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Her Billionaire Beast (Her Billionaire CEO, #7) Page 15
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“Yes, sir. If she refuses? Would you like me to restrain her, sir?”
“Of course not.”
“Good,” came Max’s relieved response.
Alejandro made his way into his room and slumped into a chair, suddenly weary.
The evening’s adventures had taken their toll on him. He’d had too much sensory overload. And now, he had this worry over Isa.
He yearned to talk to her, to convince her that he truly loved her. That he merely wanted to be able to provide for her. Why was that so evil?
Maybe tomorrow, she would be more receptive to him. He certainly hoped so.
An hour later, he woke up. He’d fallen asleep sitting up. He might as well get ready for the night.
Remembering his prescription eye drops, he put them in his eyes. Two in each eye, to soothe them at the end of a long day. Trying to make out shapes always exhausted him.
A burning sensation came on suddenly. His eyes were on fire. What in heaven’s name—
This had never happened with the drops before. He raised his hands to his eyes to ease the flames, to no avail. Staggering to the bathroom, he knocked a lamp over, shattering the base in a thousand pieces. He kept going, until he reached for the water in the sink. As fast as he could, he splashed cold water into his open eyeballs. Still, his eyes continued to burn.
He was vaguely aware of Horatio entering his room and saying, “Master? I heard a crash...Master!”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Isa had the Uber driver stop at the gate and wait to be let out. She would have opened her window to Max and talked to him, but she was crying too much to be decent. But Max knocked on her window, so she opened it.
“Are you okay, ma’am?” Max asked, concerned.
“Y-yes,” she sobbed. “Thanks for everything.”
“Are you leaving us?”
“For good this time.”
“That couldn’t be good, ma’am. I’m sorry. Can you please wait a minute though?”
“W-why?”
“Just need to talk to someone really quick to make sure everything is clear.”
He wasn’t making sense, but she just nodded, too heartbroken to argue. It seemed he was gone for a long time. The Uber driver tapped on his steering wheel several times, but thankfully didn’t say anything.
Finally, Max returned. “I guess you’re clear, ma’am. I couldn’t get hold of the master.”
“Why would you try to do that?” she said, crying fresh tears for his betrayal.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you sad again. It’s just... well, go ahead. I don’t mean to hold you up further.”
“Tha-thank you.”
Isa slumped into the seat in relief, feeling like she wasn’t going to run out of tears for quite a while.
How could Alejandro be such a beast, when he seemed to have been the only person in the world to understand and accept her? After all they’d been through, and him, trusting her, only for him to scuttle that all away with his insensitive remarks.
She leaned her throbbing head against the car door and hugged herself. She had had high hopes, but look at her now, going back to her daddy with her tail between her legs.
At least she had the makings of a book. It could be volume one. People could still read it. It wouldn’t be quite as good as a definitive Alejandro Diaz volume, but it would still sell well. Whether it would sell enough to make a dent in the two-million dollar advance, she didn’t know.
Really, at this point, she didn’t care. She just wanted to lick her wounds and go back home.
At the airport, she freshened up her makeup before checking in her luggage and waiting. The sooner she could leave Spain, the better.
As the flight boarded, she looked at her phone to turn it off. She had missed a call. There was an unidentified number on there. No voicemail. But it was clearly from Sevilla, Spain.
Alejandro?
She squared her shoulders and ignored it.
Flipping through her contacts, she looked up her father’s number. It would be nine a.m. there.
“Mr. Drake?” she said, her voice trembling. “Dad? It’s Isa. I’m coming home.”
Chapter Forty
Four weeks later
Alejandro sat in the exam room, bandages around his eyes. Dr. Michael Monroe, his ophthalmologist, was talking to him in a calm voice that only served to aggravate him.
“We’ll take the pads off and then we’ll study the damage, okay?”
Alejandro nodded stiffly though he was grateful the American specialist came just for him. Alejandro had only wanted the best, and Dr. Monroe was the world’s leading eye doctor.
Dr. Monroe unwrapped the bandages until the last turn fell away.
“Okay, you can open your eyes now.”
Alejandro’s fist clenched as he opened them. Whereas before, he couldn’t see much more than shapes, he couldn’t see anything at all. The world was complete blackness.
“I can’t see!” he said in an anguished voice.
“I know. We expected that. But I am hoping that the symptoms will get better—”
Alejandro swore. “You’re supposed to heal me, doctor!”
“The acid had caused too much damage by the time you were brought to the hospital.”
“We got here as fast as we could.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“Dr. Monroe,” Alejandro begged, “is there nothing you can do for me?”
“I’m sorry, but no.”
Alejandro trembled with anger. This was Alicia’s doing. The police were on the hunt for her for putting acid in his eye drops, but what good did that do him? Her prosecution and imprisonment could never get his eyesight back. What little there was of it.
Alejandro got up and raged like a bull. And then he collapsed on the floor, sobbing.
Dr. Monroe said, gently, “Is there anyone—from the family or otherwise—that you wish to have here with you?”
