BABY DADDY (21 page)

“Look now, baby.”

I open my eyes slowly and let my vision go past the glass windows.

I thought I would have vertigo again but all is see is an endless blanket of blue waters. We’re facing the sea.

“Oh wow…” I can only gasp faintly.

Raiden pushes a button and our seat slowly turns, reversing our position. We’re now facing the island.

Our cab continues to ascend. I completely forget my fear as my eyes are filled with nature’s wonders. I push the button myself to enjoy the 360-degree view.

I settle on the cushioned seat, half of my torso resting on his lap as I stare out the window to his side. I feel his fingers combing through my hair, massaging my scalp. I’m lulled to serenity by his touch and the beauty of the island below.

Yes. Serenity. Fancy word. I know what it means but I really don’t know how it feels. But this must be the closest I can get to that feeling.

“This place is a paradise. No wonder you never want to leave.”

“I do leave when I join competitions abroad. I used to be in Florida a lot competing. Or when I got commissioned for projects.”

“Where did you study sculpting, by the way?”

“Sculpting came naturally to me. Mother is an artist and she taught me how to draw the moment I could hold crayons. I studied architecture at the University of Singapore.”

“I thought you studied in England. You have a slight British accent.”

“It’s because I was home-schooled by British teachers until high school. Singapore was a British colony many years ago. My professors in college were mostly British or Asians educated in England.”

I shouldn’t ask, but I cannot help myself any longer. I want to get a glimpse of his past, too. Even just a little. “Why were you home-schooled?”

Contrary to what I first thought, he doesn’t even hesitate to answer.

“My father was over-protective. He didn’t want me to leave the island for school at such a young age. So he imported a school for me here. He died just after I finished high school. Mother decided to send me outside for college, to experience life as a commo…away from her. She said I needed to live with people in a normal environment. It builds character, she’d said. She was right. It was a great experience. But I spent most of my childhood here in the island.”

“Wasn’t that very lonely for you?”

“Not really. My parents and I traveled a lot when I was young. I’ve seen most of Europe and Scandinavia. Even Africa, the Middle East and most of Asia. But my art kept me busy here most of the time.”

Maybe I’m just the one who has an issue about asking him questions. He doesn’t sound like he wants to hide something from me. He talks about his parents casually, like there’s no secrecy surrounding his birth. “What about friends? Didn’t you crave that?”

“My mother is my best friend.”

“But…you know, friends, male friends your age.”

“I do have a few friends but they’re mostly from other countries and would visit me here once a year, or I go visit them.”

A few friends and a recluse. “You have an unusual childhood. Tell me honestly, don’t you ever get lonely here? I know it’s beautiful and all but…most young men would want to live in the city.”

“I’m not fond of big cities.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Are you happy where you live?”

Okay, I don’t like that question. “I’m the one who asked you a question and you haven’t answered me convincingly yet.”

He’s pensive for a while. “No. My life is far from perfect, but to be lonely? No.”

He says this wistfully while running his fingers in my hair. “I’ve no reason to be lonely. I’ve been privileged all my life and I don’t take my fortune for granted. My father taught me to see the world beyond myself. I’ve seen suffering in those poor, war-torn countries during our trips. For me to feel lonely would be an insult to the people who are truly hurting, who have lost their loved ones violently, who have nothing to eat, who have almost nothing to build on.”

I hold his hand, feeling ashamed for asking. I’m a philanthropist myself but I’ve never looked at it that way.

We both fall into a comfortable silence as the cab moves slowly. We’re at the top now and the view is out of this world spectacular.

Then he surprises me again. “Everything that you see, as far as your eyes can reach…belongs to me. This whole Island is legally mine.”

My heart slams hard against my ribcage. I hope his leg doesn’t feel it. This is it. He’s going to tell me.

I don’t say anything to interrupt his thoughts.

“My father was a great man, a very important man. But I couldn’t and will never exist in his world. You see…” He pauses for a bit, “I’m his love child with my mother.”

I feel a little bad for pretending I have no idea. And I can’t believe he’s really telling me. My God, he’s entrusting me with this huge secret!

“I know, I’m truly that, born from their love. I grew up witnessing that love everyday, until his last breath. How can I even doubt it?”

Why is it that he talks about love and I feel his melancholy?

“My father loved me very much. I knew it hurt him that he could not claim me out in the open. I understood from a very young age that he had huge responsibilities. He had other children much older than I was and they came first. I knew this and I understood. It was only right and fair. My mother was a great teacher in humility. She taught me that the root of all evil is envy. She removed that from my psyche from the beginning.”

I take his right hand and kiss his palm. “She’s an extraordinary woman,” I whisper.

“Yes. Her devotion to my father was absolute. She was at the height of her career but she left all that to be with my father here in this island and live with him quietly, away from the prying eyes of the public. Do you know what it’s called, Ella?”

In this moment, I don’t even pretend not to understand. “Yes. True love.”

I’m facing away from him but I feel his smile. “Yeah. True love.”

I don’t find it cheesy, and my eyes don’t feel the slightest urge to roll, because I know he speaks the truth and this is very important to him. “It’s rare. What they had.”

“Yeah.”

“You’re very lucky with your parents.”

“I am. My father felt so guilty that he cannot make me inherit his public titles, so he bought this island for me and my mother. He built this place so I’ll have my own little kingdom. So I’ll have a place to call my own.”

