The color of our love

Chapter 9

Justin was pleased with his move. She seemed surprised, and he liked that. He hadn't wanted to stay in Moscow another minute. He'd returned after dinner with Emily. She'd decided to come today, or rather, he'd ordered her to because of her fragile health.

"So where do I put this?" he asked, pointing to the packages he was holding.

Having recovered from her surprise, Olivia directed him to the kitchen. He went there and returned a few moments later.

"I thought that..." she said.

- Indeed, I was in Moscow to take care of some business, and especially one matter that did not require me to travel, but I am here now, he interrupted.

"How?" she asked, perplexed.

"Private jets, Trésor," he replied, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Now, enough talk. I suppose you're hungry. Come on, the croissants are still warm."

She said nothing and followed him. He had already laid everything out on the table. She sat down and began to eat.

Justin clenched his jaw convulsively. This young woman was the embodiment of temptation. He had fought for years not to succumb to the charms of any woman, but all his resolve had crumbled. For years, he had hated women with the last of his strength. To him, they were the devil's offspring; they should not be part of creation because they represented the fall of man, which began in the Garden of Eden. They should not follow man after that episode; on the contrary, God should eliminate them from the face of the earth. The evil was deep, truly deep. A most painful memory resurfaced in his mind.

Flashback

A five-year-old boy sits in his room, crying. His father is away, and his mother, that shameless woman, is having an affair with the man who betrayed his father. He's only five, yet he already understands everything that's going on around him. Adults often think that children know nothing, that they don't yet have the capacity to understand adult life, that they're too young to know. But they don't realize that children have a great aptitude for understanding things that even adults can't grasp. Don't we say that children still in the womb can understand what their mother tells them during pregnancy? So why can't we understand that children know or are aware of the world around them?

A car just pulled up; he guessed it was his father's and ran towards it. It was indeed his father, who embraced him. They went back up the stairs together. His father had lost everything, all his inheritance and possessions. All he had left was this house, which he had the foresight to put in his son's name. This man, his father, had fought tooth and nail to recover his property, but alas, someone he considered his brother had betrayed him in the worst possible way. He was now just a shadow of his former self, but for his son's sake, he was trying to hold on.

Reaching the doorstep, the little boy tried to stop his father from entering, but he wouldn't listen. He pushed the door open, but the sight before him was unbearable. He rushed out of the room. He began to run down the long staircase, but after only a few steps, he tripped and fell to the bottom.

End of flashback.

Justin closed his eyes for a moment; he would never forget that scene that had marked his life. It had forever changed his childhood, robbing him of the joy of growing up like all the other children his age. To mask her guilt, his mother had made it look like a bad fall. She had played the grieving widow, shedding crocodile tears. Justin had sworn then to make her and that traitor pay for their betrayal of his father when the time came. Tayron Gordon had died before he reached adulthood, but his mother was still there, and she would pay the price of betrayal for both of them.

Justin refused to dwell on bad memories while standing right in front of a young woman who embodied tenderness incarnate, looking at him with eyes that, aside from Emily, his father, and Kyle, had never seen him with—eyes that valued him and saw him as a normal human being. Eyes that weren't filled with greed. He decided then and there to devote himself entirely to her, at least for the time being.

"Mr. Hamilton, is everything alright?" she asked.

"No more Mr. Hamilton, please, call me Justin," he replied.

"But why? Since you are my boss and I find it grotesque, what will the others say if they hear me call you by your first name?" she asked nervously.

"That's for me to swear to, my angel, anyway I don't pay them to take care of my life," he replied.

Justin could have sworn she was blushing despite her dark skin. He clenched his jaw to stem the tide of desire that tormented him. He stood up abruptly, which made her gasp in surprise. He pulled up a chair right next to her.

"Say it," he ordered.

"Justin," she murmured, embarrassed.

"Good," he said, getting up.

He went back to his original seat and watched her for a moment. He saw that she constantly avoided his gaze. This young woman was unknowingly becoming his weakness. At that moment, he just wanted to push her onto the table and make her scream in ecstasy. He wanted to hear her say his name again and again until she couldn't take it anymore. Never before had he desired a woman to the point of aching joints.

"You'll accompany me to dinner tonight," he blurted out.

"What?" she exclaimed.

- You heard right, Trésor, a car will come and pick you up at 7:30 pm.

He went out and returned a few minutes later with a package which he handed to her.

- Here, this is what you'll wear.

She took his dress, satisfied, he planted a kiss on her forehead and left, leaving her completely shaken....