Leandro: Greek. Biker. Billionaire. Page 9

  Bobby hastily got to her feet, not wanting Leandro to be involved in any kind of newsworthy incident that could hurt his father’s chances. “You’re causing a commotion, kópanos.”

  Leandro stiffened. This time, the Greek term did not sound like an endearment. This time, it did sound like exactly what it meant – a jerk. Or better yet, an arrogant jerk, a stupid asshole for swallowing Bobby’s every word as truth.

  Bobby’s smile started to waver when Leandro only looked at her, his stormy blue eyes cold. “L-Leandro?”

  “Congratulations,” he said bitterly. “We’ve both successfully fooled each other.”

  She shook her head in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

  He gritted out, “Who is he? Can you tell me that at least?”

  “Lower your voice. People are looking---”

  One of the waiters approached them. “Ms. Granger, is this man bothering---Mr. Christopoulos!” The waiter’s exclamation had shock rippling through the engrossed crowd as they realized that this was no quarrel between an heiress and biker scum. It was something far more delicious.

  “I don’t give a fuck what they hear. What’s there to be ashamed about? We both played each other for a fool---”

  His words finally sunk in. “Y-you played me for a fool?”

  Leandro laughed hollowly. “Are you fucking serious? You have the gall to look hurt when I’ve just caught you with another man? Valerie---” He saw both Bobby and her unknown date stiffen at the name and he said coldly, “Yes. It was Valerie who told me that I’ve an unfaithful bitch for a girlfriend.”

  “And you?” she asked hoarsely. “H-have you been unfaithful to me, too?”

  “You really think you have right to---”

  “Answer the question!” she screamed.

  He shouted back, “No. I wasn’t unfaithful. I just never loved you in the first place.”

  She stumbled back at his words, and she would have fallen if not for the other man being there to catch her.

  “Don’t touch her,” Leandro lashed out before he could stop himself, but the words didn’t even seem to register, the other man’s every moment speaking of fierce protectiveness towards Bobby.

  Bobby didn’t want to cry. She hadn’t even shed a tear when Blaine had dumped her so publicly in high school but oh God, this…she really had thought it was real. “I’m going to answer you now,” she whispered. “Sean is deaf.”

  His heart almost shattered at what that meant. That was why she felt so close to deaf children then. “So you built a foundation for him?”

  “Yes,” she agreed tonelessly. “Because I love my half-brother that much.”

  No.

  How could he have gotten it so wrong?

  By the time Leandro got past the painful shock of how fucking mistaken he had been, Bobby and her half-brother were out of the restaurant. “Bobby?” He ran out, his heart beating furiously. He had to make her understand that he had just been so out of his mind with jealousy that he had leapt to the wrong conclusions.

  He needed to make her understand---

  Leandro skidded to a stop when he saw Bobby standing at the curb while her brother took the keys to his car from the valet.

  He said hoarsely, “Bobby.”

  She turned to him, and that was when Leandro saw she was holding her phone.

  Bobby said dully, “I just received a message from Priscilla – your cousin. She’s been trying to call me but since she couldn’t get to me, she thought she could text me everything about what you did. She’s so very sorry, you see.”

  The phone dropped from her fingers, as if Bobby was too weak to hold on to it.

  And Leandro’s heart dropped with it, knowing that there was a good chance his heart wouldn’t ever recover from seeing the pain that he had caused Bobby.

  Part II

  Prologue

  “O Theos na ton anapafsi.”

  May God rest his soul, and the hundreds of invited guests murmured them over and over to the family of the deceased. Their soft voices echoed throughout the hallowed halls of the church, their tones painfully bleak.

  Tyler shifted uncomfortably on his feet and pulled on his collar. He knew he should be thankful, being one of the lucky few who had been selected to cover the first death anniversary of Greece’s most beloved public official. But if Tyler was honest, he would rather be covering the opening of the 10 millionth hotdog stand in Central Park. Memorial services depressed the hell out of him, and this one was fast proving to be one of the most depressing.

