Tempted in a Forbidden Fire with a Billionaire

It's the Azurlan Estate just the way I remember it. Gorgeous high ceilings, dreamy staircases, marble statues, crown moldings, chandeliers that cost more than my flat, and chandeliers that are beyond compare. It has an eerie quality today, even if it is familiar. Breathing in the air that surrounds me seems unsafe and uncomfortable, even as I push my feet to comply and propel me over the boundary. Rather, each breath is tinged with remorse. For the brief time I was here, I really enjoyed living there. Even more, I loved the man with whom I shared it. "How are you doing?" My supervisor asks, Lara. "Gretchen, it appears that you have witnessed a ghost." It is as though I am a ghost strolling through my life's memories. I lie and take a sip of the champagne she is giving me, saying, "It's just a lot to take in, even though we're working." One another falsehood. This used to be my home, and now I feel like an unauthorized guest, intruding. She understands, dipping her chin. "Once the interview begins, you'll feel better. You're my current greatest reporter by far, and the only one ready to speak with someone like the Azurlan clan, which is why you're here. Yes, I would have said no to the interviewer an hour ago if I had known who it would be. The mayor handed me his phone number on the back of a coffee cup, and I'd like to interview him once more. There are tons of fancy businessmen in Manila City, I wouldn’t have even imagined Jackson would be on the list of possibilities for this job. More so now that I'm interviewing him and his fiancée about their announcement of marriage. That portion does hurt, yes. Nevertheless, if I hadn't stopped closely monitoring him over the past year, I would have discovered it. My fixation on him grew to an overwhelming extent, and I would have visited him if I hadn't stopped observing his every action. How quickly I would have crumbled. Assuming he would pardon me, I would have hurried back to tell him everything. It has been far too long. Consequently, I was unable to. I couldn't be the one to ruin his life. I doubt I will make it through. It would be too much to bear the guilt. "The interview is in less than 30 minutes, I'm going to make some calls and use the restroom for women first." I gently walked to the rear of the entry hall after returning the partially empty champagne glass to her. As I rush to escape the pain, eyes follow me and adhere to me. Not even my boss is aware of who I am. If she knew, that's not why she sent me here. If she had known, she most likely would not have hired me. When I arrive at the restroom, it's empty, so I can take a deep breath and attempt to relax. That is, until my dress pocket buzzes with my phone. My hands were shaking when I answered the phone. "What are you doing here?" From a deep voice of a man, roaring like thunder in my ear. That voice... my heart sank for a few seconds. Screw it. How could he not have noticed me before the interview? He knew my new phone number. I cleared my throat, luckily my voice didn't crack. "Working. Is that a problem?" "Working for who?" "Manila City Digest. Look, I know you don't like this idea, the feeling is mutual. But I’m a reporter now. I can’t get out of this. I didn’t know you’d be the person I’m interviewing until an hour ago." I nearly stammer! "Wow, you sound so casual, like nothing happened, huh? You shouldn't come back..." I tried not to show my grief, but I felt like I failed in any case. "I didn't plan to." "Meet me by the fountain in ten minutes." "That’s not a good idea." "Fountain. Ten minutes. Or the interview is canceled." My eyes got bigger. I need this interview with Lara and my team. I sighed deeply, feeling defeated. "As you wish." I paced a few paces back and forth around the room, shaking my hands, officially nervous and anxious. Why the hell does he want to see me? Gosh, I’m going to see his face. I’m going to see his face and have to keep myself from crying. I attempt to force myself into professional mode and settle my anxiety. That's my work, nothing more. I have to act graciously, nicely, and politely. I don't even bother following up on the Burke case. Deciding to dash out of the restroom and toward the rear door that leads to the garden. My cat fountain. The structure isn’t illuminated and flowing with shimmery water like it always used to be. It’s dark and murky, turned off without an ounce of beauty to show for. It’s abandoned, like I abandoned him. That's what the whole garden is. Everywhere you look are dead plants that crunch under my heels. The pool house's security lights and a few lampposts are the only sources of illumination. Observing the graveyard of our former garden makes my heart hurt. Before I can stop it, a tear begins to creep down my cheek. “Sad, isn’t it?” The buttery voice of my former love creeps up behind me. “It used to be quite a sight out here. Obviously things have changed.” I wipe the tear away quickly, hoping he won’t notice, but he does. “What exactly do you have to cry over, Gretchen? You left me. You did this to the garden. You.” I am unable to look at him, and he is unable to look at me. "I don't know what else you want me to say, Jack." Standing side by side, we are gazing into the ruins of our deserted yard. Our departed beloved. A second goes by. Two, perhaps. He snarls, taking my arms and turning me around so I can see him. "I want you to admit it." I get a glimpse of the hurt I've caused him when we make eye contact. There's never felt anything worse than confronting him right now. Jackson's handsomeness is still astounding. It would be ridiculous to deny that. At thirty-five years old, he is clad in the most attractive tuxedo a guy could don. Traditional black coat, white shirt, and slim black tie in a pure black color. His hair remains dark. He has the summertime tan