The Art of Wedding a Greek Billionaire (17 page)

As if responding to his words, Mairi’s inner muscles locked more tightly around his cock. The sensation was pure pleasure, sharpened to the point of pain, and Damen’s mind shut down. “
Mairi.
” His fingers found her clitoris, and as his cock took full control, he squeezed the sensitive pearl of flesh, again and again.
 

Mairi’s world spun out of control at Damen’s touch, and she shattered around him with a scream, her cries of pleasure mingling with Damen’s more guttural groans as his fucking became wild and raw, his powerful hips slamming into her hard in an endless cycle of possession.

“Mine,” Damen growled even as his body couldn’t get enough of her, couldn’t stop conquering her with his cock over and over. “Mine, always mine.”

Tears fell down her cheeks as Mairi wrapped her arms around his neck, hiding her face against his shoulder as she whispered, “Yours.” She welcomed his every possession, wanting to be conquered because she knew this was the last time she could be Damen’s. More tears fell, fast and furious, like raindrops of a dying storm, and tightening her arms around him, she whispered, “Always yours. Always.”

****

At eight in the morning, police officers escorted Yehor Kokinos out of his own office. His hands remained unrestrained out of respect for his age and position, but even so every employee in his company knew what was happening. People always knew what an arrest was when they saw one, with or without the cuffs.

“You’re making a mistake,” Yehor said between clenched teeth, but the officers flanking his sides did not respond. When they stepped out of his company’s fifty-story building, Yehor froze at the top of the stairs.
 

Standing next to the police car was a tall, dark-haired man Yehor had thought dead for many years.

Obviously, he had thought wrong. And just as obviously, Damen Leventis was the cause of this.

Teeth flashed in a predatory smile, and Yehor swallowed in fear at the sight of it.
 

“Good morning, Uncle.” The voice was cultured but without any trace of accent, power and strength honed in places that would never have names because only the dead were supposed to know about them.
 

His name was Acheron, and he was the real heir of the Kokinos fortune.

****

At nine in the morning, Esther Leventis walked inside the courtroom, her face expressionless, her back straight, as she claimed the seat next to her solicitor. She was dressed in an expensive white suit, with a rope of pearls around her neck. No one looking at her would have known that Esther was suffocating inside, the feeling of being strangled by an invisible noose never leaving her since her offer of a truce had been rejected by Damen.

Noting the vacant seats where Yehor Kokinos’ own legal team were supposed to sit, she turned to her lawyer, asking in a low voice, “Where are the Kokinos?”

“You don’t know?” Her lawyer shook his head, a harassed expression on his face. “He’s being interrogated by the police. I heard the IMF is also involved. It appears he was not the sole heir when his old man died.”

The invisible noose around her neck tightened by a fraction of an inch, and it took Esther a moment before she could speak. “What does that mean for us?”
 

“It means possible defeat if we cannot convince the judge that our claim against your son is valid. The judge can call for a vote if he considers your claim questionable. Without Yehor Kokinos’ presence, you would need the entire board to vote to keep you CEO.”

Her frustration subsided at the lawyer’s explanation. She was so giddy with relief she even managed a laugh, the sound drawing the attention of the other people inside the courtroom. “Then this whole thing is over before it’s even started. If Damen thinks he can defeat me by finding some dirt in Yehor’s closet, he doesn’t know me very well. I’ve fired every board member who might side against me in this. Every seat in the board is now under my control.”

Her son had to be taught a lesson. After today, she would make sure to take everything from him.
Since he was so stupidly in love with the slut
, Esther thought vindictively,
then let’s see if he could survive and exist on love alone.
 

Chapter Fourteen

She said: To wed a Greek billionaire is to live a life free of doubt.

He said: Are you saying you believe in me completely?

She said: Oh yes!

He said: Do you believe me when I tell you I am going to have you naked and moaning my name in ten seconds?

(Editor’s Note: It was actually just seven. I can run fast if I have to.)

A pair of oversized aviator glasses became Mairi’s shield as she placed her hand in Damen’s and allowed him to help her out of the car. Mairi had been okay with taking a cab, but Damen had insisted they use the car Stavros had loaned to them. He did not want to risk having his pregnant wife stranded if ever any kind of tussle erupted at the courtroom.

Knowing that every little thing mattered in today’s battle, Mairi had made sure that she dressed strategically for the occasion. Her dress, with its high neckline, three-fourth sleeves, and slightly loose fit ensured that she was the picture of propriety. She did not want anyone in the court to ever remember that she had once been branded as the most infamous mistress in Europe, a modern-day Mata Hari who had ensnared every Greek billionaire in the globe.

“Your hand’s too cold,” Damen noted tightly with a frown.

“It’s because I’m nervous, not dying,” she murmured under her breath as they went past the revolving doors, preceded by Drake’s intimidating-looking security team while the ex-sniper walked a few steps behind them.
 

When they reached the courtroom assigned to their hearing, Damen slowed to a stop before the doors.

She looked up at Damen, confused. “What is it?”

“Tell me you believe me.”

She didn’t hesitate. “I do.”

He inhaled deeply, the words giving him more strength than he expected. “I promise you, I’ll fight for our future, sweetheart. I’ll do everything I can to take back our child’s legacy.” He stopped, and as the silence lengthened between them, Damen realized that he wanted to hear Mairi say that she wouldn’t leave him…no matter what.

