The Landon Billionaires (7 stories)

PROLOGUE: THE BEGINNING

It was her fifteenth birthday bash. Ineluctably, it was as grandiose as that of a princess since nothing less would be tolerated. She was after all Demetria Jewel Hilton, the sole heiress to several billions of dollars.

There was a scintillating fountain in the courtyard of the palace that her secretary had rented. The venue looked perfect, like something coming straight from her dreams, with the garden starting just at the end of the stairs and expanding to broad horizons of neatly trimmed, perfect grass laced with wildflowers.

As she stood on the balcony of the second story, the lawn looked limitless, but at the horizon, the garden was less formal, ending with an avenue of cypresses. The picturesque outlook made her fingers itch and awaken the artistic painter dormant inside her. Although it was late evening, the scent that the flowers were emanating was invigorating. The magic however was tainted, the place being so crowded that even on the balcony, there was no place for the fresh air to circulate.

The music was loud enough to explode her ears, and her high heels were killing her. Many would believe that she would be used to wearing them and besides, she was not supposed to show any weakness. Demetria Hilton was the hip - happening “thing” for most of her friends, and she had a reputation to maintain.

That was what she had been taught since she was a kid anyway. Her nannies had never failed to remind her that she was a star and not like some mediocre child that one might see around every street corner. Something which was supposed to make feel special except that being rich had always made her feel like an outcast. She was not supposed to have fun like the others; she was not normal. She was supposed to always look classy and perfect. Sometimes it was tiring.

Jaded, she scanned the room, her neck pivoting on her head, in search of something. Anything that would raise her interest. All in vain. The irony behind it all was that she didn’t even know more than half of the people present at her own party. She knew most of them were here because of the feast and free gifts. And it was boring.

She sighed. Everything bored her out of her mind. She should start doing drugs like all the other heiresses. It was not easy being rich. It seemed so long since she’d acted on doing what she wanted instead of pretending to behave as expected of her.

Someone bumped into her, she turned around frowning, hating the feel of the damp skin against hers, and she could take it no more. She was suffocating inside, and she needed some fresh air. She longed to inhale the pure scent of the flowers that were lining the big alley downstairs. Sneaking her way out, she picked a glass of champagne and made her way to the garden.

Taking a tentative sip of the sparkling drink, she barely registered the taste of the alcohol and lost herself in the marvelous view the garden manifested. She almost wished it was daylight so that she could admire the beauty of the foliage around her. She made a mental decision to come and visit the place again as soon as possible when there was no crowd. As she walked down the line of trees, she felt her tension leave as she admired the flowers one by one. She was a real flower freak, and she always wanted to be a botanist.

However, a botanist princess would never do, her parents had told her sternly even before she started to dream about her career. A princess was not supposed to have a career anyway. All she was supposed to do was look pretty even when she was at her lowest low. Filled with distaste at the thought of her parents, she resisted a grimace in case someone was watching all the while trying not to care about the fact that they were in some other continent and had not even bothered to wish her on her special day. Instead, a week before, her mother’s PA had phoned to remind her of the party.

As she caressed a petal against her fingers, she felt herself relax and instantly felt better. She was not supposed to lament over her life like that. She was a privileged kid, and it was more than enough. More than anyone could ever wish for. Suddenly, she felt herself wishing for something that would drive away her loneliness. Something that would make her feel alive.

“It’s dangerous to be out here alone,” someone breathed softly, and she whirled back, her heart nearly jumping out of her chest She had been so lost in her thoughts that she had not even heard approaching footsteps. Fear gripped her immediately since she was always exposed to danger. Ever since she was little, she had been told many times to avoid situations like that, because she could be easily kidnapped.

As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she saw him for the first time. Tall, lean, and handsome. That was her first opinion of him. Although she could not make out his complete features, there was a certain charisma which oozed from him. It made her feel all mushy inside. Something she have never ever felt for anyone else before.

