Back With The Billionaire's Heir

"Naomi, I'm leaving."

His bluntness astounds me and leaves me speechless. I stand before Denzel, my soon-to-be husband, in my wedding gown. I eye him up and down and my heart sinks.

"Why aren't you dressed?" My voice comes out sharper than I intend. I feel pathetic inside but it appears as if I'm angry at him.

"We've to postpone the wedding. I have an important business to tend to." Denzel's words come out in a hurry. It feels as if he just can't wait to leave.

"What is so important that you're postponing our wedding?" My tone keeps getting harsher.

There's a lengthy pause before any of us speaks.

"I've found her."

The tears involuntarily slither down my cheeks. The ache in my chest intensifies and her name clouds in front of my eyes. Layla.

I angrily stomp towards him. I put my hand on his shoulder and turn him sideways to bring us eye to eye. My face feels hot from anger but his only shows urgency-urgency to get away from me to get to her.

"Why? What does she mean to you that you're so eager to cast me away and run to her?" I burst out.

"She means something to me!"

Anger flashes in his electric blue eyes for once. It's probably the first time I've witnessed the great Denzel Flynn losing his cool, and it breaks my heart. My next question comes out in a hushed, broken voice.

"And I don't?"

Denzel doesn't say anything. He approaches me carefully and perches a kiss on my head.

"I promise I'll make everything right when I return." He doesn't wait for a response and jogs out of the room, leaving me to my destructive thoughts

I've been planning for this day since the first time we met. But, in spite of the many preparations and planning, this day still came to suck in the end.

It's been around a year since Layla disappeared but Denzel managed to find her. In the past, when people mentioned that he loved his ex more than me, I didn't mind. Of course, I'd never imagined that he'd choose the ex over me.

And for the first time in a whole year, I doubt if he'd ever loved me. Or was I just another distraction from the pain of losing his beloved ex?

My knees buckle but before I can fall, a pair of arms wrap around me. And I instantly give in to the warmth of my best friend.

"Shh...it's okay." Marcus coos me as if I'm an infant as I cry into his warmth. He's my closest confidant.

I begin to utter incognizable sentences into his chest. He calms me down. Marcus was outside the door all this time and heard everything Denzel had said.

"I wanted to punch that smug face of his so bad, I can finally do it now without getting you mad." I snort at his comment. Marcus and Denzel have visible tension between them, neither of them likes the other. They only try to act civil for my sake.

I'm distracted for solely a moment before I remember Denzel and what just happened.

"Marcus...it hurts. It hurts so bad. He never loved me." I whine through my cries. The pain is heartbreaking, nothing painful I've been through in my life can amount to this feeling of betrayal.

Marcus brushes my hair and speaks softly. "Will you stay here and wait for him?"

I blink, wiping my cheeks. I haven't thought of that. I don't know what I want anymore since the wedding has been postponed. There is no choice for me but to wait for him.

Denzel Flynn is the sort of man no one would willingly mess with in their right mind. He's the youngest billionaire in Vancouver, someone who destroys establishments as easily as toys and has ties with the underworld.

Marcus appears flushed and calculating wordlessly. And then, he begins out of nowhere.

"What if..." Marcus trods on with his words carefully as if the wrong choice of words can lead him to jail. "You have a choice now. Would you like to leave with me, Naomi?"

He gazes down at me hopefully and I stand there dumbstruck with terror.

Naomi West

******

"Naomi West? Please sign here." The postal delivery officer loans me his pen.

I'm still on a call, so I don't bother asking him questions. Even though I'm not expecting a parcel, I still take it. After all, it's too small to be a bomb.

I shut the door after the man and turn back around into my home. I flip over the parcel in curiosity to see who is the sender. To my utter confusion, there is no return address or the sender's name on it.

An anonymous parcel? Fine, not a bomb, but it definitely has something to do with drugs.

"Mommy! Mommy!" Ben's tantrum draws my focus from the phone call and the parcel.

