Touch the Billionaire

Chapter 2

Brows knitted, Yuri took in a sharp breath. “Yula, I don’t want to go to that useless party tonight!” he told his older sister in their Russian language.

Yuri Guryev paced inside his main office in a skyscraper. He was only a meter away from the glass wall that faced the main street where many people passed by. Moscow’s autumn mid-afternoon traffic jam was noticeable from where he was, on the fiftieth floor. The skyscraper had sixty floors, which he owns as one of Russia’s billionaires. Aside from owning a number of banks, he was also an owner of oil, mining, fertilizer and airport businesses. At the age of thirty-five he had a lot of accomplishments, thanks to his being a single man. He had nothing to worry about women. No, scratch that. He did have woman problems—both his older sister and grandmother who always pushed and nagged him to settle down. Soon.

His bluish gray eyes swept around his huge office. It was composed of a huge desk to his left that stood not far away from the glass wall; a living area to the right that had a light blue sofa set, a glass center table with a vase on top of it and a bunch of chamomile flowers inside it; the three walls were painted in cream color; and the white lighting fixtures were recessed in the ceiling and were not on at the moment.

There was one huge painting that was hung on the concrete wall, just opposite the glass wall. It was a painting that his sister purchased at an auction. It was a tropical sunny landscape, where there was beach with splashing waves on the shore; some trees and palm trees were in a straight line, so were the chaise lounges. A lone girl showing her back view sat on the sand with a wide yellow sunhat on top of her head and watched the waves and the vast sea. His sister said it was a serene and beautiful sight, so she bought it for him. She even called the painting Winsome Tranquility. For all he knew, that posed as a reminder to him that he had to have a girl soon since he wasn’t getting any younger, and he had the specific duty to the family, which was to sire and continue their Guryev lineage, pass on their wealth and strengthen their power in the country.

“Yuri, this is a chance for you to pick a girl to marry—or to have a girlfriend if you wish, for a start. It doesn’t matter who since all of them are from good families!” Yula insisted.

Yuri glanced at his wristwatch. It was already past three in the afternoon. He had an appointment with his friend and therapist at five.

“Besides, I hear Alyona will be there. Did you know she already divorced her British husband a month ago?” his sister added.

Yuri froze for a moment or two upon hearing his ex-girlfriend’s name. They broke up even before they finished college. The relationship lasted for about a year but many things happened, and something just couldn’t be shaken off because of her, which left him broken inside.

He gritted his teeth, eyes flashing. “All the more reason why I shouldn’t attend such a worthless birthday party!” He ended the call.

His heart was beating so fast that he could barely breathe. His hands slightly trembled. He inhaled and exhaled long and slow, until his breathing was steady. He sat down in his swivel chair, which had light blue leather upholstery. His eyes scanned his inbox and resumed working. He could’ve done and read all his messages if it wasn’t for his sister’s insignificant call. He’d certainly not go to his sister’s friend’s birthday party. Not even if her life was hanging on a thread!

His sister Yula was married and had a nine-year-old daughter, Margosha. He didn’t know why she seemed to make it her life’s mission to have him married off when she had a family to take care of. She was pushy. He wondered how her husband was able to cope with her. He was thankful he wasn’t his sister’s husband.

Meanwhile, his grandmother was another matter. She was kind. She told him it was time for him to settle down to have someone take care of him, and she had to be sure about it before she’d rest in peace. He must change his mind about her being kind then. It was some kind of a subtle emotional manipulation, since she knew he loved her dearly. After his parents died of plane crash when he was in college, she was all he and Yula had as family. She took good care of them until his sister married to a business mogul, and Yuri was able to take over the entire family business. She was the one who guided him before passing it to him about a little more than a decade ago. Now she was just retired and had nothing to do all day but to remind him to get a wife soon.

“Maybe I’m just not cut to have a wife, Babushka (Grandma),” he told her gently not only once.

Alena, his fragile-looking grandma, touched his cheek as she looked up at him. She only stood five feet and four inches. Hence, he towered her in his six feet height. His grandma’s skin appeared thinner, paler and translucent, and her neat bun was almost all gray, but she still looked elegant in her long skirt and long-sleeved blouse. After all, she was one of Russia’s beauties in her time.

“Net,” Alena, saying “No,” disagreed in a husky voice, old dark blue eyes twinkling. “That’s not true. Everyone has their soulmate, Yuri, if not twin flame. Ultimately, it would be grander if you’d meet your twin flame in this lifetime. Like I did. Your late dedushka was my one and ultimate love. The only one!” She smiled at him toothlessly.

His not-so-handsome face painted a frown, remembering his strict and fierce dedushka—his grandfather. “How can you tell you met your twin flame, Babushka?”

She smiled mysteriously but answered him. “It will be undeniable, Yuri. The connection is there whether you try to have one or not. But you do not really have to try. It will just come naturally. Your heart and soul will recognize your twin flame. You’ll be connected. It is inexplicable in human terms. In time, you’ll just know it deep in your heart.”

The alarm of Yuri’s smartwatch pierced through his pensive thoughts, letting him know it was time for his appointment. He just noticed that he was merely staring at the monitor, without reading the email from the coal mine company’s finance department that was glaring at him in the face.

He answered his cell phone, as it was Adrik who called.

“Are you coming to my clinic or not?”