The Landon Billionaires (7 stories)

CHAPTER FIVE: THE FABRICATED STORY

Enraged, Chase gawked uncomprehendingly at his defiant wife standing in front of him unable to comprehend her last sentence. Was she offering him her money? It was the last thing he would have expected from her. Considering that she looked like a tigress ready to pounce on him, Chase deduced it was more likely a fluke.

Her stance was anything but helpful, nobody offered support looking like she was ready to shred him to pieces. Of course, her expression held none of the murderous emotions she was feeling, despite the fact that she could not hide her body language from him this time. As far as he knew, Demetria Hilton would never share her money with him.

Not that he was interested in her b****y money. He had class after all. Even he had learnt the manners of the rich society. Lifting his eyebrows, he squared his jaws and bestowed her with an arrogant look.

“Of course not. I would totally understand if you…”

“What do you mean by “of course not”?” she interrupted him rudely, something his perfect wife never did. It seemed that she was not even interested in hearing him out. All she wanted was to offer her b****y money. Why couldn’t she be as predictable as she had been for the past months? If she followed that pattern, she would be out of his life in no time.

He tampered down his exasperation and called for patience.

“Of course not, I don’t want your money,” he repeated more calmly, watching as shock filled her grey eyes.

“You won’t take my money?” she repeated as if in a daze. Since it was a rhetorical question, Chase did not even bother replying her. What the hell had she been expecting? That he was asking for her money? Maybe. That explained her fury. He let out a humorless laugh.

“I have inherited some money from my grandmother, and I could help you for the time being. You could repay me in your own time,” she told him with an expectant look.

“No thank you. I have a few savings; I will manage better on my own. Besides, that is not the point here,” he informed her succinctly.

“So is that it? Am I being dismissed from your life?” she queried and for the first time he had known her, she looked really pissed off. Instead of making her look like a rich brat – like she was supposed to - she looked like an sss. A fierce one. A beautiful one.

Suddenly, he had another flash of her in his bedroom with her fierce anger turning to fierce passion. He banished that fleeting thought from his mind as fast as it had appeared.

“No, it’s not that,” he replied, trying to keep track of the conversation. Hell, he was having trouble concentrating just because she had showed him a single emotion, even if it was anger. What would happen to him if she ever showed him other sentiments?

Like passion.

It was time to get a grip on his overactive libido. He could not be fantasizing about Demetria Hilton for God’s sake.

“I’m only concerned that you wouldn’t be able to adapt to our new modest life,” he finally informed her and despised himself for being such a hypocrite. It was not as if he was concerned about her welfare. Hell, no! He wanted her out of his life.

Demetria, however, was no fool.

“Oh yeah? Where was your concern for the past seven months then?” she rasped at him angrily.

He was unable to hide the guilty flush which knew stained his cheeks. “I have been busy,” he remarked abruptly, finally accepting to himself that she was not going to make it easy for him. “Look…” he paused and looked at her. Really looked at her.

He saw that her cheeks were pink from restrained anger. Chase wondered what the hell had happened to her for she was being very susceptible. Maybe it was something from her past. Somebody had hurt her for money. Some ex-lover maybe. He did not care.

“I really don’t know how to handle this situation. I am going to have a lot on my hands in the coming months and…”

“You mean more than you already had?” she inquired politely not an ounce of mockery in her voice, but Chase winced at the effect it had on him. It was a hidden barb. She was taunting him, because he had left her on her own ever since they had been married. Of course, she had plausible reasons. He had been ignoring her very rudely after their marriage and had avoided her by travelling on false business pretexts. Hell, he had no idea what she had been up to in his own house.

He had wanted her to react. Had wanted her taunts. Not now. Not when he was executing his perfect plan.

“Demetria,” he said, savoring her name on his tongue with distaste. It was a rare name, and he hated it. It sounded too perfect and too artificial. Just like her. “I’m trying here,” he finally conceded, throwing her a defeated look.

Anger gone, she looked at him with her neutral expression, her grey eyes fathomless which almost made her look like a zombie. Her eyes were too big for her heart shaped face and when they held no life in them, she looked like she was from the WALKING DEAD. He felt a powerful need to shake some life into her. Some emotions in those insipid eyes. Anything. Even the anger had been better than this comatose doll.

“Fine,” she said crossing her arms over her chest, the action causing her breasts to protrude more than they should. Giving him the knowledge that they had substance instead of being two small peaks. A knowledge he could have well done without when he suddenly found himself drooling, could not help wondering how the lush flesh would feel in his hands. He liked women breast to be full and soft. He could have kicked himself again as he found his crotch growing hard. Why the hell was he thinking like a p*****t? He never had such thoughts about a woman. Okay, he had. Not Demetria though.

He tried to focus but found that he was at a loss for words. His concentration was zapped, and he was behaving like a teenager. l**t was overpowering his brain, taking over his most rational thoughts until all he could think of was his wife tangled in all kind of positions around him.