Words so foolish she couldn’t bear to think of them tried to rush out of her throat, but Mairi determinedly forced them down. She wanted so badly to touch Damen’s face, to tell him that she would be his strength, his shield, his everything. But she could no longer be that. She now had her baby to think of, and it was for their baby’s sake that she had to kill this love for him once and for all.

“I believe in you, Damen.” The whispered words were all she could afford. They were the truth, too, even if it also meant she was weak and silly. Stupid Mairi, never ever learning, never ever losing her faith in Damen no matter how many times he had hurt her.
 

Even if the absence of love in her words made Damen feel physically sick, he clung to the hope that came with Mairi’s avowal of trust.
Something
, he reminded himself doggedly,
was always better than nothing
. Something meant he could hope that one day Mairi would not need Drake Morrison to stop Damen from ever reaching her heart.
 

Damen opened the door and waited for Mairi to follow him.

“Damen?”

He turned.

“Do you trust me, too?”

His answer was unequivocal. “With my life.”

A tremulous smile formed on her lips. “Then will you trust me when I tell you that there’s something I have to do out here? I won’t be of much help for you inside, but here…”

Damen’s gaze flew to the swarm of reporters and photographers behind Mairi. “The media?”

She shook her head. “No. Not them exactly. I’ve thought about this for a long time, Damen. I know the day that all your peers will accept me may never come. I thought I should change myself to make it happen, but that’s just going to make things worse. I want to help you, Damen, while still being myself.” Mairi stopped with bated breath, wondering what Damen would have to say after her spontaneous speech. When no words appeared forthcoming, Mairi forced herself to meet her husband’s gaze.

When she did, that was when he spoke. “I’ve learned my lesson, Mairi. I’m no longer afraid, I’m no longer a coward. Nothing I do in this lifetime will make me worthy of having you as my wife, but I’ll do everything I can to make me deserving you anyway.” His lips twisted. “If I wasn’t so selfish, I’d tell you to aim higher. You don’t deserve a billionaire,
matakia mou.
You deserve a trillionaire.”

Rough sincerity underlined each word, every syllable that fell from his lips heard by the crowd because Damen had made no effort to keep his voice from being heard.
 

Laughter and applause erupted from the crowd at Damen’s sardonic humor, and she smiled even as she blinked furiously to keep herself from shedding tears. Coming from the man who had once said that she was not a real lady – the same man who had once accused her of being a gold digger - those words were the ultimate apology.
 

Knowing Damen would need to see her strong and smiling before he entered the courtroom, Mairi smiled. Smiling as widely as she could, to the point that her lips felt stretched beyond the breaking point, she said gravely, “Trillionaires are too poor for me now. Personally, I’d aim for a bazillionaire.” She pointed to the doors behind Damen. “So if you want to keep me as your super beautiful and sexy wife, go win this case and add fifty zeroes to your bank balance.”

The smile he gave her was full of arrogance. It was Damen Leventis,
the
Greek billionaire at his finest, and she could have wept at the sight of it.

He turned around, and just when she thought he’d be entering the courtroom without another word, he said over his shoulder, “Fifty,
matakia mou?
You truly wound me. A hundred would be more like it if you believe in me.”

The doors closed behind him, the sound of Mairi’s choked laughter a treasure he tucked away in his memory like a lucky charm.

Outside the courtroom, Drake stepped close to Mairi. “What do you plan to do now?”

“I’m going to talk to the press.”

Drake raised a brow. “I thought your plan had nothing to do with the media.”

“It doesn’t. But I need them to reach the people I really want to talk to. I may not ever have the power to win the support of Damen’s peers the way someone like Alina Kokinos can,” Mairi conceded painfully, “But there are other people involved in this case, and those are
my
people.”

****

“Thank you for all your help, Stavros,” Damen said as he shook hands with the other man, who occupied the first row bench behind Damen’s all on his own with the exception of one bodyguard seated at each end. The men were dressed completely in black, and the forbidding expressions on their faces were enough to prevent anyone from sitting next to their employer.

Stavros waited for Damen to take the seat between his lawyers before leaning forward to speak. “Congratulations on the Kokinos takedown.”

“It wasn’t me at all, to be honest. It was all Morrison’s work.”

After a beat, Stavros asked, “Restitution after what he did to you?”

“After what he did to
Mairi
.”

With Damen facing the crowd, he was able to spot Willow the moment she entered the courtroom. He gestured for her to come forward, and as expected, the young woman did not appear cowed in any way at the sight of Stavros’ bodyguards as she muttered “excuse me” absently before plopping down next to Stavros.

“Give me a really good show please,” Willow said right away, her gaze fixed on Damen and appearing not to notice the sophisticated and extremely handsome man seated next to her.

Damen said solemnly, “I’ll do my best.” He turned to Stavros, whose face was, also as expected, inscrutable. “Stavros, I’d like you to meet my editor, Willow Somerset. Willow, this is my good friend Stavros Manolis.”

Willow gaped, no doubt having recognized the name from his manuscript.

Stavros only lifted one elegant brow, his tone mild as he asked, “Editor?”

Damen only smiled. “You’ll know tonight what it’s for.” And then there was no time to talk, with the hearing officially starting.

Esther’s legal team sprung no surprise of any kind as they presented the same set of evidence to the judge. It was disappointing, if Damen were to be honest, because like Willow, he had hoped the hearing would be explosive. He had prepared for this battle with laser focus, but he was not the kind of man who took pleasure in crushing an enemy that was so obviously weaker it was pathetic.