Alejandro thought of Isa, who was back in the States. He’d heard that she did come out with an announcement about Alejandro Diaz’s memoir. The first volume.
He was happy for her, she got what she wanted. No need to bother her when she was in a good place.
“No,” Alejandro said, his voice hoarse to his ears. “I just need my assistant, Horatio.”
“Who I believe is here,” Dr. Monroe said, warmly. “Hola, Horatio.”
“Hola, Doctor Monroe. Sir.”
“Any news?” Alejandro asked.
“Yes. The Inspector said that they were able to stop Alicia at the border, just as she was trying to get into France. Would you like to go ahead with the personal lawsuit, sir?”
“Definitely.” Alejandro said.
She would get nailed for putting acid in his eye drops, the security video had captured her doing so, but it wasn’t going to bring back his eyesight.
“I could tell Miss Isabella about your—”
“No.” He said in a hurry. “Please don’t. I...I can’t bear for her to see me like this.”
“Like what?” Dr. Monroe said easily.
“Like a monster.”
“You make this lady-friend of yours sound...shallow.”
“At least I had eyes before. I know I’m scarred, doctor.”
The monitoring equipment blipped louder as he got more agitated.
“It’s all right,” Dr. Monroe said. “Just relax, Alejandro.”
Alejandro swung his arm and hit Dr. Monroe.
“Stop, please,” the doctor said, pinning his arms back. Horatio joined in the fray, holding him down too, the traitor.
Dr. Monroe’s calm but firm words broke through Alejandro’s senses. He slumped back on the bed.
“I’m sorry. Sorry,” Alejandro’s voice slurred as though he were drunk. He was worse than a drunk. Alone and against the world.
“It’s okay,” Dr. Monroe said. “I can understand your frustration.”
“Do you, doctor? Do you, really?”
&nb
sp; “Yes.”
Alejandro swallowed. “Thank you. Thank you for coming to my aid when I was first admitted. I wanted the best, and you returned. I know you have family back in the States who are probably missing you right now.”
“No worries, no one is waiting for me back home. Me being a bachelor and all.” Dr. Monroe patted him on the shoulder. “Hang in there.”
Alejandro sat there for a long time, trying to make sense of his life. At one point, he had almost felt relieved that he could no longer see.
Gone was that obsessive-compulsiveness to create at all hours of the night. Not eating. Not sleeping. Always trying to finish his work. Even after he swore off his father, he hadn’t changed his ways.
Some habits were too ingrained in him.
There was a footfall at the door. Alejandro tensed. Horatio would have been outside. It wasn’t Horatio, he could tell. It was a heavier gait.
“Hola, m’ijo.”
Alejandro’s chest tightened. “Papá?”
“Sí.”
“Who asked you to come?”
“Horatio did. Don’t be mad at him. He simply told me. I came on my own volition.”
“I’m firing him.”
“Don’t. I’ll leave before you do that.”
“You can leave and I’ll fire him anyway.”
“I think it’s high time you let go of your bitterness, son.”
Alejandro took a deep breath. “Easy for you to say, Papá. You didn’t have to endure all those years of seesaw love. At least Mamá cared for me.”
“You’re wrong, you know,” Papá said. His voice shook. “I did push you. I’m sorry for that. But I did love you. I do.”
“I cannot believe that. You only loved me as long as I produced my paintings.”
“Not true. I’ve been following you over the years. Since you moved out. I cannot be prouder.”
“Of course you would be. Did you brag about me to your friends? Did you take credit for creating me?”
“No.” Papá sounded bewildered. “I... I did get dazzled by all that money, and I did you wrong, son. But there’s not a day that hasn’t gone by that I don’t regret my actions. I had hoped that in your time of need—”
“In my time of need?” Alejandro growled. “I’ve been in need before and you never came to my aid. Not when I became blind the first time. Did you come just to look upon your monster child? To give yourself the satisfaction that I was deformed and not worth loving?”
“Of course not. I didn’t hear about that first time until it was a few weeks in, and it seemed rather foolish to reach out then. Your mother kept me focused when she was around. It seems I go around lost without her.”
Alejandro slumped against his pillow. “Me and you both.”
“At least we have that in common.”
Alejandro turned his head. “I’m done with this discussion.”
“Please, can you at least think of what I’ve said?”
“I am promising nothing.”
The world fell silent after his father left. Alejandro felt so alone in his dark, dark abyss. What was the point of living? He’d driven everyone out of his life. He had threatened to get rid of Horatio, but he decided he would keep him around. Make him work for his wages.
He could cry. Instead, he sat there like a statue, unwilling to feel.
Chapter Forty-One
Isa sat in the board room, trying to focus on what her father was saying. It was a small crowd today, just the smaller imprint publishers reporting to him.
It was a beautiful summer day outside, middle of June. The last few months had been a whirlwind. She had brought Alejandro’s book into fruition and her father had been so proud of her.
But why did she still feel empty inside?
Alejandro. She hoped he was happy with his lot in life. Because she certainly was. She didn’t need a man to define her. She had her publishing career on the up and up.
