The Russian Billionaire’s Secret(82)

“All passengers are requested to remain seated. Cynthia Dyson, please make your way to the front exit.”

Cynthia was surprised. She knew this was unusual, people were not called separately to report to the exit. She wondered what was wrong. Had she done something wrong? Had she missed something? Were they going to deport her?

A staircase was attached to the exit and the door was opened. A gentleman in a black suit and black glasses, with his hair slicked back, greeted her on the top of the staircase.

“Ms. Cynthia Dyson?”

“Yes.”

“Please follow me.”

He whispered something into a mic attached to his collar and descended ahead of Cynthia. As they reached the bottom of the staircase, a black BMW pulled up. The man opened the door for Cynthia and she got in. He closed the door and got in the front seat. The car went a short distance and stopped. The man in the black suit opened the door for her again, and again he asked her to follow him.

A black chopper waited for them at the helipad in front of them. The man in the black suit held the door open for her.

“Get in, ma’am.”

“But where are you taking me?”

“You are flying to Mr. Wyss’s private estate.”

“You must have me confused with someone else. I am here to see my friend Matt.”

“Yes, Mr. Matthew Wyss has arranged for you to be taken to his estate.”

Cynthia got in the chopper, was given a headpiece to cover her ears, and the door closed behind her. The man in the black suit signaled to the pilot and the chopper took off. The world zoomed out of her view again and Cynthia saw Switzerland through an eagle’s eye, marveling at everything she saw. The chopper headed toward the Swiss Alps and then began its descent. A clearing soon appeared, and as the chopper descended, more and more things came into view. A mansion arose from the trees, and soon she saw an ‘H’ sign on the floor, where the chopper was to land.

The pilot muttered into the headpiece and landed the chopper. Another man in a black suit appeared, held the door open for her, and helped her out of the plane. A limousine was waiting for her. She was whisked away in the limousine, another 5-minute drive, and finally stopped in front of the mansion.

A butler arrived and took her into the magnificent mansion. “Please wait here,” he said, showing her into the living room. “Mr. Wyss will be here shortly.”

Cynthia’s 5-star hotel was nothing compared to this living room. A large chandelier hung from the high ceiling, the lights sparkling and reflecting off the prisms. As she took a seat, she sank into the chair. It was cold in Switzerland, and if the snow on the trees and the mountains was any indication, it was going to be this way for the duration of her stay.

A young man arrived with some wood and placed it into the fireplace, lighting the fire. A beautiful middle-aged woman with her hair tied into a knot arrived; she was followed by several young girls carrying dishes who set the table. The room immediately filled with delicious smells and Cynthia started feeling hungry. A sparkling wine—the bottled stars, she noticed—was brought and placed on the coffee table.

Cynthia started pacing the room. She stopped by a portrait of someone who looked like an older version of Matt Wyss. As she examined the portrait, a new smell filled the air.

She knew to whom the smell belonged.

It was him.

It was Matt’s cologne.

It was Matt.

She turned around and found Matt standing right behind her. She smiled. He grinned. Their lips locked as they embraced each other after all these years.

Chapter 7

Will You?

“You must be exhausted,” said Matt. Cynthia refused to allow the distraction.

“You have a lot of explaining to do, mister,” said Cynthia.

“I do, I know, but let’s eat first.”

“Sure.”

Cynthia and Matt ate heartily and sipped the bottled stars together. They kept stealing glances, shooting looks to each other all through the meal. Once they had eaten, Matt rang a bell and the servants arrived and cleaned the table. When they left, Matt and Cynthia began talking.

Matt sat on the sofa. Cynthia walked and was about to sit when Matt spoke.

“Come, sit here,” he said, patting on his lap.

Cynthia blushed but went to sit on his lap. A familiar warmth ran through her as Matt wrapped his arm around her.

“Why did you not write sooner?”

“My father died. I was the heir. There was a lot of legal trouble and I have just come out of it. I did not want to drag you in any of it.”

“And what is all this? How did you…”

“Not me, Cynthia, my father. This is all his work. I never wanted any part of it, but it would be stupid to say no to billions of dollars, wouldn’t it?”

“Yes, it would.”

Cynthia opened her mouth to speak again, but Matt placed his lips on hers.

Cynthia’s hair was tied in a ponytail. Matt let her hair loose and he ran one hand through her hair, and unbuttoned her shirt with the other. She, at the same time, grabbed his shirt from both sides and pulled hard, the buttons breaking loose and falling on the floor.

He smiled a savage grin, revealing a row of pearly white teeth.

“You have gotten wilder since I last saw you,” he said.

“Have I?” she replied playfully.

Matt kissed her over and over, all over her face. “My dear, oh how I have missed you.”