“I’m listening,” she said, and her cool voice was enough to break him out of his reverie. It was time to get away from her. Like he had always done. That stupid effect she had on him was going to make things ugly.

He took a deep breath and flushed all thoughts of s*x out of his mind. He must be starved. It was, after all, more than one year that he had indulged in any s****l activity. Maybe it was time to end his celibacy. Chase hated s*x without emotion. Of course, by emotion he did not mean love. The strict minimum was that he should at least feel l**t for someone before bedding her. Because he abhorred the empty feeling after the quick release that he’d felt during his younger days.

When s*x was only physical, it left him starving for more. Something to complete him. So far, even if he fancied the person he had taken to bed, he had never felt whole after the initial aftermath had worn off. Not even with Samantha, his last girlfriend who’d lasted for more than a year. They had broken up more than a year ago, because she had wanted to pursue her career, and Chase had little time to chase the woman around the world. Surprisingly enough, when she had gone, he had not even missed her. He had enjoyed bachelorhood. Until now.

“I don’t think it’s fair to dump my mistake on you. I am no longer able to cater for your needs. You’re underestimating the situation; we will have to sell this house. Relocate, maybe,” he improvised. Hell, he was trying to scare her off. “I will no longer be able to afford anything extravagant for a while,” he believed he had to elaborate the details for her. Make it sound like a horror movie.

“You will have to sacrifice your lifestyle something you’ve been used to since birth,” he emphasized trying to make a point. He wanted to make her see that she would never fit in his life. “I will be okay since I am used to living with less privileges. I will have to manage everything before my father returns back from his cruise.”

“What happened exactly?” she asked, and Chase felt his heart skip a beat at her question. Was she suspicious about something? When he looked, he found concern in the fathomless bottom of her lifeless grey eyes, unable to mask his surprise. Could the princess be feeling pity for him?

Instead of rejoicing that he finally had her where he wanted, he felt like a bastard. He was not proud of what he was doing. He hated lies. He had always been one to believe in honesty being the best policy and all that. Besides, how was he supposed to know that his wife would show him concern when she was nothing more than a cold b***h? Usually.

At that time it had seemed a brilliant idea. Now it was more like a challenge than a solution.

“One of our main machines broke down and all the other subordinates’ machines produced defective clothes for the production house,” he manufactured the lie based on a true event which had happened some years ago. They had suffered a colossal amount of money but had recovered thanks to some of his father’s contacts.

“You’re talking about Landon Equipment, aren’t you? What about Landon Shipping and Landon Garments?”

Demetria Hilton was no fool; something he had always known deep inside his heart. She was indeed more substantial than she wanted people to believe. Inexorably, Chase felt his heart undergo a minor seizure. It was almost as if he was terrified to discover what was beneath the façade now that he had unraveled part of the mystery.

“They are unfortunately linked. Landon Equipment profits goes into Landon Garments and Landon Shipping has nothing to ship for the moment since we have thousands of faulty materials in the warehouses. Bottom line is the gearing ratio is bad for all three.” He sighed for good measure and prayed that he would not be punished for telling so many lies.

“So what is your contingency plan?” she asked him after some minutes of silence.

Chase was extremely furious. Why the hell did she care? Why was she doing all this? Complicating everything with her questions like she cared. She was simply supposed to be outraged by his lack of judgement and throw away their so-called perfect marriage at the first chance. Couldn’t she see that he was offering her a way out?

He slumped his shoulders in defeat, to his surprise, he found her coming closer to him. “Never mind,” she said quickly, actually placing a hand on his shoulders. She was comforting him? God help him!

Demetria the zombie was melting? He must be dreaming. Her touch quickly made him realize that this was no dream; a jolt of electricity ripple through him at the place where her hand stayed on his shoulder for several minutes. The touch was not cold. Not at all. Not at all like he had imagined her touch to be. It was warm and conveyed so many feelings that he felt himself burning up.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked so many questions. I wish I could help you but my father never…I’ve never had any interest in the business world,” she was quick to rectify removing her hand, Chase instantly picked up the blunder though.

William Hilton was a ruthless businessman; he would undeniably make an even crueler father. Chase knew him personally since he had been dealing directly with him for the last months about the whole money-transfer-marriage thing. In place of the merger he had assumed, there had been a considerate extortion of a colossal amount of money. Without blinking an eye.

“That’s okay,” he found himself say. Maybe he would burn in hell after so many lies, and Demetria would become the angel to save him. Things were really starting to deform in front of him and matters were getting out of hand.

One thing he must not forget is that his wife was Demetria Jewel Hilton. She would change her mind soon enough; she was used to the glam life. After all, he knew her so well for so many years. She wore a different dress to attend a party every time, each dress more beautiful than the other. He had never seen her other than immaculate except a few hours ago when she had been gardening. Which did not count.

Her public website was full of pointless selfies where she was always pouting and ready for a pose. Surrounded by her so-called friends. She was always surrounded by friends, yet she never seemed close to anyone. Not even her parents.