What a lie.
She missed him, but she would never admit it to anyone.
Isa looked around at the other editors. Elvira had made it to their inner circle, and Isa actually no longer cared. She was happy for her, in a bit of an annoyed way because the woman didn’t even thank her for the big break. But she was at least at peace with her. She no longer went around thinking she would need to get in a pit to mud wrestle with her. If Elvira went on to make it big in publishing, or even take over her father’s empire, more power to her.
“And that’s it, folks,” Mr. Drake said. “Thank you all for your time.” He turned to Isa. “I need to show you something.”
“Yes?”
“Did you see this news?” He threw down a newspaper on the table and stared at it.
The headline read, “A stolen masterpiece by Alejandro Diaz recovered.”
Isa stayed sitting as she scanned the piece. But she couldn’t read the writing because her eyes swam with tears. The painting itself was raw and unbelievably beautiful.
It was a painting of her. Isabella Drake.
It was an uncanny likeness. Nothing she would have expected from their time together.
She scanned the story again, this time picking up that the painting had been stolen about the time of his acid attack—
What? What acid attack?
His ex-fiancée had put acid in his eye drops and had also stolen the painting from his bedroom.
The night Isa had left.
Isa closed her eyes and groaned. She had been so wrapped up in her own concerns, she didn’t even respond to any of the attempts to contact her. It might have been Horatio, trying to tell her of what happened. It could have been Alejandro.
At the end of the article, there was a blurb about his gallery showing in Sevilla. Alejandro had produced a few more pieces and was going to attend a show in his honor.
“Mr. Drake,” she said, standing and feeling faint. “I need to go to Spain.”
“What?” he said.
Isa looked at him then, really looked. He was an old man, with few years left. Maybe he had hoped to pass the torch on to her. But she was no longer as hungry as she used to. At least not for something like this publishing job.
She understood now, suddenly, that there was more to life than her career. And even if she did pursue this, it could look like something else, and perhaps she could even be happy.
“Let me explain to you, from the beginning...” she said.
Chapter Forty-Two
Alejandro accepted the applause and tried to not flinch. He had gone to the podium with Horatio’s help, even though he had been prepared to move around with his cane. It was getting a little better, his transition to not having any sight at all. There were still hard days, when he wanted to just yell at everything and everyone. The staff knew to get away from him then, and to give him space.
Was he ever going to be rid of his beastly reputation?
Horatio led him off the stage. “There are three steps, Master,” his loyal butler said.
“Thank you, Horatio,” he said.
“Of course. I believe there is a young lady here to see you, Master.”
“Oh?” Alejandro cocked his head, curious. Horatio seemed to have moved away. Highly unusual.
“Hola, Alejandro.” That was Isa’s voice, and it wasn’t a phone call or video of her.
Alejandro felt weak at the knees. Of all the voices he’d heard today, he hadn’t expected hers. He reached up to hide his face, to deflect her view of his scarred eyes, only to remember that he was wearing designer sunglasses.
Relief filled his frame.
“Hola,” he said.
“Congratulations. This is fantastic.” Her voice was warm. And loving.
She was really here. Could there be some hope...?
“Thank you,” he said. “You came a long way to attend an art show.”
“I had to see my portrait.”
That portrait. His heart pounded. He couldn’t even really remember how he had portrayed her, just that he had, and he h
ad done it then out of love. And what about the others? Had she seen them too?
As though she read his mind, she said, “And I saw the others too.”
“You did?”
“The one of the couple on horses, and the dinner under starlight, and even the bikers fighting with the couple. I saw it all.”
“It was a cleansing exercise.”
“The woman is very beautiful,” she said in a teasing tone.
“You can tell that in the detail?”
“I am kidding. I don’t think that highly of myself.”
“You are beautiful,” he blurted out, to his embarrassment. He shouldn’t be flirting. They no longer were...together.
“Thank you.” She paused. “You should have let me know, Alejandro. About your eyes.”
“What, so that you could pity me?”
“So I could be there for you during your moment of darkness.”
Silence stretched between them. Could he really allow her to sacrifice her future for a disfigured beast like him?
“It doesn’t matter now,” he said. “The moment has passed. I’m sure you are busy. With your career, that is.”
When she didn’t answer right away, she confirmed his suspicions.
But then she said, “I’ve left my father’s publishing company.”
His head reeled. What did that mean? “Why?”
“Because I realized that it wasn’t making me happy.”
“But you said...”
“Yes, everything I told you was true. I had everything but not the man I loved.”
Alejandro rubbed his jaw, trying to not hope too much. “You said...” he murmured low.
“I love you, Alejandro. I haven’t stopped loving you.”
“You can’t,” he growled. “I forbid it.”
There was a stunned silence, then she laughed. A melodious sound that lightened his heart, even as he protested it.
“You forbid me to love you?” she teased.
“Yes,” he ground out through his teeth.
“I think that’s for me to decide.” She walked close to him. He could hear her steps come closer. He could smell her sweet perfume, and his chest tightened with longing. He had missed her.