The Billionaire's Spy Lover

Chapter1

Our story begins with a fair-skinned lady who looked ethereal in a red sleeveless dress that flowed past her hips and legs, to the tips of her toes and to the floor.

Her hair was piled high and resembled a cone with a flowery ribbon highlighting the tips.

Her eyes were as blue as the sky on a sunny day bereft of clouds. Her skin was so snowy, a few veins were visible on her arms and neck, intertwined like the roots of an old oak tree.

Our fair-skinned lady marched with determined steps, like a knight on a mission, towards a wooden door with her eyes staring straight ahead.

This long hall reminded her of a life she had lived not so long ago, one she would love to forget.

So she blinked twice and chased the thoughts that threatened to crowd her imagination away. This was not that kind of night.

She was meant to be in good spirits tonight, and she was. She looked beautiful. She felt beautiful, and everything she had planned seemed to be falling in place.

The golden jewelry on the neck of our fair lady sparkled. It was designed to resemble the sun, with a large piece of gold locked in its middle, hidden away behind a dainty glass.

The gold sparkled like the sun would in the center of the galaxy. It was a very rare piece of jewelry, and the only thing of financial value she owned.

The jewel was her mother’s. Her dear father, bless his soul, had it shipped over seven seas, or so he said.

She knew he exaggerated a bit with that detail, but she liked to imagine the necklace safely locked away in an old, brown and heavy treasure chest, lying in a locked cabin of a large and sturdy ship, fighting angry waves and storms to land at a dock in Edinburgh.

She had never been to Edinburgh, but it sounded like the place to receive such rare treasures. The Sailor retrieved the necklace with gloved hands and laid it in the jewelry box.

It was then driven into town and delivered safely to his father. Father had come home, climbed the stairs, and dropped the jewelry box carefully on mother’s bedside with a perfumed letter.

None of that had happened, but our lady had a wild imagination.

Her earrings were also a gift from her mother, but they were of no material value. But what they lacked in financial weight, they made up in sentimental value. These pieces of jewelry were the only things that her mother still owned, and she wore them when she was in good spirits.

Tonight, she was in good spirits.

But deep within her beating heart, she found it hilarious she was wearing pieces gifted to her by dead people. Yes, her mother had died when she was six, and Father was cremated just nine months ago. His ashes lay in an earthenware vessel in her cupboard.

His last wish was for them to be released at sea, but she could not bring herself to obey that order just yet. It was still a little hard to believe that her jolly father – the man who always had a good story to tell, the man with the silver hair and the hidden limp – was gone.

She shook the wild thoughts away. This was certainly not that kind of night.

Besides, she knew he would not want her to grieve so hard. He would expect her to breathe easily, knowing that death was a better fate than the damning pain he had had to suffer in his final days. Still, she could not help but wonder what he would think about her now.

She had changed a lot after his death. Months ago, she would have been curled up on a sofa with a heavy book not walking in a large corridor, far away from home, and in a red dress she had made in a week. She wondered what he would think of the man she was meeting.

Would he laugh, or would he frown disapprovingly, especially after she told him the means she had taken to find this man?

Finally, she arrived at the door at the end of the corridor. And the security guard nodded and opened it.

The noise rushed at her.

The hall was packed with gentlemen and ladies in gowns and tuxedos. A few lifted their eyes to her, and she found herself shivering at the attention. They all looked stunning.

There were golden cufflinks here, some heavy pearls there, and designer jewelry everywhere.

As she walked stately into the ballroom, her eyes took in the display before her. She has been to many exquisite places, but none of those places quite scratched the surface of the beauty of Berling Hall.

The first time she was there, she was only twenty and the space had made her feel so plain. Crystal chandeliers spiraled down from the arching sky-blue ceiling and illuminated the glimmering golden walls and a floor so polished it looked like an iced lake.

Today, it wasn’t just the ballroom, but also the women who sparkled like a box of jewels. Shades of emerald and ruby and amethyst swirled before her. She looked down at the red dress she had made.

Thank God it was perfect. She had wanted to look beautiful, but she had needed to look wealthy too, because only then would she be able to make this work.

There was nothing in the snobbish posture of these wealthy guests that suggested they would frolic with anyone of little means.

Finally, someone signed behind her and she jumped slightly.

“Oh, it is you,” she beamed when she turned around. Behind her was the man who had thrown this gala, Mr. Jones. He did not look a day over fifty, but his hair was almost white.

“I thought, perhaps, you had changed your mind?” He asked.

She shook her head. “Of course, not.”

She had stumbled on him, for the first time, in the papers a couple of weeks ago and had shown up at the course where he played golf with her proposal. She had pinched herself after he co-signed her plan.

“I will have to make my apologies now,” Mr. Jones was saying. “This is such a busy night and I might neglect you from time to time…”

“Oh, that wouldn’t be a problem,” she nodded quickly. She certainly didn’t need him anymore, anyway.

The words had barely left her moving lips when two ladies walked over to them. They were both blondes and they both wore long gowns with sparse jewelry. And they were smiling so hard.

“Oh! You look so exquisite, and this is such a great charity”, they gushed.

Our lady wondered which of the slides showing malnourished children qualified for that adjective as she walked away. But her legs didn’t stop as they were headed towards the pictures lined on the wall.