The Landon Billionaires (7 stories)

CHAPTER FOUR: THE POOR HEIRESS

Dem could not believe the gall of the man sitting opposite her with a glass of scotch in his hand. He was asking for money?! How dared he? After he had treated her like she was the gold digger for having been willing to marry him for financial reasons.

There had been no direct confrontation, of course. Never had he accused with words for her greed or lack of character. Dem was no fool though; she could read between the lines of the frequent digs he had taken at her or her father. Every disguised undertone had acted like a dagger to her heart, and she had completely ignored the connotations. It was not worth it. There was no point in justifying herself to a man like him.

He had the courage to ask for her damned money now. Of course, it was all a ploy; she had seen it all before. Not from a past husband but from an ex-friend. The only one who she had believed as her true well-wisher.

It all came back. The memories that she had so long suppressed flooded her. Memories she had buried for six years. The fateful night when she had discovered the true nature of everyone around her. Her unscrupulous father. Her deceitful mother. Her treacherous so-called friend. Sam. Samuel Jack Patterson.

The rat who had befriended her just because of her money. She had never realized his con until her eighteenth birthday. She had attended the Millbrook boarding school in New York, had met him in her last year during one of the interscholastic soccer matches. He had been the star of the final match and had won over many hearts with his matches.

Nevertheless, what had impressed Dem more was his determination to make it through the finals despite his injury. He had a fierce determination which she had admired, she had sought him out after the match – something she rarely did. Needless to say, he had been flattered, had gone all cocky when he had discovered that someone like her was interested in him, but Dem had been clear from the start that she was not looking for any romantic involvement.

Fortunately, he had appeared to back off, which had been a huge relief, leading to a deeper friendship. Sam had helped her combat her loneliness and gradually she had allowed him in her life, had shown him who the real Demetria was, feeling encouraged when he had never laughed. Never mocked her silly dreams of becoming a botanist. Of getting higher education and becoming someone more significant than a petty heiress.

When boarding school was over after six months, Dem had wanted to stay in New York with Sam. She had been summoned back home by her father’s secretary to perform her social duties, and it had started the first seed of rebellion. Sam had somehow managed to tamper down her indignation though, by moving to Philadelphia only to be close to her. With the utmost discretion, they had decided that they would leave to New York after a few months.

Dem had been pacified and had started to like Philly more than ever; she would no longer be alone there. Sam came to visit her at the house when even her parents had not disapproved of her friendship with him. Not that they had cared; Dem doubted her father even knew his existence, and she had not given a damn as well.

Yet after a while, she had gotten bored with the hollow life her parents had carved for her; she had wanted more from life. For instance, they did not want her to continue with her degree since education would be a waste for her. She was supposed to nurture her looks and manners to perfection until she was of marriageable age to merge with a rich alliance. Those were the things she had been able to share with Sam. Until the day she had discovered his truth.

Fate had handed it to her as a birthday gift. Her eighteenth birthday would be different, she had vowed to herself. It would be the day when she would finally break free from the demons of her past to start a life for herself. She would get an education in botany, maybe start a career.

Her parents had not even bothered to wish her a happy birthday as usual, and she had refused to wallow in self-pity like she had done since she had started to understand the meaning of birthdays. She was going back to New York with Sam to start her life over. No more pointless social gatherings. No more pouting for the cameras with her picture-perfect looks.

Feeling happy for the first time in her life, she was packing her bag. She was taking only the essentials not wanting to be in debt of her parents. After all, it was her first independent attempt, and she wanted to start clear. For a moment, she debated whether to take some cash but dismissed the idea. It would be futile to take their money when she wanted to prove she did not want it in the first place.

Her maternal grandmother Fiona Wilfred had left a huge inheritance for her, she was however not allowed to withdraw any amount of money until she was twenty-one years old, knowing her father would be furious with her escape and would cut off all her income. She did not care though. Sam would have money for the fare tickets, and she would make it from there.

When she reached the studio, she was surprised to hear voices inside. She had not bothered to inform Sam she was coming over; they had planned her escape on the day they had moved back to Philly, had never really elaborated any plan of action afterwards. Dem had inexorably been living for that day only, had been in fact counting days.

Suddenly, she felt embarrassed at her impulsive decision. She was disguised as a simple girl as a ruse to avoid media attention and felt like an imbecile as she hesitated before knocking on the door. The reason for her pause was because she heard a female voice inside, from the sounds echoing outside, it was clear that they were having a good time. She had completely ignored the fact that Sam had a life too. Not everyone was like her. Sam had never mentioned anyone in his life.

Would she be intruding? Torn between knocking on the door and waiting downstairs at the end of the staircase, Dem was still trying to figure out what to do when the door flung open, and she came face-to-face with the woman. For a second, Dem failed to register what was going on.

The cloaked woman stared at her in disbelief and Dem found out that her mind drew a blank. For several seconds, she stood staring at the woman unable to process anything except the woman in front of her. Shock and horror. Those were the emotions that filled her next. Then came disbelief. Denial.

