The Billionaire's Maid in Disguise

Thirty One - "Why me, Kristov?"

Chapter Thirty One

Kristov's POV

I could not help but smile thinking of Pia and her birthday surprise. I wondered what it was.

She always made me smile. Ever since I came back here in New York, and saw her outside the front door early morning after my drive uphill, she always amused me. Her disguise could not fool me. Behind that beige powder, morbid red lipstick and thick black rimmed eyeglasses, I always knew that she was the same Pia Rosi, the girl I saw sleeping in my garden.

I tried to break her shell, making her admit her disguise to me. But she was tough and very smart to come up with good explanations.

I admit, I was cruel and sometimes, cold to her. I'm not a perfect man. I have hang ups, insecurities, frustrations and failures in life too. I tried, but it's hard to leave behind the shadows in my past.

My thoughts diverted to my dream last night. I was back at the accident scene nine years ago. It was so real. Mom's image was so vivid. Her smile plastered on her face as she told me how proud she was of me.

We were waiting for Anton to arrive outside the St. Albert Convention Hall. He insisted on picking us up, because he felt guilty of joining his friends in the bar, instead of coming with us.

"Your birthday is coming up next month, and I'm planning for us to have a short trip to Japan. What do you think?" Mom asked, trying to pass the time by waiting too long. Thirty minutes, and Anton kept on telling us on the phone that he's very near.

"Sure, I'm always fascinated with Japan's culture. I would also love to visit museums and look at the Japanese style of art painting."

"That's the idea, to expose you to a variety of painting styles. You'll be the next Leonardo da Vinci, Kristov. You'll be a very famous and sought after art painter in the world."

"Thank you Mom for believing in me."

"Of course! You've proven it today. All the art painting experts were so impressed with your work."

She continued to tell me everything she heard in the venue. She was so proud of me, and encouraged me to hone my craft.

"When are we going to Japan?"

"I'll ask my assistant to book us a flight in two weeks. Just you and me. We can't drag Anton with us anymore, he's very busy running the company now with your dad."

"Of course," I agreed, then I saw the car coming, "speaking of the devil, he's finally here."

"Sorry, something came up, and I..." he raised his hands in a gesture of annoyance, dismissing the need to explain. He was flushing, and smelled of alcohol and feminine perfume.

"It's okay. I just need to go home. My God, it's freezing in here," Mom said as she settled in the backseat, "turn the heater up, Anton."

"Yes, mother dear," Anton adjusted the temperature, and he muttered, "this will make me more sleepy."

"I'll drive," I offered, but he wouldn't let me,

"Just relax and enjoy the ride, little brother," he congratulated me, "I'm so proud of you. I told you, you're a fucking gifted son of the devil! Spread your wings, Kristov. Soar high."

Before I could answer him, Mom said,

"Stop calling your dad a devil, Anton. He'll be very disappointed if he hears you."

He laughed aloud, and everything went blur.

I woke up feeling sadder. The emptiness was there, like a big hole in my heart.