Chapter Three: Meet Again

Godric's POV

From the moment we collided to the unending agony of listening to her narrative, something stirred in my heart.

Not the usual resentment I feel towards women trying to suck up, coy on purpose. Not even the disgust I feel at the falsity of feminine weakness.

She was different.

In a way that made me listen quietly, and hold her in my thoughts longer than I should have.

Then she spoke about devotion.

The one thing I never thought a woman could give a man in the absence of his money. Something my mother could never give my father, even with all the money in the world at her feet.

She had given it to a man unworthy of her. Unworthy of it.

The muscles around my chest tightened, a burning rage flowing with the blood in my veins. And a sudden yearning gripped me.

To hold her. To heal her.

But something told me she would be scared away, and I was right.

Walking away from her felt like finding and losing at the same time. I had finally found something so beautiful... so priceless... so complete. Yet I had to walk away feeling emptier than before.

I had my secretary take care of the adoption process, while I buried myself in thousands of pages of paperwork and stacks of folders.

I went over my schedule and told her to bring all the business trips and meetings closer, until there was nothing left except sleeping hours.

I had just landed in Abu Dhabi when I got a call from Victor. I completely forgot I had him take the boy to his place.

“You know you're a father now,” he scolded.

I chuckled. I liked the ring of that in my ears, but I couldn't breathe without difficulty. The boy will always remind me of her, yet I had to treat him as her dying wish.

“Please, take care of him until I return...”

“You promised you wouldn't suck like your parents, remember?”

“Get off my phone, idiot. I will be back by month end. I have a lot to handle,” I said and hung up. My smile quickly faded as the call ended. I got into the limo on standby, and half an hour later, I arrived at the conference room.

“Let's begin, please.” I went straight to the point, my eyes following the PowerPoint presentation diligently. I couldn't afford to take my eyes off the screen for a moment.

I approved the budget after cutting it almost in half. The second I left the room, I heard the people inside let out a deep breath.

“How's the charity coming along?”

My secretary hurried behind me, her explanation detailed as always. “Over two hundred people turned up. Fifty billion was realized. Currently, it's being sent across countries to help the fight against cancer and make treatments more affordable.”

I nodded, increasing my pace. The faster I brief the press, the better for my heart.

Once I was done with the press briefing, I joined a live interview from my hotel room.

Midway, the host asked me about my partner.

I gulped.

“Come on, Mr. Banks. Everyone has been waiting patiently. Who are you going to make the lucky one?”

I paused and inhaled deeply. “I think I was the lucky one.”

“So, she's already in the picture?”

I found myself smiling more, laughing naturally. It felt different. In a good way.

“Is there something we should know? Indulge us, please.”

A faint smile made my lips curve. And one thought crossed my mind. “We have a son.”

At the end of the interview, I lay back on the bed, and for the first time, the bedroom felt bigger, emptier, lonelier.

The space on the other side of the bed was cold. I imagined her beside me. Sleeping.

I had not asked Victor how the procedure went. I hoped it was painless for her. I hoped death was gentler, as she imagined it would be.

Two days later, I left the UAE, and before landing back in New York, I had my lawyer contact Miss Emilia Thompson, my childhood friend. If there's anyone I should settle down with, it should be her.

But upon my arrival, I received a call from our family lawyer. Emilia was already in New York.

I sighed, like it was a burdensome journey I would have to make eventually. “Miss Lee, please, contact her, get the Banks hotel in the city to make a reservation. Make it perfect. You should know what any woman would want,” I paused before strutting away.

By evening of the next day, I was staring down at the auburn hair, porcelain skin and picture-perfect image of the girl my father had suggested I should wed.

I glanced at the ring in my hand, and Celeste's face appeared before me. I slipped the ring back into my pocket and walked down the stairs to meet her.

“Godric! Oh my god! I can't believe it's really you.” She stood up and leaned over to peck me. It was brief and our skin barely brushed.

She laughed easily. Effortlessly. Yet, gracefully. Her laughter sounded refined and melodious, but it didn't sound like the beauty that came with Celeste's disarming voice and enchanting smile.

