The Billionaire's Maid in Disguise

Thirty Two - "What wicked things?"

Chapter Thirty Two

Pia's POV

"What do you mean I saved you?" I asked him, curious to know why.

He paused, observing me for a moment before he looked down, staring at his coffee.

"There was a time when I was at my lowest. It happened about a month after Mom and Anton died," he heaved a sigh, shaking his head slowly. I felt his struggle to open up, and I waited silently, until he continued, "I blame myself for their death, I still do... and I... I have this survivor's guilt that won't let go."

"Oh, Kristov," I touched his hand, and he captured it with his. He stared at me, and I could see the sadness and pain in his eyes.

"I was eighteen, so vulnerable. I was so upset with dad for throwing a party for his employees here in the mansion. He was drinking, talking business and laughing so loud, like..." his lips pressed together briefly, "like he never lost his loved ones. We were still mourning."

I nodded, acknowledging his feelings.

He heaved a long sigh, "I was so miserable, and cried a lot that day. I carved a heart in that tree using a knife," he pointed at the big oak tree, "then stabbed it deeply in frustration. I was contemplating on taking my own life at that moment, until I heard your giggles."

"Oh... you saw me."

He nodded, "I was amused. A teenager chasing a butterfly."

"Strange, right?" I laughed, "I love butterflies, and I haven't seen much where I live."

He smiled faintly, "you saw the heart in the tree, and you said something that struck me."

My brows raised questioningly, "I can't remember it anymore. What is it?"

"You said... It was a very sad and empty heart. That time could only fill that empty heart," he smiled, "I was holding on what you said. That soon, my extreme sadness and misery would soon pass and I would be healed."

I pressed his hand gently, "I'm glad I came at the right time."

"You did," he chuckled, "I was mesmerized looking at you, so bright and happy, enjoying the simple things... playing with butterflies, sleeping in the bermuda grass, appreciating the nature that surrounded you. You looked like an angel, a beautiful sweet angel. I thought for a moment that I was in heaven."

"Stop it. That's too cliche," I pulled my hand away, but he would not let go.

"I love holding your hand."

"Well, you can't. It's not your property."

"But it's my birthday today," his eyes were begging, and my heart melted easily.

"Okay, just for today."

His grin widened, and laced my fingers with his. Oh! This man is driving me crazy. All my insides stirred, evoking delicious sensations in the pit of my stomach.

He told me that the secluded garden used to be his mom's favorite spot. She brought him here often as a child - to read stories, have picnics, play hide and seek, or sleep on the soft grass. The garden became his favorite spot also. His hiding place especially whenever he wanted to paint.

"You love painting, and you're so good at it. I saw your painting that won first prize."

"You saw it?"

I nodded vigorously, "not the actual thing, but on the internet."

"I see," he looked pensive for a moment, "I don't know who owns the painting right now. The committee sold it to an anonymous person for a hundred million bucks."