The Billionaire’s Pretend Fiancée

Roman’s POV

“Hey, man.” I greeted as Damien walked in with his boxing gloves hooked around his arms, and a water bottle in his other hand.

We were in a private gym downtown to catch up on everything that’s been going on in each other’s lives.

“Greece really did great on your skin. It’s no longer as pale as a vampire’s and you somewhat look slightly human. Welcome back, my friend.” He clapped my back before placing his boxing gloves down, and climbing onto the treadmill.

“Yeah, I guess so. Nana said the same thing, so how has everything been?” I muttered, delivering a jab to the punching bag hanging in front of me.

“I’ve been confused and quite stressed about everything lately, and I also feel like the worst scum on earth.” He gritted out as the speed of the treadmill increased.

I stopped punching the punching bag for a second and stood with my hands akimbo, “What happened, man? Did your mother-in-law say something to you again?”

Damien’s wife, Chloe, died about five years ago from childbirth complications, and ever since then, Damien and his mother-in-law had been on bad terms with each other because she blamed her daughter’s death on him.

I’ve known Damien for a greater part of my life, and I had never heard him utter so much profanities in a sentence before, so something was clearly wrong somewhere.

Damien turned off the machine and moved on to the other punching bag in the room, “No, she didn’t say anything. It’s been months since we last spoke and her words don’t bug me anymore. Frankly, it would be better if she was the cause of my fucking frustration right now.” He explained as he put on his boxing gloves.

I watched him closely for a few minutes as he continuously punched, and kicked the punching bag angrily while muttering obscenities.

This really wasn’t like Damien at all.

“Hey, bro. Get off that bag right now before you burst it.” I said as I plopped onto a bench.

“I can easily buy another one. This is the only way I can unleash my anger, and disappointment in myself.” He said, to which I huffed.

“When did you get so violent and careless? Shouldn’t I be the reckless one here?” I scoffed, and he paused briefly to stare with an unfathomable expression at me before he continued assaulting the punching bag.

“Damien, get over her right now. At the rate you are going, you may end up tearing a nerve before you destroy the punching bag. You are clearly mad about something or someone yet you won’t tell me.” I said as he finally did as I said, and rolled the gloves off his hand.

His face twisted into a snarl as he sat down next to me, “I don’t know, man. I really fucked everything up. I’ve been holding on, and doing so well for four years now and I-I just had to mess up.” He sighed and buried his head in his hands.

I patted his back, “You can tell me everything, man. I will try my best to give you reasonable advice, and I promise I won’t judge.”

He observed my face as if to detect some evidence of sarcasm in my eyes, “Alright, here goes nothing.” He muttered.

“I’m all ears, Damien.”

“Remember I told you about the new secretary I hired a couple of months ago.” He started, and I nodded.

Of course, I did.

His most-trusted employee and secretary of many years had resigned some months back to further his education, and Damien had hired a new secretary, albeit reluctantly.

He mirrored my gesture, “I made a stupid mistake with her last night, bro,” Averting his stare away from me, he mumbled, “I was drunk and I know that’s not even a logical excuse for this bullcrap of a situation that I’ve successfully tossed myself into but I desperately want to blame my foolishness on alcohol.”

The situation was gradually becoming clearer, but I didn’t want to quickly assume things nor did I want to put words into Damien’s mouth, so I just nodded and motioned him to continue speaking.

“Roman, I slept with her last night at the fucking senatorial dinner she accompanied me to. I had too much to drink and I acted like a bloody son of a bitch by sticking my dick into my fucking secretary. Just thinking about it makes me want to ram myself into the nearest wall.” He rambled out and my jaw slacked in mild shock.

“I won’t lie to you, man. That’s kinda crazy, I never pinned you as a one night stand type of guy but I guess things happen when you least expect them to but you shouldn’t beat yourself too much over this.” I started, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“I’ve been trying to gaslight my mind into doing that but I just can’t seem to. I feel like I’ve betrayed both Chloe and our baby. I should have never gone to that damn dinner in the first place, it got me into this fucking mess.” He groaned, his shoulder tensing under my palm.

“Calm down, Damien. You are a full-grown man with blood running through your veins and we both know it’s natural for you to err-you know.” I gestured with both hands, and he nodded.

“I do. But how do I stop the guilt?”

“You have to forgive yourself first, Damien and let go of the past. Chloe wouldn’t want you beating yourself up over something like this, she’d always want you to be happy. I’m not asking you to cast her memories aside or anything, I just want you to free your mind and be happy, man. If you can’t do it for yourself, at least do it for her.” I said, and he sighed but nodded.Text property © Nôvel(D)ra/ma.Org.

“I’ll try. Thanks for this, man. I really needed it.” He flashed a wan smile at me which I reciprocated with a back pat.

“No problem, bro. You know I’m always here for you whenever you need me.”

He nodded, “By the way, I almost forgot to ask about Sofie. How is she doing?”

A smile curved my lips at Damien’s question, “She’s doing great as usual.”

I tilted my head to look at him and he darted a mischievous smile at me as he nodded.

The cheeky Damien I knew was back.

“What?” I huffed.

He raised his hands up in surrender, “Nothing, my friend. I was just thinking about something.”

To prevent further questions, I hoisted myself up from the bench, put on my gloves and trekked back to the punching bag, “Get off your ass and come over here right now.” I muttered, ignoring his widening grin.

“Yes, sir,” He gave a mock salute before climbing the treadmill.