I crossed my legs, hoping not to drift from our conversation.

“What brings you to New York?” I asked, not out of curiosity, but just for the flow of conversation.

She paused. That hesitation, however negligible, and the stutter that followed was all I needed to know what she was holding back.

“I love fashion, and New York answers with the best coaches,” she said with an elaborate smile.

I took a moment to think it through. “What if I asked you to return to GoldenCity? Of course, with your coach? Would you come with me?”

Her eyes lit up. She clasped her hands, elbows on the table. “If you command it, your highness.”

I smiled, but my heart sank, emptier than when I showed up here.

“So, when is it going to be?” She asked, excited.

“Patience, lady. Have a little patience,” I said and she giggled and concentrated on her food, asking one or two questions between bites. I got up from the table at the end and saw her off to where her car was parked outside.

“I will inform you when I'm ready to have you there.”

“We could just return together,” she cut in, impatiently.

I gave it a thought and nodded. “That could work, provided you won't be offended I didn't prepare a place for you to stay.”

“Come on, we have always been like family.”

I waited until she was gone before I called my personal butler. “Sorry if I woke you up. I need a favour. Kindly check for any duplex on sale, and get it.

It shouldn't be too far away from the house. And not too close either. Make sure it's secure too.”

“I will have it ready by tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” I responded and ended the call. I'm not certain I'm ready to breathe under the same roof with a woman.

I tidied up everything and concluded the meetings before I texted Emilia our departure details.

I would hate anyone arriving even a minute late.

On the day of departure, I walked towards the jet wearing loose pants and a colorful shirt my secretary had added to my luggage the second she knew we would stop in Paris.

But I couldn't make it in person. And neither could she. Wearing it was just a thank you for the thoughtfulness.

I had some suits ready just in case I needed to join a meeting once I landed. I was going over the schedule when Miss Lee motioned to a scene playing out ahead in the jet. I stopped, lips pursed at the way her forehead wrinkled in subtle displeasure.

Emilia looked up and waved at me. I greeted her with a smile and turned back to my secretary. “That is Emilia Thompson. I'm aware you haven't met her in person.”

“She shouldn't have brought her lover here,” she mumbled, shifting her attention to the pilot.

I walked over to Emilia and she rose to embrace me. “Meet my coach,” she said, pointing at a man with Harry Potter glasses. Not sure if it's medicated glasses. I can only guess he is hiding behind those glasses.

“My name is Lawrence Golden.”

I hummed a reply and shifted my attention to Emilia. The flight landed right on time, by half past two in the afternoon. I inhaled deeply, hands dipped in my pockets. Miss Lee walked over the second Emilia wrapped her hands around my left arm and placed my sunshade on. “Thank you.”

“She's diligent,” Emilia commented, but Lee just grunted. I smiled inwardly, making a beeline to where I knew Victor would be waiting for me.

I wouldn't be surprised if he brought the boy along. “Join the limo, please. I will find Victor.”

“You both haven't changed at all.”

I forced a smile, and Miss Lee stepped up. “I'm coming with you.”

“We could all join Victor then. I don't mind,” Emilia suggested.

Miss Lee rolled her eyes. With a disgruntled look, I turned to meet Victor waving at me. Just like I anticipated, the boy was right beside him.

And so was Celeste.

Lips apart, heart hammering against my ribs, I took a flight to her, taking the sunshade off. “How have you... ahhh.”

My lips sealed hers, shutting out the casual question. My hands slithered around her waist, my tongue digging deep to connect to her very soul.

“O-kay. Ummm... I have a kid here in case you both forgot,” Victor said and took the boy's hand in his, stooping to whisper to him. He chuckled happily. Celeste's face flushed and she lowered her eyes. “You came back to me.”

“I came back for him,” she protested, looking away. A smirk formed on my lips. That moment we kissed will live rent-free in my head. “If you say so... please, I would like you to meet Miss Mary Lee, my secretary. Miss Emilia Thompson, my childhood friend. And her coach...”

“Lawrence West.” Her jaw dropped with a gasp.