The Millionaire's Secret by jewel crotan (best romantic novels to read TXT) 📕

 “Ooo,” Behati was sitting on the counter, wrapped a cardigan and leggings, and texting on her blackberry when she let out a noise of excitement. In the past 2 weeks, the Katz home had become a comfortable place, where she could do away with the makeup and public personality, to be comfortable. The leggings were skintight and the sweater was dangerously low cut, but she still looked warmer than she did when she had walked in the door. Adam looked up from where he was stirring pasta over the stove, the boys taking a break for dinner. “Etalk wants to do a story on me. Can they film it here?”

 Adam glanced around as if she had just asked him what the time was. Keith, sitting in the kitchen working on college courses, looked up with a snap.

 “What, really?” He knocked his textbook off the counter in excitement. Adam smirked.

 “Keith, you were well aware Behati had some celebrity, there’s no reason to behave that way.”

 “But to have a big new channel here, filming in our home? Of course you can! Can I be in it?”

 Behati grinned.

 “Sure you can.”

 “Behati,” Adam said. “This house is well known for being our residence. Are you sure you want to film an interview here?”

 “It won’t air for a month,” she said, scrolling down the email. “By then, all of this crap will be over.”

 “What crap?” Keith asked and Adam gave her a look, to silence her. While they were farther ahead in the divorce proceedings than before, they still had a long way to go. And if they had their way, no one would know that they were married at all.

 “A month? Perhaps that would be alright,” Adam replied. “Rick is the one who handles all of our media relations. If you need some help, he could assist you.”

 “I think I just have to reply to this email,” she replied. “And my agent will set it up. But cool, thanks.”

 “And then we can say we knew you!” Keith said and she laughed.

 “You can say that anyways,” she replied, leaning her head against the counter and closing her eyes. This moment felt perfect. She was warm, and happy and having fun. There was good food cooking and she was going out that night to a party that promised to end with sunrise. There was only one more thing that would make it more perfect; the floating feeling of bliss that came with a chemical high. Then she could really enjoy herself. Everything would be unparallel and wonderful if she could feel like she was walking on air.

 She hopped off the counter and was about to head to the stairs when Adam called to her.

 “Everything is almost ready.”

 “I’ll be right back,” she said, in a sing song voice, heading up the winding stair case. It was taking more and more to achieve the high she wanted, and she was almost out. But tonight, at the party, she was promised a new supply, with a better cut too.

 The second she injected herself, pushing the syringe half way, she knew something was wrong. She felt like her heart was going to pound out of her chest, and her stomach flipped over. She took a deep breath, and then another, but nothing was working.  

In a clatter, crashing into a wall, she barely made it to the bathroom before she threw up, hurling up every chip that she had eaten in the afternoon and even the scrambled eggs at breakfast.

 The world was going hazy, and she clutched the counter, slamming her knee into the counter and knowing it would leave a bruise. In her haste to grab a hold of something, she took the tension rod shower curtain down with her, in a giant crash. There were spots, large black spots, and she felt like her vision was tripled.

 Her head was millimeters away from smashing into the toilet bowl when strong arms caught her, in a jolt.

 “Woah, woah. I got you, love.”

 It was Liam, the middle brother, who caught her, his wiry arms proving stronger than they looked. He lowered her to the ground carefully, keen eyes going over her to make sure there was no immediate danger.

 “Liam, I…I…” she was panting and couldn’t get the words properly out. He put a cool hand to her forehead, brushing away sweaty hair.

 “Sssh, it’s ok,” he said, his voice remaining calm. “Adam!” he called, although it wasn’t in a panic. “Adam, can you come up here please?”

 Behati appreciated the level of calm in his voice, because if he started to panic, she was pretty sure that she would as well. She didn’t know what was happening to her, and she was terrified she was going to expire, then and there, in an ugly sweater and black eyeliner. But underneath the fear, her mouth still salivated for the high she would have gotten, had something not gone wrong. Her nails twitch, scratching at her skin to try and distract herself, even as Adam came thundering into the bathroom.

 Her head was clearing, and she figured that she had just done too much too fast. Her system had rejected it, and already, she felt like she could sit up.

 The first thing that came into focus was Adam’s concern, his eyes wide and his face frantic. She tried to smile, to reassure him.

 “I’m ok, it’s ok. I just got a little dizzy.”

 “Should I call 9-1-1?” Liam had the cordless phone in his hand, hovering over them.

 “It’s ok, really,” Behati managed, her mouth dry. “I just think that I didn’t eat enough today. I’m fine, please.” She forced a smile on her face, as Adam helped her sit up.

