Tempting The Billionaire Book1✔(Slowly Revising)

chapter 25-- revised

Hello loves,

Dedicated to all of my wonderful male supporters. Love you!

Britondii Luca pov

Even as the frigid night air lashed against my skin in bitter, striking waves and the tears that washed my face were no longer of a liquid state but had become dried, powdered ice; I had not apostatized, deserted the parking lot for the solace of my soft, warm bed.

How could I when the thoughts of Sebastian Monteiro had left me stationary; paralyzed?

In a sole night the man I loved had vituperated me. Emotionally. Bodily. Mentally. Just the same, I could not bring my self to even negligibly, loathe him, forget him. My head had beseeched, pleaded for my heart to hearken, "forget about that man, child"it vociferated it's guidance however as were customary it declined to listen.

"There is a million reasons why I should give you up, but the hearts wants what it wants."

Oh shut it you foolish girl. Fuck is you saying?

At a leisurely pace, sluggishly I cruised the palms of my hands along my arm lengths aspiring to bring warmth onto my skin, using my teeth to pull my lower lip as another tear drop slipped from my eye.

Tentatively, I allowed my fingers softly to encounter a bruise and shook my head, shuddering at the painful contact, I questioned my self. What was it that I had done wrong? To that my subconscious unceremoniously riposted, you allowed yourself to fall in love with a satanic demon as a matter of fact that man is the damn devil himself.

I whimpered. Sadly.

Was Sebastian not worth my tears-- my heart break? He must have been, right? If he were not, why were I crying a river and my heart still breaking? If he were not worth my love, then why did I not detest him but my feelings had opposed that?

As I were erected before the door to our apartment my forehead pressed against the hard wood, I allowed the lids of my eyes to lower as the thoughts into my head commenced a crusade.

How could I disremember Sebastian Monteiro? To dissimulate he ever subsisted? Or to pretend I were ever attached to him.

Should I start a courtship with another man-- Travane?

Perhaps I could commit suicide. But I was not yet ready to die-- not really.

What if I ran away? To abscond from all the events of tonight appeared to be the most entrancing of options. Perhaps I should do that--decamp and start over life-- leaving memories of Mr. Monteiro behind me. After I were settled, I would then contact my friends and let them know I was well then they could visit me and such. Yes!  I perceived with factitious galvanization, excitement. That were the best thing to do.

I knew my friends would comprehend when I had elucidated my reasons for such an unanticipated departure from their lives.

I emitted another fatigued exhalation. But what about the press meeting And the charity event? Unforseenly, enviousness over powered me when I envisaged he would be accompanied by a resplendent, beauteous model to the ball.

My subconscious controverted. "Oh shut it you fucking, incorrigible fool. The damn man just knocked you into the next decade and you are here fuming because of with whom he will attend a God damn occasion."

I slipped my key into the lock and revolved it and as placidly as were achievable pivotted the door knob-- not desiderating to rouse Lucas who was such a weightless dozer--the slightest of sounds could have awaken him and then I pushed the door open slowly, not allowing it permission to encounter the wall, finessing the vociferous 'bang'!

Whilst I had unobstructed the barricade and had penetrated the insides, strong muscular arms soon enclasped me as though they had been anticipating my arrival.

Oh Lucas.

"Oh Brii" the sheltering of his eyes latched in the utmost contentment, he released an alleviated sough.

When he unclogged his watery eyes and stared at my face, his green eyes widened. He rubbed them and stared again and in a thunderous blast emitted, "Oh Brii!  What the fuck happened to your face?"

I allowed the lids of my eyes to slowly descend and as the pace of my heart escalated to clangorous, aching throbs I wondered, Oh Lue, where do I even commence?

Sebastian Monteiro pov

I once more assayed to free my eyes from the refrainments of their ponderous lids that had for too long held them as captives but just as the millionth or so previous trials they bullheadedly repudiated to comply.

The tone of an aquainted, bottomless rumble prostrated, overwhelmed both ears. A congenial, comforting sound I would never, ever didremember if even I had heard it for a mere moment after a thousand years. The voice were that of my father's.

"Dad" I stammered and though my eyes remained unopened, drops of eyewater became a curtain down my face.

Although he had uttered nothing in answer, for the snippet of a micro second, my father's sculpted face, his hair lined with striking silver and his moustache expertly groomed as it were when I rested my eyes on him for the final time appeared before me and then it were gone.

Wait!  I conceived -- the thought calm without a sole morsel of urgency. My father had passed years agone. Were I dead too?