Finally, she realized that she was staring at him like a dumbass, and she recovered quickly from her shock, something that she had been trained to do. Face drawn with a plastered smile, she put on her mask, getting hold of her emotions as quick as possible and pretended that she was not in the least affected by his presence.

“It’s just so lovely out here,” she whispered, almost wishfully. Then she realized that she was not supposed to let onto any of her real self to the world, mentally scolding herself for the moment of respite.

“I’m glad you like it, Miss …?”

Oh hell! He was asking her name? He did not know her!?!  This had never happened to her before since she was always recognized as a celebrity from afar. She decided to take advantage of the situation; now was her time to be herself.

“You can call me Dem,” she smiled, trying to ignore the way her heart was beating. She was still in the shadows and maybe that was why he could not recognize her. He was at her party, so there was no way he could not know who she was.

“I’m Chase. Chase Landon,” he introduced himself, approaching her, his face gleaming under the moonlight and in that instant, she could discern every little detail of him. She swore that it was the happiest moment of her life. Everything faded in the background as she stared at the most beautiful eyes she’d ever seen, a pair of piercing blue color shining around a light grey rim around the pupils. Endorsed with strong arched brows and eyelashes so thick that it should have looked ridiculous in a man but made him captivating instead. All of it was framed by thick, warm dark chocolate curls, his tight jaw was an angular shape that was filled with little stubbles, so perfectly masculine was the effect that Dem stood mesmerized.

Then she frowned. What if it was a trap?

“I have never seen you around before,” she improvised haughtily. Surely, he would not be able to guess that she was unable to recognize people from her very own party.

He shrugged. “We’ve just moved to the city. My folks are living next door to yours,” he indicated with his head in the right direction as if showing her where he lived. There was a rough edge about him; something which she could not get hold of. Yet. She somehow knew he was nothing like the polished spoilt brats she was used to. Then suddenly it clicked.

“Are you the new-money who have recently arrived in the city?” she asked unable to keep the antagonism out of her voice. Unfortunately, she knew the type too well. Too desperate to be accepted in the society. Therefore, too ready to compromise on their modest values and adapt to the newly defined, artificial world.

She knew the exact moment he picked up the barbed vibe in her voice. The change in him was phenomenal; his back went ramrod straight, his eyes turned completely blue, and the look he gave her could freeze hell. She felt like she wanted to weep at the loss of his initial warmth. It was like the clouds had chased the sunshine away from her life.

Except, she was made of much sterner stuff. Had to be if she wanted to survive in the fickle environment her parents had built around her. Nothing about her mattered; what mattered was who she was supposed to be. She was supposed to be a perfect princess with impeccable manners.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way,” she apologized instantly plastering a fake smile on her face. She was so used to smiling when she had no intention to, that it had almost become a reflex to her. She had no idea how artificial she had become until he leaned closer to her. She got a better look of the two chips of ice facing her and tried not to flinch at the deadpan expression she saw there.

“Miss Demetria Hilton isn’t it?” he sneered, putting emphasis on her first name to demonstrate that he had finally worked out who she was. Apparently, even he could put two and two together – inexorably coming up with five. She found herself envying his ability to let free his emotions even if it was contempt. Pure, unfettered contempt.

“Please do not try to make amends about what you think. At least not if you don’t mean it.”

She couldn’t help it; she flinched at his discovery of her treachery and cringed at his ability to make her feel like a cheat. Then as his next words registered, she was too mortified to defend herself.

“You must consider yourself above everybody else because you have been born rich but in a few years’ time, it wouldn’t even matter. All that matters is the money,” he quipped with an inferred southerner accent before disappearing in the darkness.

Stunned, she remained immobile, paralyzed by his assumption that she was too much of a snob to welcome him because he had recently acquired wealth. Wealth did not matter. It was too insignificant to her. What mattered was the fact that he kept his integrity and survived in the cruel rich world.