The Billionaire's Maid in Disguise

Thirteen - "The more pain, the more satisfying."

He licked the side of his lips, making me freeze for the moment. The slow action was very sensual and captivating, it made my mouth water.

"I have to go back to work. Thank you for joining me for dinner, Miss Rosi. The food was delicious, and I enjoyed our chat," he said, while I was still there, staring at him, not yet fully recovered from seeing his sexy tongue.

"Um...Thank you also, sir. I enjoyed the meal."

Later, back at the servant's hall, Jean was so happy that the master ate dinner and enjoyed her delicious beef steak.

Kristov's POV

I visited my Grandma Mary at the Golden House. She was Mom's mother, eighty year old, and still very active.

The Golden House was a home for the aged that I built for her. She invited her old relatives and friends to live with her. She had managers and staff, including health care providers that helped her run the place.

She hugged me, the moment we saw each other. Her eyes lit up seeing the beautiful roses that I bought for her.

"You look very haggard, nothing changed in the past nine years," she said when we were seated in her dainty living room, "I don't have to ask if you sleep last night, you surely did not."

"That was not easy to forget."

"Of course, that was traumatic, but you have to move on. You can't be like this forever, Kristov. You're destroying yourself."

"I wish I could do that with just a snap of my fingers. But it keeps on haunting me."

"Because you blame yourself," she let out a frustrating sigh, "it's not your fault, and nobody's blaming you. Your Mom and Anton won't be happy seeing you miserable."

She did not know the whole story, especially the things that I heard from dad, at the scene of the accident, and the truth that came out after.

"Have you eaten breakfast?"

"No," I replied, then saw her disappointed expression, "I'm still full from last night. I had a big meal," I touched her small shoulder, massaging it a little.

Her face brightened, "if that's the truth, I'm happy that you did. You can't keep on punishing yourself, my dear. It breaks my heart seeing you like this, always so sad and lonely."

"Not always. I'm happy when I'm working."

"Because it occupies your mind. It's not real happiness," she complained, "I wish you'll find someone who can light your life up, and make you complete again. I miss the happy go-lucky Kristov, whose smile always reached your eyes."

"I'm cursed, grandma, for being bad. I'm paying for my sins."

"That's bullshit, Kristov, don't ever say that," she rolled her eyes, raising her hands heavenward.

"It's the truth, I won't be happy ever."

"Of course you will. You're still twenty seven, so young. There's a fruitful life ahead of you," she clicked her tongue, "I keep on praying for you, that you'll find the love of your life. A woman who will fill your empty heart. She will make you laugh, jump for joy, and wake up with a smile on your face."

"She's probably not born yet, Grandma," I chuckled, "if she is, she's already married with five kids."

"Stay positive, dear. Maybe she's just in the corner, just waiting for you to notice her."

"I doubt it."

I felt a bit lighter seeing my grandpa. But the ill-feeling was back again the moment I entered the cemetery.

Clara Stavrakos and Anton Stavrakos.

I did not know how many hours I was there, standing in front of the two tombs, staring at their names. Nine years had passed but it felt like it happened yesterday. The memory was still vivid in my mind.

My conscience was killing me, that I wanted to die too.

It was my fault. If I did not join the Art Painting competition, they were still alive. Life would be different. Happier and fulfilling.

My heart aches so bad, thinking about it. Every waking moment, especially every night before I sleep. I wished I had the power to turn back the clock and change the past.

I grew up being an art enthusiast, especially painting. But because of it, I lost my loved ones. It made my life so miserable.

Now, the sight of an art painting made me furious. I did not want any of it inside my house, my building, especially inside my office.

"Sir, we've been here for six hours, and it's going to rain. Should we go now?" Jack said, behind me.

"In a while."

It was pouring so hard when I left the cemetery. I went inside the back of my car, cold, shivering, and crying my heart out.

I arrived home, took a hot shower and went to bed. I was feeling feverish. My head was aching so bad like it was going to explode. My body was sore, every muscle felt stiff and painful. My limbs were like jelly, and did not have the strength to move.

I embraced the terrible feeling. The more pain, the more gratifying. It was for the best. If I would die peacefully in my sleep, then it would end my misery.

____

Here's your chance to message Kristov. Give him the best advice guys. We don't want him to die, right?

Dear Kristov, ____