  Everyone inside the church had grim looks on their faces. If he didn’t know better, he’d have assumed Orion Christopoulos had just died yesterday instead of a year ago. Had Orion Christopoulos really that been great, Tyler wondered. Since his job only required him to follow society gossip, Tyler had no idea at all about politics, much less news that had to do with governments outside America.

  A shadow fell over Tyler, briefly covering the light streaming from the stained glass walls of the church’s balcony. When he looked up, Tyler did his very best not to gape.

  Leandro Christopoulos.

  It really was him!

  Tyler nodded to his cameraman, who immediately raised his camera to his shoulder and zoomed in on the Christopoulos heir.

  Tyler giddily took in his fill of the billionaire swiftly making his way to the podium. Tall, dark-haired, and olive skinned, Leandro was very much like the Greek god he was often called by his fans worldwide. Dressed entirely in black, he cut an imposing figure, his presence so magnetic and strong it felt like he was omnipotent.

  There was a look of deep respect in most of the locals’ eyes as they gazed at Leandro, almost like they wanted to bow down as the new head of the Christopoulos family walked past them.

  When Leandro came to stand behind the microphone, Tyler heard the women next to him inhale sharply, the sound akin to someone who, after living in darkness for so long, just had a glimpse of the sun.

  In all honesty, that was how the past twelve months had felt like, Tyler thought. He was a proud member of the Leandro Christopoulos fans club and had been one of the millions heartbroken upon learning that Leandro was joining his family as they withdrew from the public while in mourning.

  Not a single picture of any of them surfaced in the media, which was why the press had gone crazy when the announcement about Orion Christopoulos’ death anniversary had been released. After one long year of being starved from any semi-naked and sweaty photos of one of the world’s most infamous bikers, the public was willing to pay just about anything to catch a glimpse of him.

  As Leandro spoke of his gratitude for those who had come to honor his father’s passing, Tyler was content to just stare at the billionaire. His cameraman could fill him in later about whatever it was that Leandro said. Now, all he wanted to do was daydream and pretend that he was the one girl allowed to be with Leandro during the past year.

  According to those close to the family, Leandro, his younger sister, and his mother had worn black every day of their mourning as well as refrained from attending any social gathering.

  There were also rumors about how the Christopoulos family had made personal sacrifices as a way of exhibiting their deep sorrows over Orion’s passing. Tyler had heard from the grapevine that Orion’s widow had gone on a year-long fast, the young girl had taken to studying at home, while Leandro…

  What had Leandro Christopoulos sacrificed? Tyler pondered with a frown. Maybe he went off womanizing? He still remembered Leandro’s younger days fondly. Every time Leandro had won a race, he would take off his shirt and throw it to the crowd. Catfights always erupted after that because everyone knew whoever could bring his shirt back to Leandro would have the privilege of sleeping with him that night. As for the rest, well, they had the consolation of being able to gawk at Leandro’s half-naked body.

  Those days were the best, Tyler thought with another inner sigh. Leandro Christopoulos had been the wildest of wild cards, taking every
kind of dare and challenge thrown at him. And, oh, the parties he had thrown and the stories that always emerged after, of his prowess in the bedroom. Once, there had even been a rumor going on about Leandro’s ability to make a woman come in five minutes. Leandro had denied it on camera – and then proceeded to prove to the sexy reporter that he was able to do it in less by making her come in three and a half.

  Tyler was abruptly pulled out of his memories when he heard the minister declaring that the service was over. That only meant one thing – the short interview that Leandro Christopoulos had promised to grant after the service would finally start.

  He immediately shot forward, wanting to be the first to reach the billionaire, but just as swiftly, Leandro was surrounded by his security team. From the corner of his eye, Tyler saw another group of security officers drawing away Leandro’s mother and sister and leading them to the side exit of the church. Tyler squashed a pang of regret. It would have been nice if he could have interviewed Leandro’s younger sister, too. He had heard a juicy rumor about her, and what a coup it would be if he could confirm its truth.

  “Tyler Jenkins?”