I hurriedly place the parcel at a height where my little demon can't reach. I search the drawing room to catch him running towards me like a thief escaping cops.

Behind him, Marcus jogs into the hall with Ben's backpack and bottle. I understand at once why the little demon is running away from him.

Ben quickly hides behind my legs and holds onto them before I can utter anything.

"Mommy, I don't wanna go... I'm not feeling nice. My tummy hurts." Ben hugs my legs as he pleads with puppy eyes. He's so cute that I can't bear to scold him, but Myra, my editor, is on the line.

"Myra, can I call you back in a minute?" I bring my phone away and give my undivided attention to my five-year-old son.

It's as clear as a sunny day that he's feigning a stomach ache. Good thing I have just the right remedy for his pain.

Crouching down to his level, I take his arms. For a fraction of second, I gaze into his electric blue eyes and, like an instinct, an image of another man enters my head.

I shrug it off.

"It's fine. You don't have to go."

Ben's facial features smoothen without delay. A smile takes place upon his previous frown.

"How about some pizza and McDonald's for lunch?" I say next. Marcus knows where I'm going with this, so he doesn't interrupt me.

"Yay!" Ben squeals in joy.

"Oh, little demon..." I say, ruffling through his jet-black hair, and Ben looks confused by my empathetic tone.

"I wasn't talking about you. Your tummy hurts, remember? You're gonna have boiled broccoli and spinach juice with lots of peas."

I can almost see him holding himself back from retching. This boy has been fighting a war with broccoli and spinach ever since his diet involved solid food.

Ben stares up at me with teary eyes and trembling lips. I guess I'm being too harsh.

"Let me tell you what. If you behave like a good boy and go to school now, we'll have ice cream for dessert. Deal?" I hold out my hand for him to shake.

To my utter bafflement, he takes my hand and kisses my knuckles while playfully bowing. The little demon shies away straight after that and runs out the door. Marcus goes with him to drop him off at the kindergarten.

The memory of a man with electric blue eyes and jet-black hair knocks at the door of my mind. He used to kiss my knuckles to seal a deal as well.

Not wanting to dwell on the past, I take out my phone and dial Myra.

"Hey, yeah, it was just my son. Sorry for that."

"No problem, Naomi. I was just asking if you'd come to Vancouver for the book signing. It'd be great to interact with the readers. In addition, you can also sign that contract with the Skylight Novels I told you about."

Myra's offer is surely tempting. Signing a contract with Skylight Novels will help my career to grow massively, and they also have a publishing branch for physical books. Not to mention that I'd be able to slack off on the advertisement responsibilities. They are exhausting... but...

"I'm not so sure how I feel about that. I don't want to go back to that city."

"That's surprising. I thought you and Marcus were coming together, but I guess it's just him then."

I don't register her words for a minute.

"What do you mean? Marcus is coming to Vancouver?" I ask her, wishing silently that I'd misheard her the first time.

"I suppose he hasn't informed you yet. DreamBooks forwarded Marcus's application to us because we're recruiting at the moment. Skylight Novels offered him a job as an editor, but since he'll have to move here, he said he needed time to consider it."

My mouth hangs open in the air. Her words list in my head one after the other until I can make sense of them.

Out of all the rubbish that left his mouth in a day, how come he forgot to mention such an important fact?

The doorknob twists open, and my eyes snap to the liar standing by the door of my house. My glare zooms in on his face, trying to look past that perfect facade.

"Myra, I'll let you know my answer later." I hang up without waiting for her response.

The entire room feels stuffed, and the tension weighs down on us. My attention is on Marcus, and he is well aware of that.

"What?" He gives me that innocent I-don't-know-what-you're-thinking shrug, but I'm not falling for any of it.

"Twelve years of friendship, five years of almost living together and raising a kid, and you still hide things from me?"

My eyes widen from disbelief and a momentary flush appears on his cheeks from realization.