that he used to have every year. Odd, considering that it's February. Though I already knew that, Jackson is even more fit now than he was when we were together. When I left, he was essentially living at the gym. “Admit what?” My voice cracks under the pressure of his scrutiny. “Admit why you left. I know you lied, admit why.” More pathetic, soft tears roll down my face. “Jackson. I can’t.” His nostrils flare. “Why the hell not? I’m standing here, right here, asking you. After three f*****g years without you, I’m standing here begging you to tell me it was a lie. Tell me, Gretchen.” “It won’t change anything. You’re engaged and your life is better now without me here to mess it up, again. I can’t Jackson, I can’t,” I chant, hopelessly starving to let the truth come out. “What do you mean? You didn’t mess anything up, not until you left! What are you hiding?” His fingers tighten around my arms, urging me to open up. He wants to know. He needs to know. Say it. I– My mouth opens as my resolve crumbles– “Darling, are you out there?” a feminine voice calls out. Jackson's hands let me go and I immediately wipe away my tears with the backs of my hands. “There you are, the Oasis reporter team would like a photo– oh, who’s this?” Jilian Louie, the woman marrying the love of my life. She might as well be a damn supermodel, except she’s not a supermodel, she’s a lawyer and a ridiculously good one. Her short blonde hair is impeccable and her body is enviable. I throw on my professional voice as fast as I can. “Gretchen Alferez,” I say with a smile, holding out my hand. “I’ll be conducting your interview in a bit, I was just on a call when I ran into Mr. Azurlan. It’s very nice to meet you, I should get back.” I smile again, fake. After shaking her hand lightly, I make myself scarce. Not even two minutes later, as I’m finally calming myself down in a private hallway, my phone buzzes again. Jackson: It would make a difference. Tell me, please. Gretchen: I can’t put you at risk anymore. I won’t. Jackson: What risk? I would have done anything for you. I still will. Gretchen: It’s best if we just get through the interview. You’ll never have to see me again after, I swear. You deserve to be happy with her. Jackson: Damnit, Gretchen! Gretchen: I’m so sorry. It’s better this way. “There you are!” Lara smiles as she finds me, clapping her hands together and rubbing them excitedly. “Let’s go get you set up in the interview room.” “Sounds good.” Luckily, this interview should take less than a half hour. Unluckily, some of these questions are going to f*****g sting. It doesn’t take long to set up the chairs and equipment. “Hello, Mr. Azurlan, Ms. Louie. I’m Lara Howard, senior story analyst for the Manila City Digest. This is Gretchen Alferez, our special interests interviewer.” Lara introduces herself, shaking each of their hands. I shake them both in return, like we haven’t met. Special interests interviewer my ass. I interview hotheads no one else wants to deal with. Why? Because no one else will, and I don’t care enough to argue about it. “Please, have a seat.” I tried to smile and point to the chairs in front of me. My stomach rolls uncomfortably while Jackson looks at me with longing eyes. It’s torture to turn my focus on Jillian. “I understand this will be your first interview as an engaged couple, congratulations.” Fake. Everything is fake even though I wanted to sound genuine. I just can't! “Yes, thank you. I’m very excited,” Jillian says with a sweet smile. She sets her hand in his and I almost choke. I’m not a violent person. But when her fingers flex around his, I can see myself ripping her off of him and killing her. With my bare hands. I feel jealous. And pathetic to feel that way. "That’s wonderful, I do have a few non–romantic questions, but they are quick,” I promise, looking down at my questions even though they are memorized. I had an hour to prepare but, an hour of memorizing for me is a cakewalk. “Will you be pursuing the position of district attorney in the future? Given the new public image you’ve created with your last few big wins, the people of Manila City are curious.” “Actually, I’d like to stay out of prosecution for the time being. I’m hoping to move into more pro-bono work, and continue to work as a defense attorney helping the underrepresented members of our community.” How lovely, she has a heart. “That’s very important work,” I commented, fixing my eyes on Jackson as the next question was to him. “What would you say to anyone questioning your ability to juggle planning a wedding and your newest business acquisition, Mr. Azurlan?” “I’d say it’s foolish to believe that there is anything I can’t handle and do, Ms. Alferez. Especially if I really, really want to get something from it.” I had a hard time swallowing my own saliva. He talked more about that damn topic, everyone was happily listening except for me. His words sounded double-meaning for me and I couldn't relax in my seat! It's like he's talking to me with words only we could understand. "Now for the fun stuff,” I prompted with a halfhearted smile, brushing away all the weird thoughts. “I’ve been told you’d like to announce a date for the big day, is that true?” “Yes, this next Fall. The estate is beautiful when the leaves are orange,” Jillian answers, beaming with a smile at Jackson. He gave her a tight smile in return. My heart is nearly jumping out of my chest. They’ll be married in less than a year, in our favorite season. Probably in the garden. My garden. “Wonderful,” I faked excitement, trying to steady my heart. Three years ago, I should have told him. But it's too late now. Too late. He's getting married now. I glanced at him once again, and I caught him staring at me, or through my soul... it's like he's planning something dark that suddenly gave a shiver down my spine. "Yes, wonderful. The fun starts now." What?