The Billionaire Who Stole My...

By AnisaMxo

726K 3.4K 499

"Will you let me make it up to you?" He asked in a whisper. I whispered a 'yes' before feeling his lips softl... More

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Copyright
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty

Chapter Thirty-Eight

1K 38 1
By AnisaMxo

Dorian's POV

I sat on the leather office chair, taking another look at the guest list I had requested. The updated version of the list and the one I had given to me this morning; both looked the same. There was no response from Alena and no information on whether she was coming to the ball.

The RSVP hadn't even been returned. Every time I thought of her my heart dropped a little. All I could think of was what I had lost. Those laughs that we had at each other's apartment, the picnic in her gallery and the smiles we had shared were now memories.

The office phone started to ring. Picking it up, I heard Rachel say someone was waiting for me.

"Can they wait five minutes?" I requested, pinching the bridge of my nose.

The door opened wide, revealing the woman who had brought me into this world.

"I'm not waiting for anyone Dorian." She walked in with her black coat in her arms and her maroon gloves in her hand. Even though it was October, Momma would always wear gloves as soon as the weather turned cold.

I sighed as Mom took a seat on the other side of the desk.

"Do you want a coffee or anything to drink?" I offered, watching her get up and walk around the sofas.

"No, sweetheart," she said, her hand gliding along the back of the couch. "I'm not planning to stay for long."

I replied with an 'oh' and turned back to the laptop screen and sheets of paper on my desk. No matter how many times I looked over the guest list, it still said the same thing written there. Taking the sheets of paper, I crumpled them up and threw them into the wastepaper basket. I let out a deep sigh before turning back to the emails on my laptop.

"So do you want to tell me how you messed up or do I have to get a private investigator on you?"

Looking up at Mom, I noticed her eyebrows were raised and her eyes were tired and concerned with what was bothering me. Her emerald eyes looked over the office one last time before she came back to the chair opposite my desk.

"Would you get a private investigator?" I asked, half-jokingly.

"You have no idea," She sighed, playing with her wedding rings. The cushion-cut diamond reflected the colours of the rainbow all over the office ceiling. When the both of them decided to renew their vows, Dad wanted to buy a new ring for Mom. It was up to her what she wanted, but being the simple and sophisticated woman she was, Mom decide to keep the one she had from the beginning. She didn't want anything added or something new. She wanted the same ring from the beginning.

"Her name is Alena," I began slowly.

"Beautiful name," Mom replied quietly.

"She honestly is..." I tapped the end of my pan against the glass desk. "She's smart. Ambitious. Dedicated. Beautiful. She's everything I want and more."

From the way my mother looked at me, concern was still on her face as her eyebrows furrowed together.

"I knew her," I slowly said. "I knew who she was before she became Alena."

"What do you mean?" Mom asked.

"Do you remember a couple of years ago Dad and I went to London?"

"Yes..." She hesitantly replied. To her, it was the start of my father's declining health. "You guys came back and I just remember your Dad saying how guilty he felt. He never told me why. It hurt so much he could never tell me."

This time her face filled with worry at the thought of Dad. I could see she was deeply confused about what that had to do with anything. So, I explained to her what had happened with Rhys Jacobs. I explained how Rhys wanted Alena and me to be engaged to each other; how Alena was his daughter; how she moved to the Hamptons after he had died. I explained to her how I had known all this time. I explained to her that Alena found out the truth. And how I had messed up. How I had fucked up everything.

"She painted the piece for the end-of-summer ball," I said, placing the pen on the desk. "She didn't respond to the invitation, so I guess, she doesn't want anything to do with me."

"Dorian..." Mom sighed my name. "Have you at least spoken to her?"

I shook my head remembering how I lost some of the contacts on my phone after the security breach. Her number had gone along with some other people.

The office phone rang, halting the rest of the unfinished conversation. Picking it up, Rachel asked whether Mom and I wanted anything for lunch. I looked at the time and realised I hadn't eaten anything today. Turning to Mom, I asked her whether she wanted anything.

"Why not?" She responded. "It's been a while since I had lunch with my baby boy."

"I'll be sure not to tell Alek you said that," I smiled.

Deciding that I would treat Mom to her favourite sushi for our lunch together, the two of us talked about Alek and how he was doing at school. The conversation then drifted to plans Mom had made for Thanksgiving and Christmas. Although the catchup and quality time had kept my mind busy, it had to stop as soon as Mom said she had someplace else to be.

"Sometimes," Mom began, putting her coat back on. "You have to talk to the person you love and tell them how you feel."

"What if they don't want to hear it?"

"Then there's no point wasting your time. But, you are basing it on a what-if. You never know, she could be waiting for you. Talking it out is the easiest thing to do. And miscommunication is the stupidest thing ever." She shook her head as if she was thinking about something from her past. I wanted to ask what she had gone through, but the one thing my mother would always keep from her children was the hurt she had experienced.

