Read The Billionaire's Wife (A Steamy BWWM Marriage of Convenience Romance Novel) Online
Authors: Mia Caldwell
“We’ve spent time
together in the past two months,” he lied to them. “At first, I was quietly
angry, expecting to find a self-serving snake who dared to infiltrate my agency
and make a fool of me…but that’s not the Kiona I came to understand. She is one
of the most compassionate, loving souls I have ever met – someone who’s always
looking out for others. By total accident, she showed me that she cares for all
of you as much as I do. I can see from the shocked faces in this room that
you’d come to appreciate her. It shouldn’t come as a surprise, then, that I’ve
grown to admire her as well. I admire this woman, I respect her…and I’ve grown
to love her.”
At first I
was wondering where any of that was coming from –
Compassionate? Loving?
– but then it all suddenly dawned on
me, in a burning blaze of anger.
Wait…no. You can’t be serious. This is the
goddamned moment you’re going to make our little ruse public? You’re going to
embarrass me in front of the senior staff, fire me, and now… What are
you– God damnit...
“Kiona
– Key, my dear,” Cole Andrews turned to me, reaching into his pocket and
dropping to one knee in front of me, “Will you do me the honor of being my
wife?”
Part Two
Cole
One Week
Later
It wasn’t customary for billionaire
business partners to sit alone in the waiting room of a powerful corporation,
so I elected to stand instead.
At least
it’s presentable
, I thought to myself, admiring the various customary
Japanese portraits and the stellar view of the city.
The flight to
Tokyo was always a long one. Fortunately, I didn’t have to make the trip too
often – and it was usually under fairly warm circumstances.
I was
somewhat lacking in confidence this time.
My cold gaze
flicked over to the receptionist, a calm and collected Japanese woman of considerable
stoicism. She looked up from her screen, meeting my gaze with an apathetic
glance, then returned to her work.
Straightening
my posture, I slid my hands into the pockets of my suit slacks. It had already
been twenty minutes since my arrival had been announced, and I wondered what
the delay portended. It wasn’t like my host to put on such a display of
irritation.
I didn’t like
it at all.
It’s not as
if I didn’t already have a lot to think about. The last week had been quite the
upset. While I expected some aftermath and a few hitches here and there, in my
apathy and force of will I had failed to understand the weight of a few
deceptively important details within my agency. The fallout, resultantly, had
been relatively catastrophic.
And instead
of running damage control, I was here – halfway across the world, held
captive by the passive-aggression of a powerful man – a man who
controlled my future, and that of all my employees.
Out of the
corner of my eye, the receptionist finally moved. Pressing her hand to her
earpiece for a moment, she listened intently to an instruction, nodding once
quickly. Quietly whispering something back into the earpiece, she then turned
her attention to me.
“He will see
you now.”
*
*
*
Alphonse
Robinson Megami greeted me at the door of his magnificent office. He welcomed
me inside, and I took the opportunity to admire his office once more. It was a
strange place to find an elderly black man like Alphonse, but he had always
been a little
different
.
Megami’s
private office was a long, spacious display of contemporary power. Along the
left wall stretched a series of traditional Japanese tapestries, pottery, and
decorum, lining recessed shelving and cubicles. Breaking the flow were
occasional bookcases, displaying additional pieces of exquisite art and
references to the great history of Japan. The right wall, on the other hand,
was a series of large, wide floor-to-ceiling panels of glass, separated by
strips of wall only as broad as my shoulders. It cast an interesting array of
shadows over the room as I graciously followed the man to his sweeping
executive desk at the far end.
Before
sitting, we customarily bowed our heads and shoulders to one another, and then
took our chairs in opposition.
“Welcome to
Toyko, Mister Andrews,” Alphonse told me. “How was your flight?”
“Enlightening,”
I told him, stroking his ego somewhat. “I took the time to reflect on some things.”
“Did you find
your meditations to be informative?” He asked politely.
“To an
extent, yes.”
Alphonse,
I’ve mentioned before, is a traditional man. This is true in some ways.
However, there’s a certain something to be said about a powerful, rich
businessman who overcame racial inequality first-hand. Since the civil rights
days, he’d become a Shinto religious convert, spending the next four decades in
Japan and embracing its culture and history. His success transcended race or
country or creed.
I admired
him, I’ll admit.
For one, he
was one of the sincerest men I’d ever met – his religion filled him with
reverence for all things living and inanimate, and reinforced improving the
current world over preparing for the afterlife. To that extent, he routinely
made large donations and invested heavily in the education and wellbeing of
Japanese youth.
Additionally,
he had evolved as a person. In his younger days he had been a cutthroat
businessman, working his way up the corporate ladder and finally setting out on
his own – eventually heading a powerful conglomerate corporation. The
Megami Corporation had its tendrils in everything from home appliances to oil
interests and mobile phones, and its handful of divisions were headed by
powerful, savvy, somewhat unpredictable individual presidents. Each of them, in
turn, answered to this single man. To reduce the stress of responsibility, Mr.
Megami began dividing the company into these sectors, embracing a calmer, more
collected reputation as a deeply reverent and compassionate human being who
just
happened
to rule one of the
largest entities in Japan.
