Page 60 of Contract of a Billionaire

“H-he doesn’t love me, Maman,” I croaked. It was stupid. I was a grown-ass woman and I cried like a baby. My chest hurt so fucking bad, I thought I’d die.

“He doesn’t deserve you.” Her voice was hard. Cold. I lifted my head off her chest and faced her. And for the first time I got a glimpse of the woman she was before she found my father. She cupped my cheeks and pressed a kiss on my nose. “He’s not good enough for you, ma petite.”

“I’m pregnant,” I whispered.

She didn’t seem surprised. “Want to talk about what happened?” I shook my head. “Bien. When you want to talk, you’ll tell us. For now, I’ll take care of my baby. And dad, you, and I will take care of your baby.”

I buried my face into her chest and my heart shattered. This raw ache in my chest was unbearable. Nausea rolled in my stomach. My heart clenched so hard, I was certain it would stop beating.

It wasn’t until now that the loss of him fully sank into my bones.

Alessio broke my heart, and I couldn’t find the strength to fuck him up.

Chapter21

Autumn

FOUR YEARS LATER

New York City.

The world through my lens. My own exhibition of photographs I’d taken for the past four years.

It was nerve-racking, exciting, surreal and totally exhilarating.

Years of snapshots - unforgettable moments, breathtaking corners of this Earth, children in war torn countries, families in starving countries, the world nobody wanted to talk about. A starving child offering his bread to another who had nothing. A human sharing his coat with a child. They were the moments that offered hope for our world.

Raw emotions were reflected on each photo. Or maybe it was just me because I remembered every single thing I felt when I snapped the photos.

Awed at the beauty of this planet. Sadness. Happiness. Awareness.

I was proud of every single photograph. That was how I saw the world. A reflection of my emotions.

Broken heart. Healing. Surviving.

Standing in the corner of the gallery, I leaned against the wall and watched people studying every piece. Soft whispers. Critical eyes. More examinations.

My eyes roamed over the large gallery. Never in a million years had I dreamt that I’d have my own exhibition in New York City. This was the closest I dared to venture. I had avoided Canada for the past four years. Even New York was too close to Montréal, but I couldn’t pass up this opportunity.

I knew there was still a lot to learn, but I was so fucking proud of what I’d accomplished. Nobody could take this away from me. I lived every single moment in these photographs.

“We are so proud of you.” Maman and Dad came beside me. My mother looked as beautiful as ever in her long red dress. Dad couldn’t seem to keep his eyes away from her long enough to study my photographs.

It made me smile. It made me happy. Even after all their years together, they loved each other. It gave me hope despite the ache that still lingered in my chest. Even after all these years.

“Thanks, Maman.” She pressed a kiss on my cheek. “And thank you for coming all the way to New York to watch Kol.”

My greatest treasure. My son.

“Of course,” Dad answered, his eyes twinkling. “It’s our job to care for our daughter and grandson.”

My family. I wouldn’t have survived without them.

“How do you feel about your exhibit?” Maman asked. “I think every photograph is magnificent. And to think you’ve been in some of those areas! Just the thought of it frightens me.”

My parents have been amazing over the last years. Whenever I had to go to remote locations or potentially dangerous ones, they’d meet me anywhere in the world, take Kol and care for him until I was back.

I hadn’t been back to Montréal once. Kol had yet to step foot in Canada. He had visited almost every continent but hadn’t stepped foot there. It was better to be safe than sorry. Especially considering the threat.