was something she had learned about herself while organizing the twins’ party, then it was not that she could actually feel at ease while talking to people who had been rich and famous all their lives, people who were so much more beautiful and accomplished she was.

Rather, it was how
happy
she was at making people happy. In hindsight, she realized that her original choice of major in university had been brought about by peer pressure. Everyone in her old high school had chosen something “serious” to study, and so had Pollyanna. But now, she realized what she really wanted to do – what she might even be
destined
to do.

She thought about helping other people organize celebrations, small or big, to bring smiles to their loved ones’ faces, and she couldn’t help smiling.

Beside her in the bed, Kyr noticed the smile playing on his wife’s lips and asked, “What are you smiling about?”

She hesitated then said, “If I tell you I want to study…”

Kyr could feel his insides freezing at the words, and the worst sense of
déjà vu
hit him, causing cold sweat to envelope his body. In an instant, he realized that his perfect little world wasn’t as secure as he had once thought.

“You’re seriously asking that?” he asked evenly.

She gave him a small nod.

Turning on his side to face her, he said, “I’d seriously ask you to wait.”

Her eyes widened. “F-for what?” She couldn’t help thinking that this was exactly the same thing that had happened in the past, when they found out about her pregnancy and he had asked her to wait.
It was almost like he didn’t want her to follow any of her dreams,
she thought, but Pollyanna squashed the thought as soon as it occurred.

Kyr loved her,
she told herself fiercely. He wouldn’t have any reason not to support her.

“I want to continue building the business—”

“But you’re already rich,” she couldn’t help pointing out, bemused. “You’re richer than 99% of the human population.”

“It’s not enough,” he said flatly. “I was almost impoverished once, and I wouldn’t want that for our children.” He paused. “I just need a few more years, to be sure that their futures are secured.” His gaze held hers. “Would you give me that?”

And of course, when Kyr put it like that, what else was there to say but
yes
?

Chapter Five

The years that followed were too happy, with every day offering an experience or adventure to treasure, that it was impossible for Pollyanna’s sadness to linger. As was typical of naturally optimistic people, Pollyanna was easily able to put her dreams in the back burner and concentrate on the present, which was, in a way, another dream of hers, too.

The twins were more than a handful, and Pollyanna threw all her youthful energies into taking care of them. The combination of her innate gentleness and Kyr’s tough disciplining ensured that their children were a lot more well behaved than most other offspring of rich couples.
 

In fact, wherever they went, friends and acquaintances both would express their amazement at how
nice
their children were, as if expecting the Gazis twins to either spit on their faces or make impossible demands like spoiled little monsters.

Each time, Kyr would say, “All credit is due to my wife,” and in such a matter-of-fact tone that it never failed to make Pollyanna flush with embarrassed pleasure. It was one of her favorite things about her husband, the way he was never shy at expressing his pride in every little thing she did as his wife or as a mother.

Once, he had asked her why she was working out often recently, and when she had told him truthfully it was so she could build up her strength and be able to carry the twins at the same time, he had looked at her like she had revealed the answer to all the universe’s greatest questions.

Do you really love them that much,
he had asked, his gaze brooding.

Of course I do,
she had answered him, astonished that he would even ask. She had hesitated then asked fearfully,
Don’t you?

I do…but I didn’t expect you to feel the same.
His lips had twisted in apology.
And I’m sorry for that.

And that was when she had learned about the callous and negligent way his parents had raised him. Even without Kyr going into the specifics, she hadn’t any problems reading between the lines and realizing how having too much money had ruined Kyr’s parents.

His story had been so painful to hear that when he was done, she had thrown herself at him, hugging her husband tightly as she had promised him tearfully, “
You and the kids will always be the first with me.”

On their third wedding anniversary, he had taken her and the twins to Dubai. Although Kyr would leave the island a few times each year for business, he had never invited her, and she had never asked him to take her, thinking that it was because he thought the kids too young to travel.

The idea of foreign travel had so excited her she was barely able to sleep, and when their trip finally started with an hour-long ride to the island’s only airport, everything about it had been magical.
 

For Kyr, the trip had been an eye-opener, too. While waiting for their private jet to be fueled, he had taken his family to the VIP lounge and it was there, while Pollyanna had made sure the kids were settled in their high chairs, that they were able to overhear the conversation of a group of socialites seated at a nearby table.

And they had all been talking about his wife.

“Oh, look, she’s finally making it out of the island.”
Barely muffled titters followed the observation, and Kyr’s hand clenched and unclenched on the table. He knew that the woman was referring to the numerous tabloids that had slyly speculated on the reason why Mrs. Gazis was never seen outside Greece.
 

And most of them had thought it was because he was ashamed of her,
Kyr thought grimly. He hadn’t been, of course, and he would never be, but did his young wife know this?

But soon, his attention was called away by the twins, who were asking him about where they were going.
 

When he told them it was Dubai, Dio asked, “Where is it, Papa?”

“You know Dubai, Mama?” Ella asked.

And when Pollyanna had answered cheerfully, “Nope,” the socialites from the other tables had laughed and rolled their eyes.

“Of course she wouldn’t know Dubai,” one of them murmured snidely. “She was nothing before the marriage, and without the Gazis billions, the only chance she’d have make it to Dubai is as one of those pathetic contract workers.”

Fuck you.
Kyr straightened in his seat, about to confront the women, but his wife’s gentle touch on his hand stopped him. She shook her head and looked at the twins meaningfully.

Pollyanna expected her husband to argue, but instead he took a deep breath, his lips curving in a charming smile. “Wish granted,
psaraki.
” It was so surprising, she couldn’t help gazing at him suspiciously. But her husband was no longer looking at her, busy typing a message on his phone.

Ten minutes later and the pilot came inside the lounge, telling them that the private jet had been refueled. “It’s a good thing you have your own jet, Mrs. Gazis.” The pilot’s unnaturally loud voice made Pollyanna’s eyes widen. “Most commercial flights to Dubai from here require several stops but ours will be a direct flight, so we’ll be reaching our destination sooner than most.”