Caged (How Not To Be Seduced by Billionaires: Book 3) (17 page)

 

Constantijin
wasn't
saying anything wrong. In fact, he wasn't even saying anything I hadn't heard before. Constantijin was the type who dished out compliments all the time. He told his sixty-something housekeeper she was beautiful all the time. He complimented the shy receptionist at the lobby all the time, telling her she had great taste in clothes, that her hair was pretty.

 

He was that kind of man, and none of it used to matter.

 

Until now.

 

This time, his words sounded different, and my chest slowly started to ache.

 

"How are you and Yanna?"

 

Damn her, goddamn her for asking!

 

There was a moment for silence before Constantijin replied, a bit flatly, “We are okay.”

 

            Ha! Take that, Arian!

 

            Granted, it wasn’t the best thing to say about a relationship, but “okay” was still better than “not okay”.

 

            Constantijin continued, “We enjoy each other's company, that's all."

 

"You mean you love each other," Arian teased.

 

Damn her. Goddamn her. I so knew what she was after and it was my blood – my blood, which was, like, already flooding the entire floor in an invisible stream of heartbreak.

 

I hurt so much I thought my heart couldn’t bleed any more, but Constantijin proved me wrong with just one word. “No.” And as if that didn’t hurt enough, he said lightly, “Yanna’s known since day one it was never about that."

 

I covered my mouth before they could hear me gasp.

 

Constantijin’s voice took in a warm, seductive tone. “But who knows? Maybe someone like you could change my mind."

 

Arian didn't get to answer that anymore because by then, I had gone around the corner. “What the fuck did you say?”

 

 

 

Lesson #13

 

Your billionaire will be very good at making you cry,

 

in more ways than one.

 

 

 

Arian was shocked. Then her eyes gleamed with smug malice, even though she did her best to hide it by letting out a fake moan of horror. Honestly, I couldn’t, like, care less about her.

 

            What really, really hurt was the lack of surprise on Constantijin’s face, as if he had wanted this all along.

 

When neither of them answered, I shrieked again, “What the fuck did you just say to her, Constantijin?”

 

            His name seemed to be the magic word everyone was waiting for. Doors started opening at the same time, heads bobbing in and out as they tried not to so obviously watch the show.

 

            Arian shook her head in shame sympathy. “Oh, Yanna, you weren't supposed to--”

 

Irritated by the mere sound of her voice, I took a deep breath, glanced at Arian, and gave her the finger. I heard choked laughter behind me. Arian started for me, but suddenly Drake was there, gripping her by the shoulders. He whispered something into her ear, and Arian whitened before stalking off.

 

A chilly mask had slipped over Constantijin’s face. “That was uncalled for, Yanna.”

 

In the act of giving Drake a grateful smile, I whirled back to Constantijin when I realized what he had just said. “
Did you just, like, side with her
?” Even though my voice was starting to hurt my own ears, I couldn’t stop shrieking. I just couldn’t.

 

“This is
not
the place.” The look of contempt that accompanied his words hurt.

 

I knew he was right. Of course I, like, fucking knew that. But let him tell that to my heart – my super bleeding-to-death-heart and, damn them, I wasn’t even exaggerating.

 

It was a struggle not to cry as I spoke but I managed to keep the tears from falling. “Why did you even have to say t-those words?”

 

            Constantijin thankfully didn’t try to pretend he had no idea what I was talking about. “It was a fucking joke. And yes, I admit it was a stupid one, but it was a joke.”

 

"Jokes are half-meant," I cried out.

 

            Constantijin spat something out in Dutch before saying tiredly, “For pity’s sake, don't start on me with that.”

 

And that was what did it, that final kick Alyx told me I was in the habit of waiting for before I could make myself…give up.

 

He sounded
tired
.

 

He made it sound I was, like, this fucking burden to him and I hadn't even known it. How sad was that? How humiliating? All this time, I had been wrong. I thought he didn’t want me to love him because it made him aware of how much he loved me back, of how much like his dad he could be if he let himself love me.

 

But it wasn’t like that.

 

He hadn’t said he loved me because he was exactly like his dad. He was too nice to kick me out, yet I had been too stupid to notice. I kept pushing him until – he felt trapped. By me.

 

“I’m sorry,” I said dully.

 

I walked past Constantijin, and I almost stumbled at the pain as I did.