Kingdom. There. Do I need more proof?

I thought his confirmation will put me at ease. Or even elate me. Yes, Baby Dada is indeed a prince. But it’s having a different effect on me now. I didn’t expect this.

My curiosity is one thing, but having my curiosity satisfied is an entirely new issue I’ve not anticipated to be bugging me.

How ironic that we quest for the truth and when it slaps us in the face, we don’t know how to deal with it.

I really am involved with the son of the late king of Monte Franco. Illegitimate or not, he’s royalty, and I’m Ella Rhodes, a commoner from a small town in New Jersey.

C’mon, a self-made billionaire commoner.

A neurotic, overweight billionaire commoner who has ironically more baggage than the biggest cargo ship floating in the Pacific Ocean.

I sit up again.

I comb my hair with my fingers, hoping he doesn’t see my sudden anxiety. I feel like a drama queen for feeling like this but I just can’t help it. What in hell is this perfect young prince doing with a messed up toad like me?

“Do you have a best friend? The one who really knows you inside out? The one who you tell your most guarded secrets to?”

I’m taken aback by his his sudden question. “No…”

“Not even Sophie?”

I shake my head.

He smiles. “I love being your boyfriend and the father of your child and I love being your best friend now, too.”

I fall silent. What is he talking about?

“Raiden, you’re so cheesy you know that? We’re not best friends,” I reply in a caustic tone, both hating and loving his openness. Doesn’t he have pride? Most men won’t say that, for pete’s sake! Even I won’t be caught dead saying it.

“But you’re now my best friend. You already know my most guarded secrets, I already know yours. That makes us best friends.”

“Not!”

“How do you define a best friend then?”

“I don’t know. It has to be tested by time, I guess. I’ve known you only for more than a week. Come on!”

“Ah there you go with your cynicism again. You measure love by time.”

“Oh? And how do you measure love then, Dalai Lama wannabe?”

“You don’t measure it. You just believe it. Love is like religion. You have to have faith in it even without concrete proof. The proof will come as you go on believing.”

I roll my eyes. “Sorry, I’m a practical, analytical person. I measure everything. How can you love if you’re not being loved back?”

He falls silent.

“You just love and believe it will be returned one day,” he says after a while.

“One day?” I scoff. “You know in business, the words maybe, probably and indefinitely are red flags. There has to be a deadline to everything.”

“True love has no time frame. It’s infinite. It’s wholeheartedly given without expecting anything in return.”

I snort. “You know what they do to martyrs? They shoot them in the back via a firing squad.”

He’s not affected by my sarcasm one bit. “I don’t believe anybody can resist love. Even the most hard-hearted person cannot resist loving back when she receives it from someone who gives it selflessly.”

“You speak like you’ve found true love.”

He pulls me closer to his side again and kisses my hair. “But I have.”

I close my eyes.

Oh God.

He sounds so sure.

The idealism of youth. So courageous. So earnest. So contagious. I want to lap up his optimism. The pureness of his faith. He makes me want to believe.

Almost.

And I’m afraid.

God, I’m so afraid I’ll be the first one to break his heart.

THIRTEEN

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25 CONTROVERSIAL QUOTES FROM THE STYLE EMPRESS

On humility:

Humility and hubris are flip sides of the same coin.

Both aim to achieve the same. Attention.

In the business I’m in, not getting attention is doom.

And luxury is never humility’s favorite companion.

Stella Rhodes

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IF THE RAINFOREST LOOKS MAGNIFICENT
when you’re under the trees, the view from the top is equally breathtaking.

By this time, my vertigo no longer acts up whenever I’m up in the air looking down.

We’re floating above the rainforest on a cable car, slowly traversing the distance. Mist is hovering about and it gives the experience an aura of mystique.

“There’s Punto Fiamma!” I exclaim.

Raiden smiles at me. “Yup.”

“I can see the Sanctuary! Wow, it really looks magnificent from here. Out of this world!”

“I thought you’d like it.”

We pass over a waterfall. The cab lowers in altitude and moves so close to the falls it vibrates slightly. This place is beyond amazing.

“What’s happening down there?” I ask, looking at the foot of the falls where people are crowding in one part.

“That’s where the river rafting starting point is.”

“I wanna try that.”

“Really now? Not scared? It’s a very rough ride.”

“I’m insured.”

He chuckles. “And you’re a very good rider based on my personal experience.”

Normally I’d blush at his naughty innuendos but I’ve quickly learned to match him the past days. It’s one of the things I really enjoy about him. He’s always laughing and making me laugh. We haven’t had any dull moments so far. “And you’ve been a really good pony.”

“Pony?!” he protests as if insulted. “Not a stallion?”

“I love ponies. They respond better to their masters.”

He growls. “Is that so?”

I see the wicked gleam in his eyes and my body reacts immediately. I’m like a purring engine around him, ready for action the moment he wants a spin.

“You’re gonna pay for that remark later.”

“Promise?” I lie down on his lap and face his crotch.

He chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re very naughty, Stella Rhodes.”

I rub my face on his fly like a kitten.

“Woman, don’t do that. I don’t wanna see my Master with a boner.”

“Master? I’m your master.”

“Well, I have another one I’d like you to meet, too. Behave.”

“What is this place?”
I
ask as he guides me along a narrow strip of road lined on both sides by bougainvilleas in full bloom. It’s straight out of Neverland.