"I'm not asking to check your emails or social media or something, but you could've updated me on being offered a job by such a prestigious literary company."

Disappointment rings in my voice-its unshaken presence apparent, like the tick-tock of a clock in a silenced room.

"I didn't tell you because I don't plan on accepting." He speaks in a nonchalant tone. Heading straight for the kitchen, he takes out a drink from the fridge and gulps it in one go.

His nonchalant behaviour towards the offered job both troubles and stuns me. And I burst out.

"For years, you wanted to find a stable job and settle down. Now that the opportunity is finally knocking at your door, are you really that dumb to let it go?"

By this point, I'm trying my best to not pluck my hair out one by one from vexation.

"Well, I changed my mind."

"Why, might I ask?" My voice is fuming, but his next words match the intensity of my own.

"Because you wouldn't go and I don't want to leave you."

We stare at each other, eyes wide open and mouths agape from shock and pain at his confession. I know he means well, but his words are a kick to my gut. A sobering realization.

"I told you this many times, Ben and I are lucky to have you. We are. But that doesn't mean we'd hold you back for our sake. Your priority should be your career...not us."

It pains me to say these words after all the help and support Marcus has given me in the last five years, ever since the day we ran away together. He didn't leave me when we found out that I was pregnant with Ben a month after our escape.

He was there during the pregnancy hormones and delivery. He treats Ben like his own. Even though I've paid him back all the money I owed him, it's indeed difficult to pay back all the love and gratitude.

No amount of money can pay that kind of debt.

However, if leaving us can help his future, then I'm more than ready to let him go.

"Don't be ridiculous. You're not getting rid of me," Marcus declares in a tone that leaves no further place for discussion.

I think about it. Marcus has already sacrificed a lot for us. I can't let him give up on a bright future too, just for our sake.

"What if...I go with you as well?" I inquire slowly, searching his face for disapproval.

"No, don't. Not just for me." He denies it immediately.

But I won't give up now.

"It's not just for you. Myra has been bugging me to do an interactive event with the readers, and if things don't go downhill, who knows? I could even end up signing a contract with Skylight Novels."

Marcus doesn't look satisfied. Doubts and queries hover in his mind. He thinks I'm doing it impulsively, on the spur of the moment. Although to be brutally honest, I've thought about going back more than twice. It'd be great for our career and Ben wouldn't lose a father figure.

I walk up to Marcus and take his hands in mine.

"And Ben would be delighted to see a change of scenery. He'd be happy as long as he has his family."

I peck him on the cheek and wait patiently for his approval. A minute and two go by before he lets out a sigh and nods.

"But what if he finds out about Ben?" Marcus asks gravely, and I shake my head. I hate even the prospect of Denzel finding out about Ben.

"He won't. I'll make sure of that." I say, gritting my teeth. There's no way I'll let that heartless robot take away my son.

"You really have figured it out. Then I have no problem with it."

We both stretch a smile before I send him off to email the Skylight Novels that he'll be joining them soon.

I text Myra that I'll be coming back for the book signing event. And I'm looking forward to signing a contract with her company

Going back home isn't the hardest part. The hardest part is avoiding clashing with a rock that would be standing there in the face of a furious Denzel Flynn. According to my memory, he cherished destroying people who had crossed him the last time I was with him.

I hope he's changed his ways.

"Is everything here?" Marcus asks once we get the stuff inside our apartment.

Yes, and by 'our', I mean we're sharing it. We rented it as soon as we saw the design. It was indeed the best deal we could find on two days' short notice. Besides, it will be only a temporary residence until I save up enough to buy a home. I can't believe I'm going to be living together with him.

I remind myself that it's only temporary-but it doesn't change much.

"Did you get a response from Myra?" Marcus puts down a box of kitchen utilities he was carrying on the floor and cuts them open.

My eyes follow his arms, the way his muscles flex and relax and the sweat that coats them. He's only wearing a blue T-shirt and jeans. I'm not attracted to him or anything, but I haven't dated for five years.