 “You’re bleeding,” he said, looking at her arm, and she immediately covered it up with her hand.

 “Must have knocked it somewhere. No big deal. I’m alright, really. Is dinner ready?”

 She was a performer, used to rolling with whatever happened. But what kept her going, although she did not have the energy to keep talking, was the thought that she might be kept inside tonight, kept from getting a new stash. And if Adam wanted a guaranteed reason to divorce her, she would give him one right there and then.

 “Why don’t I help you to your room and you can rest before dinner?” he asked, taking her under the arm and helping her up.

 “Uh, maybe, what time is it?”

 “It’s only 5:30, darling, relax,” he wrapped his arms around her, kissing her forehead, and she closed her eyes. She was tired, and it was nice to have someone to take care of her. There had been too many nights of lonely hotel rooms, or even men who left when they were done with her. It was hard to get warm without someone else’s body heat, even when there was enough blankets to kill a horse. She relaxed into his arms, letting him take her to the bedroom. At the last minute, in the hall, however, she made a dive for the split.

 “Take me to your room, it’s more comfy,” the last thing that she wanted was to have him walk in on broken needles and pieces of glass. She didn’t know what state she left the room in, but it was guaranteed that there was some evidence lying around.

 Luckily, he didn’t question her preference, and steered her into his master bedroom, the king size bed light and fluffy and inviting.

 “I’m alright, I’m not going to break,” she said, reassured, as he sat her on the bed. At her insistence, he sat beside her, and she rested her head on his chest. His voice had a deep rumbling tone in it as he spoke.

 “I am worried about you, Behati. You have become awful thin lately. Are you sure you’re alright?”

 “Just need to stuff my face more,” she yawned. “Besides, what do you care?”

 He smiled.

 “I care because I…”

 And then he stopped himself, before the words came out. She pulled up to look at him so fast that her head spun. She fought the momentary dizziness however, in the seriousness of the moment.

“Because you what?”

 He opened his mouth and then closed it, after a moment.

 “I’ve know you 10 years, Behati, and whether you like it or not, we did take vows. It’s built into a man to care about his wife.”

 “No,” she snapped at him, her eyes widening. “Those vows weren’t real, Adam. Have you got so caught up in the charade that you’ve believed your own lies?”

 “I have not forgotten the reason for our marriage, Behati. But after 10 years, you don’t just let someone die on your bathroom floor.”

 She coloured.

 “I wasn’t going to die, Adam. Don’t be silly.”

 “Of course,” he pulled himself off the bed. “And if you are so cold and callous, why haven’t you found a hotel room and shown up in black sunglasses every day with a frosty air?”

 “What?” her mouth dropped. “It isn’t like that, you know that. I just don’t want you thinking this is something it’s not.”

 “I was burned by love once, my dear, and I will not make the mistake again,” he replied, bitterly. “Anyone who feels that way over another person is a fool, setting themselves up for disaster.”

 “Well…good,” she had no come back to that, and so she let it be, leaning against the pillows. “I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

 “Quite,” he replied, heading for the door. “You seem better now. Come down when you are ready.”

 “I will,” she called, and fiddled with her nails until he left. And then she let out a giant sigh. That was the closest they had come to saying anything real to each other, and it scared her.

 Of course, they were emotional, she told herself, something scary just happened. It was expected, and she shouldn’t look into it further. Adam was a rich man, a king among men, and he had gotten a bit emotional and had a bit too much to drink one night and married her as a casual favour, that was all. And she had accepted his offer because she loved dance more than anything in the world. What a different person she had been then, when it was the dance that fueled her and not the drugs. What a different heart she had then, when it was music and not chemicals that drove her emotions.

 But that girl was weak, and vulnerable, two things she promised herself that she would never be again.

 She didn’t say a word to him when she left the house that night, although it was clear he wanted her to. But Behati’s mind was on one thing and one thing alone, and she was gone before he could even bid her goodbye.

 “You’re mopey,” Liam said, as they chose that night to stay in. “Especially for a man who just made a million dollars at the snap of his finger. Could it be the impending arrival of mother, or the fact that your redhead dancer has gone out without you?”

 “Neither,” Adam said, carelessly. “Although this house is a mess, we will have to have it cleaned at some point. You know, despite being grown adults, whenever mother comes around, I still feel like a child. Especially when she scolds me.”

 “No doubt she will scold us, for whatever reason,” Liam replied. “Everything is perfectly in place for the welcome home ball she wants to have, we’ve executed her every move, and yet somehow, we will be in trouble.”

 “I don’t doubt it. Ah, if only I was Keith, the one who can do no wrong,” Adam said, glancing to where his younger brother was