Finally, Sam appeared on the doorway wearing a towel around his waist. “Who is it, darling?” he asked coming out of a corridor, stopping short at the sight of her.

Then it all happened in a blur. Anger engulfed her as the final huge sense of betrayal slam her. How could Sam do this to her? How could her mother do this to her? How could they be sleeping together??

“Demetria,” her mother said in a tone which she had never used before, but Dem was beyond consolation. She did not want her mother to give her any explanations or any reasons to justify her actions. It would never be enough for her.

Her face must have reflected her disgust because her dear mother snapped back whatever she had been ready to utter while Sam intervened. Dem found she could not even look at him.

“Dem, I’m sorry you had to find out about this,” he said in a clipped tone, and she nodded rigidly at his apologetic words. She was too used to controlling her emotions to let anything apparent, even then she was maintaining her polite façade.

His apology did not matter. All his sympathy and his principles had been a farce. They were mocking her now. Her mother stood looking at her for a while, but her body language was clear and unyielding. Finally, Bethany moved away leaving her alone with Sam.

Dem stood at the door waiting for something. Anything which would absolve Sam. Even in her delusion, she knew her friend was as guilty as her own mother for this affair. “How could you?” she finally flung the accusation at him. She knew it was a question she would never ask her mother since she had no connection with the latter.

He lifted his hand in denial. “She came onto me one day. Dem, I swear I never intended…listen…I feel something for you…no,” he stopped his influx of words at the expression on her face. It must have been a cynical sneer. Surely, he would not be confessing undying love for her at that inopportune moment.

“I know it sounds…I’m…. You drove me to this,” he finally said in a grief-stricken voice.

Dem said nothing else. He was pathetic. She moved away from him, welcoming the familiar ache that settled around her heart. This was something she was used to. Loneliness and pain. For the last nine months, hope had blossomed in her heart trying to kill the lifelong pain, something that would no longer do.

She had no intention of backing off now. So what if she had no money? She would make it on her own to New York and fulfill her f*****g dreams even if it was the last thing she did. She was still under disguise but her undercover status would not last long. Her platinum blonde hair was too unique to hide. She would dye it first thing when she reached New York.

For the time being, it was safely pinned up in a tight bun and nobody would pay much attention to her attire. Despite the risk of being exposed in her get-up, she wished that she had used more camouflage, never considering backing down. As she walked down the streets, her head and emotions in turmoil, she was unable to weigh out her options. She was still under shock.

How could her mother betray her father like that? She knew her father was no saint, but she had never realized that a******y ran both ways in her family. Hell, women were supposed to be the martyrs, weren’t they? Did her father know? Did it even matter?

Dem was a mass of confusion, suddenly her recent discovery was too much of a burden for her. Her shoulder felt heavy with the burden she had just learnt, and she clumped down on a nearby bench trying to understand what was happening. Why wasn’t she more like her parents? Cold-blooded and calculating?

When she was raised in a household where all that mattered was money, how could she hope that there was something more to life that that? What about other people? Were they happy? She felt as if her world had undergone a paradigm shift, and she no longer had any solid support to lean on. Her whole foundation was wrong. She shivered in disgust, unable to manufacture one single drop of a tear. Lost in her pain, she never knew for how long she sat there until she felt the coldness of the evening seeping into her bones. Sitting alone on a bench in a desolate area where an heiress would make a very good pawn, the lateness of the hour dawned on her.

Unnerved by her carelessness, she stood up, making her mind to go back home. She was still too raw from the emotions she had just discovered and wanted to calm down before taking any other step. The more she accepted the reality of her mother, the more determined she became to escape that golden cage no, the more she realized that there was nothing left in their relationship.

Just as she crossed the deserted street to join an urban habited area, a figure loomed in the dark, grabbing her. Scared to death, she did not even scream, but she was no wimp; she futilely struggled out of the iron-clad grip until she was exhausted.

She kept struggling anyway until she was unceremoniously flung at the back of a truck and administered something. Then she went in a haze and remembered that somebody lifted her limp body and carried her to a barn. After that, the memories were blurred as she had drifted into oblivion.

One thing she would never forget though was the fact that she woke up to her father’s murderous looking face. She quivered under the effect. It appeared that she had been drugged and could have died of an overdose. She’d been lucky to survive, and she had been left on her own to die after the thief had robbed whatever he could from her bag. If it hadn’t been for her mother, she would never have been found out.

Dem assumed that her mother must have confessed about the affair too because her father would have wanted to know what she had been doing at Sam’s place in the early evening. She found out later that her mother had lied and had said that she had accompanied her daughter to her friend’s apartment where they had fought, eventually ending in Dem throwing one of her “tantrums”, fleeing from the apartment before her mother could have stopped her. Bethany had played an excellent victim, William an impeccable dictator, and Dem a perfect doll. With no feelings whatsoever.