It doesn't hurt to admire a free show, right?

His question comes back to me. "She's invited us to an event. Skylight Novels & Publishing is going to celebrate the opening of its branch in San Francisco tonight."

"That's nice. But what about Ben?" He looks up from his work, paying attention.

Did I mention I just love how he cares so much about Ben?

"Yeah, I already talked to Myra if I could bring him with us. She said it's fine. She's bringing her kids there as well; so Ben would be safe and occupied with them. They'll have their own playroom and whatnot."

It worries me a little to leave Ben with someone else, but I suppose that's just a mother's intuition. I will go check up on him from time to time.

"I think Ben would enjoy his time." Marcus gives an approving nod and wipes the sweat from his forehead. He replaces a few other boxes before heading towards the bathroom, to my guess, to take a shower.

I absent-mindedly take a stroll through the apartment and gaze around all the giant stacks of boxes we've brought. However, curiosity fills my brain when I see a brown parcel with no sender name or return address on it, placed on the dining table in seclusion.

I almost forgot about it during the move. It still bewilders me to guess who'd send an unnamed parcel to me. But what lies inside the box excites and terrifies me at the same time.

I hope I'm not dealing with a serial killer.

I take the parcel in my hand and check for any details once more. But it's just my name and address on it like the first time.

Holding the parcel, I hesitate for a second or two before I get a grip on myself and decide to open it. My fingernails hover close to the tape and taking my time, I tear it open. The sound of the tear echoes in the quiet hall.

But not long after, a wild scream silences the echoes-my scream.

I yelp and bounce back in all hysterics as the contents of the parcel spill out. My heart jumps to my throat and my brain freezes.

My hands are trembling and tears slide freely down my cheeks. I don't hear him, but soon enough, I feel a protective set of arms wrap around me. Marcus holds me and kicks away the parcel I've dropped.

But the sight is still horrendous and fearful.

"Snakes! Snakes!" I scoot away from the heinous beings as far as I can.

It takes a moment for my brain to calm down and take in my surroundings. Only then do I find out that the snakes are motionless on the floor and not slithering about.

Marcus rescues me from the spot and brings me halfway across the hall. With great care, he puts me down on the couch.

My heart still races, but my mind is no longer frozen; which is why the shame of Marcus's nudity dawns upon me like Zeus's lightning bolt.

"Marcus!" I gasp, covering my eyes with the back of my hands. I can't forgive myself for invading his privacy.

The poor guy has the scent of fresh shower and soap on him and only a towel around his waist.

"I'm sorry! I heard you scream, and I didn't think-" He cuts himself off and runs away to put on his clothing. When I see him return, he still has wet hair, but at least he's covered his torso.

When the shock subsides, I'm overwhelmed by the previous terror that's still lying on my floor. Marcus kneels before me and soothingly rubs my back. "You okay?"

"Yeah... Can you just dispose of them? I don't think I can handle it. Whoever sent that parcel knew I'm terrified of snakes."

He nods and walks to the spot. I don't see what he's doing. In hopes of providing ease to my fearful mind, I close my eyes and rub my forehead. My heart is still hysterical.

I hear footsteps approach me soon after. I open my eyes and see Marcus stand before me with a scrap of paper in his clutch.

I instantly recognize it. "A threat letter as well?"

This nameless person has some serious psychotic problems.

"What does it say?" I can read it on his face that Marcus doesn't want to tell me. Thinking that it couldn't get any worse, I sneak the paper out of his fingers. And sure enough, it's a threat letter.

'Next time think twice before stealing other people's work, bitch.'

"Is this related to that anonymous account that bullied and accused you of plagiarism?"

I acknowledge his question with a shrug as I recall something similar. Around six months ago, a person online started accusing me of plagiarism and defaming me. I reported her to all the social media I use. The issue never got bigger, and the person disappeared.

I've never heard anything from him again until this parcel.

