Once Disgraced, Now A Billionaire Mom

ANITA “Oh hell no. Not allowed.” I freeze mid-typing, just as my laptop pings again on my lap. Before I can react to Paulo’s voice, his hand lunges from behind, swiping at my laptop. My cocktail tips and the cold liquid spills all over the keyboard and my white, missoni bikini set. “Paulo!” A gasp spills from my lips. I spin to face him, still seated. Somewhere above, a seagull cries out with me, and a salty breeze lifts strands of my hair onto my face. But Paulo’s not looking at me, instead focused on shaking off the liquid off my keyboard. “I warned you.” He finally looks at me, pushing some ginger curls away from his river green eyes. “I brought you out on this vacation to enjoy yourself ahead of your 27th birthday, Nini. Not work. Why would you even bring your laptop out to the beach in the first place?” I huff, glancing at the red blotch on my bikini top. Perfect. Just perfect. “I just needed to respond to a few emails, Paulo. I really appreciate this gesture but I can’t just forget all about my businesses because of some days of fun.” I pause to sigh. Then I lift myself off the chair, taking my cover-up with me. I slip it on. “The stain is bad. I have to change.” Just to show him I’m not really mad at him, even if all these upset me a little… I move closer and smack the side of his head. He smiles, catching my hand. “You owe me a new missoni set.” “Granted.” “Three sets.” His shoulders shake with laughter, but he still goes, “Granted.” I flash him a smile, then turn to start heading back to my room in the resort. Talk about a man that never says no to you. Forever grateful for my bestfriend. I’m off the beach grounds now, walking into the building in the resort where my room is, when I hear a cry. It’s soft, muffled, but I still hear it. I stop in my tracks. That sounds like a child. I want to walk away but the cry grows louder. Blame this on my motherly instincts, but I have to see if that baby is okay. My steps are quick as I stride towards the open doorway ahead. I reach the doorway and just behind it is a little boy crouched on the tiled ground, face red with tears. I immediately kneel beside him. “Hey…” I coo softly. “What’s wrong, sweetie?” The boy’s head snaps up to meet my gaze and the first thing I notice are familiar, piercing blue eyes. And my nose. Probably delusional of me, but the little boy’s nose looks so much like mine. I don’t need a mirror to confirm. He’s a beautiful boy, too, even with the tears and snot. He should be 5 or 6… He draws closer to me and the gesture makes my chest squeeze with affection. His small hands are shaky but he lifts his shorts a bit, revealing a small injury. Theres a small blood stain on his shorts, and a trail moves down his knee. My heart clenches for him. “Oh my God. Can I touch you?” He nods, sniffs. I go ahead and hold his knee gently, properly inspecting the wound. I need a first aid. The injury is small, but if we waste any more time, it might get infected. “What’s your name, baby?” He pauses, then murmurs after a while, “Santiago.” “Can you walk, Santiago?” He shakes his head no. I smile. Kids are so dramatic. I nod, asking again, “Can I carry you?” Santiago nods. So I reach for him and he melts into my embrace as I lift him off the ground, bridal-style. “Where are your parents?” I ask. He looks around. “Uncle Maxie went to get sissy out of the water.” I can’t help but snort. Oh, poor uncle Maxie. These kids seem like a handful. “Alright. We’ll get your wound treated and go look for your Uncle Maxie after. Yeah?” “Yeah.” I spot a worker on the resort and I call out to her, “Hi, can I get a first aid box, please?” “Sure, ma’am. I’ll be right back.” She rushes off. She’s back in a minute. I get to work right away. While I’m still cleaning the wound, kneeling in front of him while he sits on a recliner chair, I hear a loud voice call out, “Santi!” “Uncle Maxie!” And just like that, Santiago bursts into tears again. Oh, the drama! “What’s going on here? What happened?” The voice is closer now and so excruciatingly familiar, I snap my head up faster than light. The cotton wool drops from my hold and the entire world freezes in that moment. The world blurs and it’s just us. It’s silent, save for the ringing in my ears and the slow, dramatic sound