Rapine 2: Ravished by the Billionaire (The Trophy Wife) (23 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

We’ve arrived in Berlin, Germany and we are staying at a five star hotel owned by Julian. As we walk through the foyer, I am breathless and speechless at the interior design of the hotel. I’ve never seen such unique, sophisticated, opulent, and luxurious style in my life. It’s way ahead of its time, revolutionary, and over-the-top modern. It’s all gold, glass, beige and steel with 20 meter tall glass walls and extraordinarily high ceilings with dim gold and red lighting and black marble floors. There are stainless steel oddly shaped sculptures and decorations. The furniture of the entire hotel is composed of a variety of pieces—clear glass, stainless steel, some are stone, and some are dark wood.

Julian leads me through the hotel’s lobby to the
large curved reception desk. I am clinging to Julian’s side, gazing around. We check in and are guided up to our suite by the female manager of the hotel. She looks at me respectfully in the glass elevator up to our suite. She opens the door to our hotel suite for us and hands Julian the key card.

Our presidential suite
is exceptionally beautiful with high ceilings and shiny black marble floors. There are glass walls on every side and floor to ceiling windows overlooking the city.

A
s Julian walks and talks me through the suite, showing me around, I hear the echo of our feet and Julian’s voice in the entire suite because it’s so large and nearly empty—minimalistic style. The suite is dimly lit with blue lights in the living room, purple lightening in the den, and golden lighting elsewhere. There are two glass walls on each side of the dining room—it’s a glass wine cellar staked with various vintage wines and expensive champagnes. In the master bedroom there is a massive coral reef aquarium with bright yellow, orange, and red colored fish.

When Julian has finished giving me a tour, he turns and gazes at me with his piercing, penetrating blue eyes.

“You’re unfiltered opinion, Mrs. Stone?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Beautiful!” I gasp, breathless and in awe.

Julian lips turn up into a mischievous grin.

“You designed it all yourself?” I gaze up into the eyes of the man I continually grow to love
and respect more and more each day.

“Damn right, I did.” Julian grins.
“If you like this hotel, you should see the hotels and homes I own in Asia—Shanghai, Guangzhou, Hong Kong, Singapore, and Tokyo. Those Asian cities are known for their marvelous interior and architectural designs. The hotels I own there have consistently gotten positive feedback.”

“I find it interesting that you hire female manager
s for your hotels.” I raise an eyebrow.

“Yes, well, like I said before, I don’t trust men the same way I trust women,” Julian explains.
“I hire the smartest women I can find and I have been very satisfied with them so far.”

I frown as I consider this.

“What’s wrong, Cheryl?” Julian whispers.

“
In the very beginning you told me that you thought men were intellectually superior to women.”

“Yes, Cheryl
, in my upbringing, my father and all the books he imposed on me to read, specifically by Charles Darwin, had a strong influence upon me and my thought processes.”

I recall reading though Charles Darwin book in Julian
’s home.

“
Most of the things I own, I put women in charge of, and in much the same way, all I own is ultimately yours and in your trust as long as you submit to me,” Julian explains.

I nod my head in understanding.

Julian smiles. “I’d like to show you around Germany, it’s one of my favorite places.”

We are walking hand-in-hand on the streets of Berlin and I can tell Julian is eager to show me around Germany. We visit numerous places—architectural buildings, an art museum, an ancient history museum, and picturesque town squares. I notice that Berlin’s architecture has a fascinating range, from the historical to high modernism.

In the evening we have dinner at Berlin’
s top rated restaurant located on the fourteenth floor with majestic views overlooking the city. The restaurant itself is beautiful and the menu is unlike any I’ve ever seen. There is even a “water menu” consisting of forty different types of bottled mineral water from eighteen different countries—from 12,000-year-old Canadian glacier water to Tasmanian rain water.

Julian
and I enjoy a five-course meal. Each dish is artfully-prepared with colorful-looking food on large white dishes looking like bright and vibrant abstract paintings mounted on white walls.

During dinner, Julian tells me numerous interesting things about Germany’s history and the Middle Ages and I listen to him, captivated.

“There are over 25,000 castles in Germany and I’d like to show you a few tomorrow,” Julian murmurs.

“Yes, I’d love to,” I respond.

I gaze around the restaurant, at the magnificent view over the city, then back at Julian’s gorgeous face and my breathing stops for a moment. Julian’s bright blue eyes pierce through mine, dominating and possessive. I gaze at him silently, admiring the man who is my husband.

“What is on your mind, Cheryl?” Julian whispers.

“I admire you,” I murmur.

“Oh really?” Julian arches an eyebrow.

“You’ve accomplished so much at such a young age. You remind me of
The Great Gatsby
.”

Julian smirks, appearing to appreciate the compliment. “I’ve read that book
and seen the movie a while ago. I must say I relate to him in many ways.” Julian is thoughtful for a moment. “However, now I know what this life is all about.”

The waiter comes and clears our plates. “Dessert, tea, coffee?” the waiter asks Julian reverentially.

“Cheryl? What would you like?” Julian asks me.

“Coffee
, please,” I tell the waiter.

“Coffee for me as well,” Julian tells the waiter.

“Right away sir, madam.” The waiter quickly rushes off. Within minutes he returns with our coffees.

I take
a sip and raise my eyebrow. “So, what is this life all about?”

Julian takes a sip of coffee and remains silent for a while. I am eagerly waiting for Julian to respond. He takes anothe
r sip of coffee and finally responds. “As they say, life is a game, money is how we keep score. But ultimately getting the girl of your dreams in the end is the ultimate victory. Having you as my wife is my biggest achievement.”