The
Fingers of Megami
, his rivals called the
presidential structure of his subsidiaries. Each one digging into a different
pie with various reputations, but each one a highly competent businessman with
incredible power. Soon, my company and all the secrets within would help
catapult Megami Corp from a Japanese powerhouse to a global phenomenon. I had
similar goals once, back before life decided to throw me the ultimate
curve-ball. Now, I just wanted to take a walk in the park, happy in the
knowledge that I’d created some small mark on the world.
All that was
left to do was convince this man to take the reigns.
“I am
somewhat disappointed,” Alphonse spoke, his face the image of inner peace and
reflection, “I had expected to meet this darling wife of yours – Kiona,
was it?”
“Kiona,” I
confirmed. “I am afraid that she could not make the flight. There have been
some problems at home, small matters that I’ve had to attend to.”
“Yes, I am
aware,” he told me.
“Nothing of
any concern.”
“Enough
concern to forestall our meeting.”
“No, I was
here on time,” I chided.
“I meant with
you
and
your young bride.”
“Right,” I
realized, shaking my head. “I’m sorry, Alphonse – jet lag. You know how
it is.”
“Tell me,
Mister Andrews, why are you here?”
“Please, call
me Cole,” I smiled, although his face remained as nonchalant as ever. “I simply
wished to confirm that things were still on schedule.” My answer was spoken
confidently – peaceful or not, this was not a man to whom you showed
weakness.
“You could
have picked up the phone. Saved yourself a long and tiring flight.”
“I like to
have important conversations in person. It is my reputation, after all, and one
that I stand to always uphold.”
“This conversation
does not appear important to me.”
“I…don’t
follow.”
“You are
aware of the arrangement, Mister Andrews,” he began gravely. “Everything is in
order to continue the process, the singular snag being that I require you to
have taken a wife. An unspoken piece of this, perhaps, is that I
meet
said wife. Personally, I must see
for my own eyes that you legitimately love this woman.”
“I can assure
you that I love Kiona.”
“And yet,
where is she?”
“Home,” I
answered tersely.
“
Home
in your context, Mister Andrews, is
a little too far for my particular tastes…perhaps we can continue this
conversation another time, when you have begun to take me a little more
seriously.”
“Alphonse,
you know that I’m limited on that.”
“Limited on
time? Yes, Mister Andrews, I am well aware…and deeply, regretfully sorry. But
you understand that I am bound by what I believe to be right. Tradition
dictates. I am, what you might consider
old
school
.”
I resisted
the urge to wince at the painful use of that term.
“This was my
one chance, Alphonse. I’ve been instructed that this is my last international
flight.”
His face was
apathetic now.
“Then you
have failed your one chance.”
I sighed,
glancing out the windowpanes. Tokyo was so beautiful from this height. The
skyline sprawled out in the distance, with its staggering skyscrapers and
architectural marvels.
“Will you
consider coming to the States?” I asked, allowing a sliver of desperation to
enter my voice. “To my knowledge, you’ve never visited New York…I can entertain
you there, and you can meet the two of us in our home.”
Megami leaned
backwards in his chair, considering this. “You would go to this extent to win
my favor?”
“This means
the world to me,” I answered him truthfully. “And as much as I hate to be
insistent of this, it has to be confirmed soon.”
“Mister
Andrews, these negotiations between us can continue independently of you, as I
am sure you are aware.”
I smiled
slyly at the old man. “No, they can’t. You’d never work directly with any of
them, and we both know it.”
He returned
my grin. “No, I wouldn’t.”
We sat in
silence and studied the skyline together as he collected his thoughts. Never a
praying man, I focused every last positive thought into this moment, silently
pleading that he would bend with me on this one.
“…Very well
then. When should I appear in the States?”
I exhaled my
relief. “Can you be there in two weeks?”
“How long?”
“Long enough.
A day, unless you wished to stay longer.”
Alphonse held
up a finger and pressed a button on an intercom on the desk, speaking fluent
Japanese to the receptionist. Of course, my business operations had forced me
to gain a somewhat solid grasp of Japanese and Mandarin Chinese, so it was
clear to me what they were saying:
“Tell me my
schedule for early next month.”
There was a
pause from the receptionist.
“You are
busy. Wait. You do not have anything for the first Wednesday and Thursday…”
“Excellent,
thank you.”
“Thank you,
sir.”
Alphonse
switched back to English, but I smiled and interrupted before he could get a
word in.
“Fly in that
Wednesday, and leave that Thursday. I will make the arrangements to welcome you
properly.”
He smiled
peacefully. “Ah, yes, of course. Forgive me.”
“Nothing to
forgive,” I graciously shook my head.
We rose from
our chairs, bowing to each other again.
“Then it is
settled?” I asked. “You will meet Kiona, and we’ll all share some time
together. If you like what you see, do I have your word that the buyout will
proceed?”
I knew, as
reverent as Alphonse Megami was, that his word was essentially as good as a
private signature between us.
Before he
could answer, I bent my head away, covering my face with a pocket square as I
fell under a small coughing fit. After a few moments, I cleared my head,
shaking it lightly, and turned back to face my host with an apologetic gaze.
“You have my
word,” he agreed.
“Thank you,
Mr. Megami.”
I turned and
began to make my departure. It was a long flight back to the States, and
ultimately my trip had been a failure to begin with…but there was chance for a
rebound. I could work with this.
Well,
probably.