of my heartbeat. Standing in front of me as Santiago’s uncle Maxie is none other than the devil—Maximus Calderòn. The man who tore my life apart, who killed me before I had a chance to actually live. The reason why Paulo is the face of all my businesses—because the criticism and cyber bullying he brought upon me had chased me off the internet for good. I used to think I’m ready to see him again. That my heart can take it, but in this moment, I realize I’m not that strong. I’m not strong at all. My eyes start to feel with moisture but a fist of rage immediately through my sorrow. Dull pain sharpens into knives, cutting through me as I stand on shaky feet. “Jane.” He calls my old name. His voice is hoarse, like he actually cares that I’m standing in his presence. I’m filled with more rage, I can almost taste the emotion on my tongue. I straighten my shoulders and glare into his eyes. He’s still so ruthlessly handsome, knife-blade cheekbones, jet black hair and icy blue orbs that stare into the soul. Maximus has always been all man and solid muscle, but he’s towering over me even more now. Gone are his overkept beards, it’s now a dark stubble—same color with his hair, unbuttoned shirt and slides. I don’t focus on his looks, I know how much they disarmed me back in the day. I’m not that foolish, naive girl anymore. “First off, I never want to hear my name from your filthy mouth again. Second of all, why the hell would you abandon a little child like this without even security to watch over him? That’s neglect. Something worse could have happened to him.” I look back at Santiago to see him peering at us with interest. The worker’s now putting a bandage over his knee. I turn back to Maximus. He doesn’t look the least fazed with how cold I sound towards him. Right? How dare I forget how emotionless the devil truly is? “I searched for you. Used all your names. It was like you vanished off the face of the earth.” I scoff. I’m about to storm away from him, go somewhere I can actually catch my breath because all of a sudden, it feels hot in this cool breeze. But then, a little girl runs toward us—dark curls bouncing, kicking up sand as she ran. No exaggerating, she’s like a sunbeam in human form. I can’t take my eyes off her. When she gets close, she slows… and stares at me. My breath leaves my body. She looks like me. I’m not delusional, she… she looks like me. My face. His eyes. I grip the hem of my cover-up, grounding myself. I look up at Maximus as if waiting for an explanation. Santiago has come up beside him now, so he gently shifts Santiago so he can touch the girl’s hair. “This is Aurora.” I swallow a sob. I don’t know why I’ve gotten so emotional, I don’t know but my throat just closes up. Aurora! My daughter’s name was supposed to be Aurora. I told him. He knows. My chest tightens painfully. “She… sorry… who are they to you?” “My siblings. They’re five. They happened right after…” He pauses, memories pass between us. “… right after you left.” He completes. I nod once, but my dazed gaze stays on the children. Twins. I had twins too. Exactly five years ago. My twins were stolen at the hospital and reported dead to me. And now… I need to get out of here. So I clear my throat and say, “Oh okay. Uh, enjoy your trip.” And I bolt. I rush into my room and slam the door shut. Heading straight to the mirror, I touch my face frantically, muttering, “Oh my God. Oh my God, they looked like me. Max… Maximus had those kids and they looked like me, they looked like me.” Tears finally begin to stream down my cheeks. I clutch my shirt above my heart, not recognizing my voice as I groan and cry. Everything just comes rushing back to me. I leave my chest and grab my head with both hands, but my chest still hurts. Everything hurts. He took everything. Everything, and now I see kids that look like mine also standing beside him. What kind of torture is this? Why does the universe hate me? Just when I think I’m healing… I can’t, I can’t. I need to leave here, gather my thoughts, I don’t trust myself around those children. The first thing I thought when I saw them both was that I need to have them. I’m so sure. I’ve never been sure about anything in my life. They’re mine. Maybe I can prove it. f**k, f**k, I need to talk to someone. Paulo, maybe, I’m losing my mind.