My heart swells and I feel butterflies in my stomach.
It feels wonderful being valued so highly. I smile and blush. “Being your wife is an honor.”

I recall the past few months. It’s really been a whirlwind too unbelievable and unimaginable for the average person—but I’ve seen it with my own eyes. Membership in an elite secret society can make a man virtually limitless and Julian has accomplished all that he has at his age because of this.

“
Gatsby
didn’t get the girl in the end, but I’ve got you and I’ll make sure to keep you forever,” Julian murmurs.

We spend the next few days doing tours of numerous thousand-year-old castles. The first day, we see Hohenzollern Castle which is built atop a high mountain, constructed to resemble a medieval knight’s castle. We see Sanssouci Castle with its gorgeous extensive gardens and original Frederician-Rococo style. We get a tour of Hohenschwangau Castle, a beautiful Neo-Gothic-style structure built in the 19
th
century. We tour Burg Eltz, built in the 12
th
century and hidden in the middle of a dense forest.

The next day w
e see Dragon Castle Schloss Drachenburg which looks like a medieval castle from a fairy tale, sitting atop a mountain, surrounded by lush green forests, mountains and lakes. We also visit the Neo-Gothic Lichtenstein Castle that looks like something right out of a fantasy movie, towering on top of a rugged cliff.

The third day, i
n the afternoon, we see Neuschwanstein Castle, a fairy-tale castle constructed in the late 1800s nestled among the breathtaking beauty of the Bavarian Alps. Dazzling chandeliers and beautiful paintings adorn every room. As we tour through the castle, hand-in-hand, Julian stops and turns to me. “I hope I’ve made our honeymoon memorable so far,” he whispers.

“Yes, it’s been unbelievable,” I gasp.

“I’m glad,” Julian responds and kisses me. “Would you like to watch me fight this afternoon?” Julian asks abruptly.

My eyes widen in surprise
and then my heart constricts.
Has this got to do with fighting against Derek?

“I have a gym that I like to go train at when I’m in Germany,” he explains, seeing the worry on my face. “I’ve planned a fig
ht with my trainer at the gym.”

I breathe
a sigh of relief. “Sure. I’d love to watch,” I murmur.

Our private driver takes us to a MMA gym located in Berlin.
On the way there, Julian tells me more about martial arts. He trains four different styles of martial arts: Kyokushin, Kickboxing, Muay Thai, and Jujitsu.

Julian explains that Japanese style
s of martial arts are rooted in a philosophy of self-improvement, discipline, and hard training. He tells me that before he met me, he would train long hours, follow a rigid diet, and push himself to a constant state of exhaustion in order to build his endurance and skill. He tells me he loves the sport because it’s more primal and aggressive than any other sport and provides the ultimate purity of competition.

When we arrive at the gym, Julian greets hi
s trainer and introduces me as his wife. The trainer politely introduces himself and shakes my hand.

I notice there is no one else at the gym as I assume Julian must have reserved the gym for the afternoon.
Julian takes off his shirt and his pants, revealing black MMA fight shorts. The trainer turns on some pumping music.

Julian and his master enter the gym’s Octagon and I take a seat right near it.
I watch as Julian prepares for the fight, his shoulders swell as he takes in deep breaths and holds them in for a while before breathing out. In the other corner of the Octagon, Julian’s trainer also takes in deep breaths and stretches.

I gape in awe at Julian’
s muscular fighter’s body honed by years of training. He begins bobbing on his toes and cracking his head from one side to the other side.

The two men approach the center,
nod at each other respectfully, punch each other’s fists, back away, and begin bobbing on their toes with their hands balled into tight fists and raised up near their face.

Julian’s trainer aims a swift punch, but Julian ducks just in time and then aims and lands a spinning kick.
The trainer comes forward and lands a punch that skims Julian arms. Julian lands a kick than sends his trainer back, but he quickly recovers, comes forward and lands a powerful kick to Julian’s stomach which sends Julian back.

My stomach tightens as the men bob on their toes, fighting each other.
I watch the flex and pull of Julian’s muscles as he throws numerous punches and kicks. I get so turned on. I can’t take my eyes off Julian’s body during the fight. The same man who is so tender with me, is aggressive and ruthless in the Octagon.

I hear
very fast trance music blasting as Julian and his trainer spar violently with each other. They go back and forth for a while. I lose track of time as I try to watch every single move they make. The men are moving at lightning speed and it’s hard to catch every move they make.

Adrenaline pumps through me and m
y palms get sweaty as Julian’s trainer lands several potent punches and kicks which Julian tries to quickly recover from. Julian’s trainer moves fast to land more punches and tries to sweep Julian’s legs from under him to get him down on the ground but Julian moves away just in time, striking his trainer’s rib.

Julian bobs away just as his trainer tries to aim a kick. Julian’s trainer bobs toward Julian, ready to strike, but seconds before landing a punch, Julian rocks backward, avoiding his trainer’s attack.

Julian lands a powerful kick to his trainer’s stomach but suddenly, his trainer shoots forward and punches Julian’s side. Julian recovers, moves with lighting fast speed, knocks his trainer down and grabs him into a choke hold that prevents him from breathing.

I jump to my feet
as I watch the trainer tap Julian’s arm in submission. Julian has won the fight. I clap my hands, feeling proud of Julian and I am filled with incredible energy. Julian glances at me, appreciating my support.

Julian releases his trainer from the chok
e hold. The trainer bows his head in defeat and shakes Julian’s hand. Julian drinks some water, wraps a towel around his neck and approaches me.

“How’d you like the fight?” he says as he wipes away a few beats of sweat from his forehead.

“You’re amazing,” I say cheerfully. He really is everything that a man should embody: money, power, and strength.