He could not give up now. He was going to pay anyway for having told her such a lie, but he must continue with the farce for some time. Because of one thing he was sure. Given a few months trying to make ends meet, Demetria would run away from him as fast as her flamingo legs could carry her.

“Well, you can count on me,” she said cutting off his line of thoughts. “I will try to help you in any other possible way.”

It sounded like a promise.

Chase did not even turn around to watch her exit. Not after the empty words she had offered. Three weeks was the best she would stay. He could bet his entire wealth on that. Given that her reaction was different from what he had predicted. Maybe he had judged her too harshly.

This was a façade even Demetria could not put up. Living in poverty was no joke. Okay, maybe he was dramatizing a bit. He would not pretend to be that poor. It was going to be a pitiable state enough for Miss Hilton – somebody who had been born to wealth.

No more luxurious clothes.

No more luxurious cars.

No more luxurious holidays.

No more luxurious food.

Of course, he was not going to make it easy for her. What better opportunity than this to teach her a lesson that she would remember all her life? Or at least in the three weeks she was supposed to last. Chase supposed it could even be faster than that, and he couldn’t be happier.

That was what he was trying to convince himself as he laid on his bed that night trying to ignore the rush of shower sounding from the connecting door nearby. He had never felt bothered by her presence in his house before since he had been practically living out of country for the first four months of their marriage.

The other three months he had always worked till late in his office or his study going to his room only when he was too tired to even think. Tonight, was somehow different. His mind was in turmoil, and he could not risk making a wrong decision by working out till late. He was restless, blaming his permanent hard on the fact the he was tired.

Lying was stressful, he decided before he turned on his bed again. Usually, he avoided lies but this was a desperate situation. Come to think of it, he was doing both himself and Mrs. Landon a favor. The faster they got rid of each other, the better off they would be.

That was what he told himself when his mahogany door opened tentatively, and he rubbed his sleepy eyes to discern the small figure looming in the dark. It was Demetria standing at the doorway, Chase felt shell shocked at her appearance. What the hell was she doing in his bedroom?

Then she entered the dimly lit room and Chase discovered that she was wearing a sexy-laced black lingerie – a one piece, which barely covered her skin as the cloth was translucent. Her bust jutted out of the breast encasing which was supposed to contain the organ instead of making it appear like it was on offer to him.

His brain had altogether stopped functioning as he felt an incredible hunger gnawing at it, overriding any other emotions. It was nothing like he had ever experienced before, not even in his teens. It was raw, urgent and hot, something which would not quench until he took his fill. Even then he got the feeling he would not be satiated.

That feeling was unhealthy.

She was walking slowly towards him, and she looked tantalizing with her long platinum blonde hair sleek straight flowing down to her waist. The way he had always wanted to see it. In its full glory. Her hands were on her waist while she moved to the bed lounging her body forward, the movement was so sexy that he nearly lost it then and there.

Her perfect derrière was lifted in a suggestive way, while she crawled onto the bed stretching at his left side like a sexy kitten. He clenched his hands at his sides not sure what he was waiting for. He wanted to leap on her only to find that he was fixated on the bed like a statue. He could have cursed at the untimely moment of his handicap.

Demetria was looking completely at ease on his bed not in a hurry for anything, and he could not help but moan at the way she was torturing him. This was definitely not the automaton he had always known. Her transformation was drastic – from robot to siren.

Finally, she lifted her body and saddled him with her legs on either of his sides. He could see the nightie slip up at the movement, displaying creamy white thighs, and he licked his lips in anticipation. Never had he wanted anything so fiercely in his life. When her crotch descended on his belly, the contact made him whimper in pain when he realized that she was not wearing anything underneath. It was n***d skin against n***d skin. He was so close to losing control – something which never happened to him.

As if knowing what effect she had on him, she rubbed her most sensitive part against his skin and he felt the warmth of her skin starting a fire which started at his belly, engulfing his groin. It was all he could bear. Incensed at such a passionate reaction, he grabbed her and flipped her over so that their positions were reversed. He was atop her.

He kissed her. Took possession of her lips but felt no satisfaction. His hunger was not even pacified he felt he needed more and more. Insatiate, he plunged his tongue deeper asking more, but the more he demanded the emptier he felt. He could not even taste her. It was pure t*****e.

Puzzled, he lifted his face to look down at her, horrified to find that instead of being the passionate woman lost in throes of desire, she looked perfectly placid wearing her usual neutral expression. Chase wanted to leap out of the bed from her. He was confused. How could she remain so calm when there was a storm raging inside him? He wanted to ask her what the hell was wrong with her.

Then suddenly, she plastered her trademark false smile. “Chase, tell me. Is my hair out of place?”

Jerking out of his sleep like something had bitten him, he was stunned to find his room empty. There was no woman in his room sultry or otherwise, he’d only been fantasizing about his wife, and realized that he just had a wet dream. A wet nightmare more likely.