  Tyler’s head snapped towards the voice, and he paled when he realized that Leandro Christopoulos was speaking to him. Shit. Was he in some kind of trouble here? Or maybe Greek billionaires like Leandro Christopoulos were homophobic and he hadn’t known about it? And how the hell did Leandro know his name? Sure, he had heard about Leandro being some kind of ruthlessly intelligent tycoon – the kind you didn’t cross, but did that also mean he had some kind of super memory powers?

  As far as he could remember, Tyler had only been introduced to the billionaire once. He was one of thousands of reporters introduced to the other man, and yet Leandro knew his full name. Tyler wondered nervously if it meant he had committed some kind of faux pas unknowingly. Although he was far from being an expert when it came to Greek society, what little he knew told him that a Christopoulos’ word here was law.

  When he realized that everyone was staring at him and Leandro Christopoulos was waiting for him to speak, Tyler stammered, “M-my c-condolences, sir.”

  The Greek billionaire only nodded and asked mildly, “Do you have a question? You were the first one to reach me, and so it is only fair that I allow you to start the interview.”

  Tyler gulped. God, he felt like he was being eyed by a shark. An extremely powerful shark, one who could snap him into pieces if he wanted to. Tyler had to remind himself several times that he was in his mid-thirties and was thus a decade older than the Greek billionaire. He was the mature one here, he told himself firmly. Maturity and experience always counted. He shouldn’t be intimidated by this boy.

  But when he looked back at the “boy”, Tyler’s courage fled.

  Leandro Christopoulos might have been a boy once – might have been a carefree daredevil playboy in the past, but he had changed now.

  Maybe it was the loss of his father. The passing of time. Maybe it was even the alleged loss of his first love Bobby Granger. It could be anything, but one thing was very clear – Leandro Christopoulos was not the same man he had been a year ago.

  “Your question, Mr. Jenkins?” Leandro asked.

  The tone was threaded with the slightest hint of impatience, making Tyler even more nervous. He blurted out unthinkingly, “Wh-what do you think of Sabastian Gabris?”

  The crowd of reporters behind him collectively drew their breaths at the same time Tyler did. He wanted to bang his head on the wall. Oh God, now he was in for it, Tyler thought fearfully. Why the hell had he asked that of all things? Everyone knew---

  “Sabastian Gabris?”

  Tyler slowly peeked at Leandro’s face and almost gaped at the other man’s look of puzzlement. Oh dear Lord – did that mean everyone but Leandro Christopoulos knew about Sabastian Gabris?

  “We have been rivals in the past,” Leandro said. “But I don’t see what he has to do with me now.”

  Before Tyler could figure out how to answer that, another reporter was already handing Leandro an iPad. Tyler caught a glimpse of what was on the screen and gulped at the headlines.

  SABASTIAN GABRIS AND BOBBY GRANGER – SECRETLY DATING?

  Someone yelped in the crowd.

  It was the owner of the iPad and when Tyler looked back at Leandro, he realized with a wince that the billionaire’s grip had been so strong he had left a very visible dent on the screen.

  Leandro Christopoulos slowly forced his fingers to loosen its grip on the iPad and handed it back to its unfortunate owner. “You will be compensated for that,” he heard himself murmuring before swiftly turning around and heading to the side doors of the church.

  The crowd of reporters protested loudly, shouting questions and complaining about him not keeping his word.

  The noise they made was deafening, but Leandro didn’t really hear a word of what they were saying. All he was aware of right now was Bobby. His Bobby. His Bobby, caught on camera in the arms of another man.

  His chest felt like it was caving in at the tortuous pain the image evoked.

  No. Fuck no. It couldn’t fucking be true.

  Chapter 1

  Inhale, exhale.

  “You can do this,” Roberta “Bobby” Granger muttered as she gave her reflection a Mean Look in the mirror. People who worked for her always told Bobby her Mean Looks were very effective, that they were so scary it forced everyone to do what she wanted. Hopefully, her Mean Look would also work on her stubborn heart.

  The sudden loud banging on the door made Bobby jump. “Jeez, Bobby, are you doing Number 2 or what?”

