The Billionaire's Christmas Revenge (Book 4)

Chapter 9

Tell me how to forget you and I will happily let you go- L.E. Bowman.

Geneviève's POV.

Despite the scalding water pouring down my body, I shivered nevertheless as the striking chillness whipped at me from within like the lash of a metal. Non-stop tears continued to pour as I hugged myself in a pitiful attempt to halt the violent shivers that wracked my body. Completely grief-stricken, melancholy ate away at my dejected soul as my legs finally gave out and I crumbled towards the cool wet tiles of the bathroom floor unable to hold together the heavy weight of my broken heart. Guilt, shame and the ever present misery that constantly lingered around me resurfaced in waves as I placed my head between my knees desperately trying to comfort myself as I sobbed like I never had before. Flashbacks flinted through my mind like an old movie, the good, the bad and finally the worst but it was nothing compared to the physical pain of the present having to relive the heartache. And it was absolutely brutal knowing that I caused it onto myself. But the price to pay yet again was too heavy to bare. As the hot water rained against my naked back I became transported back in time as the clear cut memory gave rise to every ounce of emotion as if it were just yesterday...

**

Flashback to 7 years ago:

"Ms. Geneviève, your father requests your presence immediately." Patricia, our head maid said as she paused breathing heavily as though she had just completed the annual New York Marathon.

"Are you alright Patricia?" I asked concerned as I tucked away my journal under the picnic blanket before finally noticing her fearful expression. My eyes searched hers as she looked on at me in equal concern.

"I've been looking for you everywhere. Please, your father has been calling you some time now. Hurry in and I'll carry your items back to your room."

"Okay but can you please be careful with the painting, I made it for Dillon and I don't want the wet pain to get smudge." I informed her before making my way back inside.

Immediately the warmth and peaceful atmosphere of the outside was replaced by the cold aura that usually accompanied any area within the mansion as I hesitantly made my way into father's office. Knocking twice, I heard his gruff 'come in' as I found him in his usual favored position sitting against an old leather chair that used to belong to grand-father and his preferred whiskey in hand.

"Geneviève, what could have possibly taken you so long?" He asked sternly as annoyance was written clearly across his aging face.

"I was in the garden...painting." I replied standing by the door clasping my hands together as the dismal atmosphere chased me as though it was a warning foreshadowing what was to come.

"Painting?" He repeated in disgust, "Are you a child, you need to sit and paint the sun and the sky?"

"No father." I respectfully replied, "I was painting a special piece for Dillon."

"Are you still running around town with that British boy?" He asked over the rim off his glass.

"I am not as you put it running around town with him." I repeated, "I am in love with him and he loves me back."

Abruptly he stood up as the scraping of the chair against the tiled floor caused a sliver of panic to shred through me, "Love! You cannot possibly be that dense, do you even know what love is?"

"Do you father?" I found myself saying immediately wanting to take back the words as the shock then anger laced across his face.

"You are not allowed to see him again." He spat after a brief pause, his words echoing into the silence of the room.