The media had gotten nose of the affair while her father had done his best to cover up the whole mess. The story had come out anyway blown out of proportions of course. That she had had a lover’s tiff and had taken too much drugs. That she had always been a d**g addict. That lover boy Sam had been interested in her money and had made a fool out of her.

Even if that had been the most humiliating part, it had been the bitter truth. Her father had offered Sam money to get out of her life and the latter had disappeared as fast as lightning, after pocketing the hefty amount of course. The affair with her mother had died too, and her father had never found out. They had all believed that she had been Sam’s lover.

Her father had summoned her after her recovery to explain carefully that no such error would be tolerated again. That he had saved her life, that she owed him that much at least. To be a perfect daughter until she was found a match suitable for their status. Then she would marry and play the perfect wife.

After that encounter, Dem had had no ambitions left. Life had defeated her. She no longer felt like she wanted to educate herself or that her life had any purpose. Her heart had been broken so badly that she no longer cared what happened to her. She would just exist for the sake of existing, and she was a professional at pretending.

Like she was now. Pretending not to want to murder her husband for his sudden need of money. It was too convenient. Of course, he would have waited seven months of pure marital bliss before actually raising the money issue. He was so cunning that he had not even asked her. Of course not!

He was only implying that he was broke for her to suggest that he might take some of her own money for the time being. After the illusion had shattered, Dem had met many sharks of that genre in her life. They had all pursued her for one purpose: her inheritance.

Unfortunately for him and fortunately for her, she knew too well how to deal with the likes of him.

“How much money are we talking here?” she asked factually trying to get a grip on the anger which threatened to meddle her thoughts.

He named an amount which would have made her gasp, but she had been expecting more. It would not stop here; he would bleed her dry.

“Where do I fit in this?” she asked gauging time to understand what he wanted from her. He tried a discomfited look; Dem was not fooled though. She was too accustomed to fake her feelings not to recognize the sham.

He shrugged, looking more uncomfortable. Something which made her smile inside as she had never seen Chase Landon look ruffled. Not even when he’d been struggling to adapt to richness and had been clear out of his element in the earlier days.

“You’re my wife,” he finally rasped impatiently. “I thought you would want to know about my business affairs.”

Oooh subtle, wasn’t he? He was playing the considerate husband now? After seven months of sheer isolation and ignorance on his behalf. How convenient.

“Well, as your wife, I will stand by you and help you in any way I can,” she delivered purposely leaving the offer of her money as an undertone, giving him what he wanted. An opening. Now, he would suggest she helped him financially. Or maybe he would sound affronted at the prospect of using her money for a while before conceding that they had no other options. Dem was eager to discover which strategy he would adopt.

“What?!” he exclaimed, his voice rising half an octave with a volume stirred by simple shock.

Strategy number two it was then. Outraged at the prospect of taking his wife’s money. Dem would have smiled if the situation had not been so laden with tension. They were talking politely but looked like two caged animals ready to pounce on each other at the merest threat.

She shrugged in response to his exclamation playing with him so that he would cringe under the uncertainty of the situation. Chase Landon was made of sterner stuff than that. He squared his shoulders rapidly recovering from the shock, and Dem had to acknowledge she admired the recovery of his posture.

Lesser men would have cowered under her glacier gaze especially when they were announcing that they were ruined.

“I don’t think you can adapt to the kind of life awaiting me,” he finally suggested while Dem found that she could still be shocked. Well, she hadn’t been expecting that. He was trying to turn the whole thing to her benefit. Would take her own money and would convince her it was out of his concern for her. How hilarious.

Where the hell was that concern for the past seven months???

He had completely ignored her very existence using business as an excuse to get away. Dem knew they were pretexts since she had been living with them all her life. Her father going away on frequent business trips to conduct his affairs. Her mother on her social trips to conduct her affairs. Dem knew the drill all the way.

“You’d be surprised,” she said coolly, watching as Chase frowned at her wearing a puzzled look. He was trying to discern her thoughts and was looking for the moment to suggest that maybe she could help diffuse the situation. That was the precise moment Dem was waiting for. Before going in for the kill.

“I don’t understand,” he finally admitted not looking in her direction anymore. He looked like he was a specimen he would never be able to perceive. “You’re saying that you would stay married to me even if I’m broke?”

Dem managed the merest nod. Here it comes! She could practically dictate his next words. Well then maybe we could use some of your inheritance money to get us out of the tight situation.

She was wrong.

“I would totally understand if you want to leave,” he was quick to reassure her. “It’s not as if we’re a love match or something. I mean…we married for money and now that it’s out of the equation…”

He looked at her expectantly, while Dem suddenly realized that he was not asking for her money. All anger evaporated as she looked at the man in front of her. For a moment, he had sounded vulnerable. Was he worried that she might leave him because he was now poor?

Had she completely misunderstood him? Was that what it was all about? She had to be sure. “I could give you the amount you need,” she simply said, watching his face lose all color.