  No. She was not doing Number 2. What she was doing was Number Zero, which meant she was this close to drowning herself in the toilet bowl until she choked and died. That was a lot better than what – who – waited for her outside.

  “Bobby!”

  She took another deep breath. “You can do this, Bobby. You’re a strong woman. You can’t be affected. You don’t love him anymore.” And today was the most important day to prove it.

  F looked at her oddly as she emerged from the powder room. “Are you okay?”

  F wasn’t his real name, but it was how her boss wanted to be called. According to society gossip, F stood for three things: French, Fashion, and “Fuck You”, which the sixty-something self-made millionaire liked to say to every lazy-ass individual he happened to meet.

  “Bobby?”

  No, of course she was not freaking okay. She had just found out that her ex-boyfriend was in America when all this time, she thought an entire ocean still stood between them. How the hell could she be okay? She needed that much space from him to survive. And now, that space was gone.

  But out loud all she said was, “I’m really fine. You’ve got nothing to worry about.” She had her pride, after all.

  “Truthfully, Bobby, between Nessa and me, it wouldn’t be too hard to pick the bikers for the opening act before the race.”

  Today was the last day of auditions for bikers to make up their next fundraiser’s opening act, and Bobby’s conscience wouldn’t allow her to bail at the last minute, knowing Nessa and F’s weakness for sexy men in leather. “I can’t trust the two of you to do this right. You’d probably end up picking the hottest-looking bikers and never mind if the only kind of bike they can ride are those with training wheels.”

  F harrumphed. “You wound me.” Her boss started walking, leaving Bobby no choice but to reluctantly fall into step next to him. Each step made it more difficult for her to breathe. She started to wonder if he would feel the same at the thought of meeting her again, after all this time, but pushed the thought away a moment later.

  Just because they were now both on the same continent didn’t mean he was back in her life again.

  He wasn’t.

  He couldn’t ever be again.

  Before exiting the dugout, F’s steps halted and when she looked at him questioningly, he said in a more sober tone, “I’m serious, Bobby. I thought you knew since the news c
ame out last night---”

  She explained tonelessly, “I was asleep when the news broke out. And by the time I realized…he was here, I just couldn’t make myself…” Bobby inhaled deeply. “I just don’t want him to think I’m still affected.”

  Not wanting to talk anymore about The Person Who Didn’t Deserve to be Named, Bobby took the first step out of the dugout. Harsh afternoon sunlight immediately blazed down on her, and she shielded her gaze as if the brightness was hurting her eyes. In truth, however, she just wanted a moment to compose herself – a moment to school her expression so that every darn reporter zealously waiting for her to react would have nothing to gossip about.

  Because that was how she felt.

  How he had left her feeling.

  Nothing.

  When F reached her side, they began walking together, both of them ignoring the paps in silent agreement. It wasn’t like they hadn’t done this before. F was one of the few openly gay millionaires in the world, and just a few months ago, it had been F targeted by the press when word broke out that his long-term partner had embezzled money from him. That time, it had been Bobby who helped him pick up the pieces. Now, F considered it his turn to return the favor.

  Dozens of camera bulbs were furiously flashing, their lenses zoomed in, all of the reporters desperate to catch a possible glimpse of the philanthropic heiress’ reaction. Bobby Granger was still an enigma to them. She was so unfashionable, almost fat, and very dull, with not a scandal attached to her name. How in the world had she made someone like Leandro Christopoulos fall in love with her? Could it be true that all this time the Greek billionaire had even pined for her? And how was it that she had managed to do it again, capturing the heart of yet another beautiful Greek god?

  Life was so very unfair, the more malicious members of the lot thought, and so they glared as Bobby Granger walked past them at a leisurely pace.

  “They hate you,” F whispered to her cheerfully as they joined the rest of the staff at the center of the circuit. He was of the mind that any publicity was good publicity. Although he hurt for Bobby, his mind was already trying to come up with ways on how to turn this sudden furor of the media over Bobby to the foundation’s advantage.