 

Drake called my name as I reached the doors. “Yanna---”

 

            Humiliation, complete and excruciating, flayed my entire being when I realized that he probably heard and seen everything. Stupid Yanna, of course he would have. “Please, Drake," I whispered. "Don’t tell my parents about this.”

 

            “I won’t.”

 

            When he started to speak, I shook my head, knowing that he wanted to be my Mr. Fix It again. But it just wasn’t the right time. “I just need to be alone.”

 

I walked out of the office, the building, the first step to walking out of the fucking mess I had created because I didn’t know when to cut my losses. I started to cry when I reached the bus station, and I cried harder when I got on the bus and realized I had absolutely no money with me. Turning to the guy waiting in line at my back, I sobbed out, “C-could I b-borrow some money? I p-promise to p-pay you---”

 

He hastily gave me a twenty. “No need to pay me.”

 

He looked scared of me. Maybe he thought I was crazy, and it made me cry harder for some reason. “T-thanks,” I sniffed as I shakily handed the bus driver my fare.

 

When I got home I wanted to burst into tears again.

 

I didn’t even have keys to Constantijin’s pad either!

 

Walking back to reception, I sobbed out to the old man behind the counter, “C-could I, like, borrow your spare key to our unit?” God, I was so miserable I was talking like a ditz to
everyone
!

 

Like the guy at the bus, the concierge was just as quick in giving me his spare set of keys. I guess men were really that allergic to a woman’s tears. Somehow, this thought also made me cry more and I sobbed all the way up to the elevator.

 

It felt good to cry. It really did, and I let it all out when I reached the room Constantijin shared with me. It didn’t feel right at all to call it ours now. After throwing all the clothes my suitcase could handle, I struggled to zip it closed. The door crashed open just as I dragged it off the bed.

 

Constantijin appeared unkempt, which was a rare sight. In fact, it was the very first time I saw him like this, like he had run straight into a hurricane to get here. For a moment, I could only stare at him in shock.

 

Constantijin Kastein was like Martha Stewart – the six-foot-plus gorgeous male version, that is. You just never caught him looking less than perfect. Until now.

 

“What are you doing?” he asked hoarsely.

 

Wasn’t it obvious? I wanted to say the words, but I just didn’t have that much energy. What little I had left needed to be expended on getting the handle of my luggage extended out.

 

He crossed the room, reaching out to me with one hand. “Yanna---”

 

And that was when I lost it.

 

I slapped him.

 

Constantijin and I stared at each other, and I didn’t know who was more shocked between us.

 

"Oh God, I'm sorry," I whispered, staring at my hands, aghast at what I just did. I slapped him a lot of times before this, but those were...accidental. This one
wasn't
. It wasn’t like me to deliberately slap someone. Flipping someone the finger had been the rudest thing I had done in my life and yet here I was, slapping someone...and actually feeling good about it. This just wasn’t me – and it made me remember of the many times I kept thinking how I was never like myself when I was with him.

 

But not anymore, I thought to myself. Not when it was over between us. The thought almost sent me to my knees.

 

“I’m sorry,” I said again even as I refocused on yanking the luggage handle out.

 

 "I deserve it." Constantijin's voice was strained.

 

I pretended not to hear that. He shouldn't be saying that, not after everything.

 

He reached out for me again. This time I only tried to struggle, but this time he also didn’t let go, forcing me to turn around and look into his bleak silver eyes.

 

"Just stop---just stop saying I love you," he told me in a raw voice. "We'd go back to how we were in the past, just stop saying it! I don't even get why you have to say it. If you love me, fine. But you don't need to say it. I never asked you to."

 

My entire body jerked at his words.

 

Constantijin looked like he wanted to take the words back. "Dammit, I shouldn't have said it like that---"

 

"No, you said it honestly," I managed to counter dully. I just wanted him to go away right now. I wanted everything to go away and just sleep. "You're right. You never asked me to say the words but I said it all the same." I swallowed. "But Constantijin, if you didn't like hearing it, why just not tell me directly? Why did you have to try hurting me and driving me away?"

 

Because maybe---maybe if he had explained then I wouldn't have been so stubborn.

 

But now it was too late.

 

Constantijin didn't answer. Instead, all he said was, "Let’s just think things clearly---"

 

"No."

 

Constantijin's face whitened. "Yanna---" His voice shook. "Don't do this."

 

"I'm leaving." I said it more for myself.

 

Just one more time
. Hadn’t I promised that to Alex?

 

I gave him another chance, but he had hurt me again. So I had to keep my promise.

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