Home > The Art of Wedding a Greek Billionaire(18)

The Art of Wedding a Greek Billionaire(18)
Author: Marian Tee

She said: To wed a Greek billionaire, you must exercise control over exploiting his One True Weakness when you feel hurt.

He said: What is it with you and Lord of the Rings…my precious?

She said: And that’s it.

He said: That’s what?

She said: Your weakness. Me. Your precious.

He said: (Pause) Ah, matakia mou. You turn me on when you get cocky like that.

Mairi knew the exact moment Damen received one of those “calls”. It had been two months since they had tried to gatecrash Nelson Athanas’ birthday party and by now, she was an expert at figuring out when Damen was really talking to a business associate or friend and when Damen was…not.

Right now was one of those times he was not.

Even though he stood right next to her, looking immaculately polished in an all-white golf tee and pants, his arm around her waist, Mairi knew that he really wasn’t there. Right now, his whole world was centered on the phone vibrating insistently inside his pants’ pocket.

If I were Damen’s mistress, I wouldn’t be so selfish that I’d call him while he’s at a very important function. A hysterical laugh tried to bubble out of her. The thought would have made Mairi feel infinitely better if only she didn’t know how pathetic she was being. She was his wife, for heaven’s sake, and yet here she was, mentally competing with another woman.

“Mrs. Leventis, how about a picture?” A fresh-faced photographer came to her with a hopeful look on his face. He was one of the many, with the media coming in droves to attend the launch of the golf tournament, an annual fundraiser held by Mykolas Sallis, the Greek billionaire her friend Velvet married after a controversial whirlwind romance.

Held at Athens’ most prestigious country club, the event always commanded a huge turnout, and this year was no different. It provided Mykolas with the perfect opportunity to announce his intention to put up a joint venture with Damen, a red herring meant to have all eyes on Mykolas while Damen worked behind the scenes with his enemies’ enemies.

So far, the distraction was a huge success. If only, Mairi thought, she could be just as successful in distracting Damen from Alina Kokinos.

Her gaze returned to her husband, who was now reaching for his phone. In the act of telling the photographer to wait so she could call Damen to her side, Mairi instead gestured towards Drake. The other man stood a few feet away from her, his good looks and quietly commanding presence having caused quite a stir among the event’s female guests.

Catching sight of Mairi’s look, Drake swiftly made his way to her. “What is it?”

Mairi pointed to Drake. “How about taking a photo of me and the bodyguard instead?”

The photographer’s eyes widened. “The b-bodyguard?”

From the corner of her eye, Mairi saw Damen answer his call. She flashed the photographer a wider smile. “Yup.”

Absently looking up when his wife walked away from him, Damen cursed silently at the sight of Mairi about to strike a pose beside Drake Morrison for a picture. The other man’s all-black outfit complemented Mairi’s all-white collared shirt and short pleated skirt. They looked damn good together, and the thought had his lips clamping in a thin line.

To him, Mairi was easily the most beautiful girl in the room. Damen could not be any prouder of the fact that she belonged to him. Unfortunately, his wife seemed to have a tendency of forgetting the same fact.

Not taking his gaze off Mairi and doing his best not to bristle at Drake’s proximity to her, Damen muttered, “I need to go. I’ll call you later. This is really not a good time at all.”

An anxious sigh came from the other end of the line. “It’s always not a good time.”

Damen winced. “I know, but I promise I’ll make time for you tomorrow.” Shoving his phone back into his pocket, Damen strode forward and tapped Drake from behind. “Thank you for your assistance, but I can take it from here.” His voice was pleasant, but his smile was cold.

Drake nodded, a deferential look falling on his face like someone who had received his orders. But when he walked past Mairi’s husband, he murmured, “Do not blame me when you’re the one neglecting your wife.”

Damen’s nostrils flared and he had to consciously hold himself back from answering. He would have taken a swing at the other man if he was not aware of the fact that practically everyone in today’s event still thought of him as someone made crazy and irresponsible by his “uncontrollable” libido.

Taking his place next to Mairi, Damen pulled his wife close to his side. He expected her to resist a little, but she didn’t. Smiling for the photographer, he bent down to say silkily in her ear, “You seem to have forgotten who you’re supposed to have your photos with, darling.”

Mairi waited for the photographer to take his first shot before looking up at Damen. Tension was evident on his face, making her reach up to caress his cheek. “Sorry,” she said penitently. Now that she had her husband’s complete attention, her resentment disappeared, along with the need to flirt with Drake.

The apology had Damen shooting a brooding look at his wife, whose moods as of late were unpredictable as hell. One moment she was acting like the perfect wife, the next moment she was acting like she couldn’t wait to leave him for Drake.

It was as if she was constantly trying to pick a fight with him, hoping he would one day tire of holding on to her.

But surely she had to know that that day would never come?

“Could you turn to your side, Mr. Leventis, and face your wife?” the photographer asked even as his finger continued hitting the shutter button.

Damen shifted sideways, and as his gaze took in Mairi’s profile, he couldn’t help noticing how she seemed to get lovelier each day. She was practically glowing. It should have been a good thing, if only a part of him didn’t think his wife’s blossoming looks had nothing to do with him at all.

Mairi tried not to fidget as she felt Damen’s hooded gaze linger on her. She tried not to think of what his thoughts were either. If she did, she had a feeling she would just get depressed.

How long, Mairi asked herself silently, would she be able to survive this kind of marriage? Every night, Damen would tell her he loved her. But not once…not one damn instance could Mairi make herself believe him.

If only she could turn back time and be the same starry-eyed girl who had innocently dreamed of marrying a Greek billionaire. But she wasn’t that girl anymore, and she didn’t think she ever could be again.

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