"Try not to worry about it," She said as she placed a kiss on my cheek.

I opened the door for her to leave, and I was alone all over again, just like that.

Alena's POV

Saying goodbye to the last of the older ladies from the pensioners' class, I began to fold away the wooden easels. The afternoon sun glowed through the windows, gleaming over all the different artworks.

Entering the back studio, I could see Mr Halliwell with sheets of paper piled in his systemic way. Although he was a retired art critic and gallery owner, he still knew his way around running a place.

"With private visits, all these pieces you're selling and the lessons – you're making quite a lot of money for yourself." Mr Halliwell said as he looked at the last of the statements, invoices and finances.

"That's good," I breathed out, putting the easels back into the steel cupboard.

"I hear that you were invited to the end-of-summer ball," He stated, filing the last of the documents. "It looked like Dorian Bradley took a liking to you.

I shook my head and headed to the front of the gallery to grab the last of the easels. Walking back to the studio, I couldn't help but stop at the painting I had done when the gallery opened. I remembered how I couldn't come up with any inspiration. When I met Dorian I couldn't help but feel inspired. Creativity coursed through my veins and now it was wanted by the richest socials of the Hamptons.

"It's a beautiful piece," Halliwell said. I noticed he was ready to leave and call it a day.

"Thank you so much for today," I said.

As we said goodbye, I headed to the cupboard, putting away the last of the easels. Closing the steel doors, I turned the key and locked the cupboard before heading to the empty canvas I had set up earlier. Taking the box of acrylic paints off the shelf, I took a few tubes and squirted a bit of paint onto a palette.

Grabbing the nearest paintbrush, I dabbed and mixed the colours before brushing the blank canvas. Each stroke filled the blank sheet; I didn't know how the piece would end up. As the colours blended, I heard the sound of the gallery bell chime.

Walking to the studio, I noticed the recent visitor that walked in. Her hair was jet black, matching the coat that she wore. She sat on the wooden bench with her back turned to me. I couldn't help but notice it was the same bench Dorian and I had sat on after the gallery opening.

"Hi," I greeted, trying to catch her attention. "Can I help you?"

She turned to me with a soft smile on her face. I couldn't help but notice her soft, green eyes – how they filled with hope, in her hands were maroon leather gloves. Her wedding bands glimmered in the gallery's natural light.

"Oh, I don't want to be a bother," she said softly. "I heard about this place and had to see it for myself. Are you the owner?"

I nodded with a shy smile. Even when people asked, I was still hesitant to say the gallery was mine.

"Wow," She sighed, getting up from the bench. She began to pace around the gallery, taking in all the unique pieces that had been collected.

The sound of her heels stopped in front of the piece I had been working on for months.

"Such a strong and expressive piece," The lady said. Silence filled the air as she analysed the piece. "I'm guessing this piece was done by you."

I nodded and looked up at the piece. It had been a long time since I had properly sat down to admire it.

"I always wanted to own a gallery." The visitor continued. "It was something I always wanted to do. But being married and having children, it takes up my time."

I gave her a small smile, realising how lucky I was to fulfil my dream.

"Are you invited to the Bradley's Family Ball?" She asked. I looked up at her, taken aback by the sudden question.

"The end-of-summer ball?" I repeated before shaking my head. "I forgot to respond to the RSVP. Besides, I am busy with private lessons that day."

She looked at me questioningly before walking to a different painting. "Why not come and meet some potential clients? They might want some pieces commissioned. I may be one of them."

"I doubt I can go now." I scoffed slightly.

"Alena, isn't it?" She asked.

I nodded trying to remember whether I had introduced myself properly to her.

"I'll have your name added to the guest list."

My heart raced as my mouth dropped open in surprise at this stranger's sudden kindness.

"I'll see you on Thursday," She said with a smile.

Glancing at the painting one last time, she left through the gallery doors. The mysterious figure didn't turn back. She left a presence that couldn't be replicated again. But, it would be noticeable to anyone who met her.

To all those who don't know, I have become a writer on Radish. I am honestly loving it and I'm really happy.

I will still be updating on Wattpad, however, Radish will have priority uploads.

Wattpad updates will be released 28 days after Radish uploads. But... if you are itching to read the last few chapters head on over to Radish!

Chapter Thirty-Nine will be updated on Wattpad Wednesday 4th January!

Also if you guys didn't know I'm on Twitter! So if you want to go ahead and interact with me over there, go ahead! I geek out over books, New Girl, Bridgerton, and anything to do with reading and writing and my life so feel free to join the dark side!

Social media info is down below!

I hope everyone is safe and sound!

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