"You know what? Why don't you get some rest? You'd want to have your beauty sleep before the event, right?" Marcus suggests, snatching the paper out of my hands.

Honestly, if I stared any longer, those words might start moving out of the letter.

I smile at him and do as he says. I've long lost my appetite, so I skip to the bedroom. But instead of going to mine, I sneak inside Ben's bed and under his quilts. I peck him on the head and fall asleep curled up beside him, pushing all the negativity and overthinking to the back of my head so they don't invade his sleep.

******

"Do you think I look weird? I'm not used to dresses." I ask Marcus as we enter the hotel lobby.

From my experience with Denzel, I know these kinds of events ought to be fancy and I don't want to be an outcast. But wearing six-inch-high heels and limping around isn't helping my situation either.

"Only a blind man would call you weird tonight, Naomi." Marcus intertwines our arms as we make our way to the celebration. And it isn't a romantic gesture, it's to make sure I don't fall and bruise my pretty face.

We've already left Ben to Myra's care in one of the booked rooms. She has security watching over the kids and they can call or FaceTime us whenever they need.

The slow music of the violin and the scent of expensive champagne fill the hall as we enter. It's a rich people's party, as I've assumed. But in my black maxi with a slit up to my thigh and Marcus in his business tuxedo, we don't stand out.

The editors and agents from Skylight Novels & Publishing will be here tonight. Marcus needs to play his role, and I'll have to roll with mine.

Myra approaches us and steals away Marcus to introduce him to the chief editor, her boss. Then she returns to me and takes me to meet her co-workers and friends. We talk about my next submission to her team, and its likely potential to get contracted.

"You know, I don't think romantic tragedies are widespread in terms of e-books." One editor from the group says.

"That's because people only favour happy endings. Their life is tragic enough as it is." It is an author who speaks.

"They're right when they said happy endings only exist on paper," Myra speaks disappointedly. And I wouldn't expect anything else from a devoted employee and also someone who has a full-time job as a single mother with two kids and no spare time.

If it wasn't for Marcus, I, too, would probably feel that way.

"That's not true." The voice comes from behind me and it sends a chill down my spine.

Suddenly, that voice casts a powerful spell that overtakes everyone. No one is chatting in the entire hall and the music has dimmed too. Nervousness and fear overwhelm the people in front of me.

I know a person who has that same effect on the people in his surroundings. Someone who takes control of the entire crowd the moment he walks into a room.

"I do actually believe in happy endings." The voice continues and footsteps approach our circle. Everyone gets extra cautious, as if a predator is heading their way.

"You just have to be cunning and powerful enough to have it." The man gives away his empty glass to one server. And just when I think he wouldn't recognize me, his neck turns my way and a pair of electric blue eyes stare into my soul.

"Don't you agree, Miss West?" A crooked smile stretches across his face with, what I can assume is, a wicked intention. What's more fatal is that the smile doesn't reach his eyes.

I try to smile back like a normal person, but my lips freeze in place. So I end up nodding rapidly.

He laughs, amused. His eyes wander around my skin and then fix on my face as if he's confirmed his next prey.

"It's been a long time, Miss West."

There is a void in his tone that speaks louder and cuts sharper than his actual words. And this time too, I end up nodding like a tongue-tied idiot. Even though I'm frozen in shock and fear.

"Hope you guys wouldn't mind if I whisk her away for a quick get-together?"

Denzel intertwines our arms and whisks me away before anyone can oppose him. Not that it was going to happen. He didn't even give them a chance.

He drags me away from the hall in urgency. I trust him to lead the way as I keep turning back to find any trace of Marcus. Denzel doesn't stop jogging and dragging me behind him until we've reached a secluded terrace.

When we do, he lets go of my arm quickly and harshly. It makes me believe as if he's appalled. His back has been facing me for some time, but when he turns around, I see pure rage flush his face and no mercy shine in his terrifying eyes.

The only thought weighing on my mind is that I don't want to die young.