The Billionaire’s Desires Vol.12-13 (11 page)

"Richard, I think we'll actually want to eat outdoors, on the lawn. Beneath the stars!"

Mr. Diamonds, a beautiful combination of sheer madness and total certainty... as ever...

Exactly what made me fall for him in the first place.

***

Mid-June.

"The babies are on their way!" screams Gabriel into the receiver, as my contractions get closer and closer together.

I'm two weeks away from full term – very common for twins, and as physically prepared as I am, psychologically it's a whole different story. The staff at the ultra-private, ultra-elite clinic to which Gabriel has just brought me are already bending over backwards to give me a royal welcome. I'm in an elegant suite getting ready to bring new life into the world. My head still has trouble getting round the idea.

"Mom!" I say to my husband. "I want my mom!"

"I've just called her, my darling. She's on her way..."

"And Marion? Camille?"

"They won't be long either," he pants, brushing away a lock of hair that's fallen in front of my eyes.

"Gabriel... I'm scared..."

"I know my love. But you're not on your own, I'm here with you. And we're finally going to find out who's been hiding in there..." he whispers, planting a tender kiss on my bump.

"Haaaaaannn!" I scream as a new contraction burns my loins.

"Oh, my poor Amandine, if only we could switch places..." he murmurs as he lets me crush his hand in my own.

The pain is getting harder and harder to bear. And the arrival of my parents, my brother, then the blonde and the brunette, changes nothing. Apart from one thing: I now have someone else to scream at besides my billionaire husband. Now it's Marcus's turn to rolls up – after fetching Virgile from school – wearing a woolly hat complete with panda ears. In the middle of June.

"Can you believe how embarrassing it was having him come collect me in front of my friends?" moans my teenage steps-son as he pecks me on the cheek.

"Don't look at me like that darling, I've been told my job is to make you laugh!" complains Marcus seeing the look of disappointment on my face.

"You're going to have to try harder than that!" I groan, sensing the umpteenth contraction on its way.

"When are we expecting Number One and Number Two to pop out?" my colleague asks Gabriel.

"The midwives say it should be a quick labor. She's already quite far along."

"When are they going to give me this goddam epidural?!" I scream, attempting to sit up.

"Calm down, Amande, I'll go and speak to a doctor," my husband says to comfort me.

"I'm dying of thirst but they won't let me drink anthing..."

"Not even ice chips or a few ice cubes?" asks Marion, instantly up in arms. "It's almost eighty-five degrees! I'm going to the nurses' station to give them hell."

For the past thirty minutes, everyone has been buzzing around me – or out of the room. Except Virgile, who is transfixed to his iPhone, as always. And Camille, who is staring at nothing and simply holding onto my hand. Tightly. Very tightly.

"Dear, are you feeling all right?" asks my mother.

"Silas is going to miss the birth if he doesn't get a move on. I told him not to go and see his old nags. He should have stayed in Paris, like me..."

"You need to relax, Camille. And I'm not so sure it's a good idea that you're there to see. You're still a few weeks off," I say gently to my sister, grimacing at the same time.

"I'm going to lie on the couch I think," she says under her breath, looking a tad pale. "And eat something maybe."

"And voilà!" proclaims Marion, entering and holding up a full glass of crushed ice. "No one can ever say no to me!"

"Okay, Chuck Norris, I challenge you to find me something edible. And not some disgusting dessert pot, okay?" retorts Camille.

"If this is when everyone gets to place their order, I'd love a soy caramel latte!" adds Marcus.

"Yo, Panda Bear, if you want something, move your ass and get it yourself. I'm only waiting on pregnant ladies right now," retorts Marion.

"Okay, Woodstock, understood. I'll be back, darling," he promises, kissing me on the hand. "Hold them in a little while longer. I don't want to miss the show!"

"Where the hell is the goddam EPIDURAL?!!!"

I grip the sheet in my fist with all my strength, the pain crashing down in increasingly violent waves. I'm having trouble breathing. My mother helps me to lie on my side and gently massages the small of my back while I moan and groan despite myself.

I hear the distinct sound of Gabriel's voice getting closer. He's talking in his authoritative manner to a doctor, with a hint of concern at the end of his sentence: I can read my husband from a mile off.

"Mrs. Diamonds, my colleague is going to check that the labor is progressing as we would expect," announces the man with salt-and-pepper hair. "If it is, we can proceed with the epidural."

I sigh with relief as the examination begins. It's not particularly pleasant –in fact it's highly embarrassing, but at this stage I don't give a damn. I just want the blasted drugs.

"Four centimeters, almost five!" announces the midwife from down between my thighs.

"Congratulations, you’re extremely efficient!"

"I don't want compliments, I want drugs!" I shout, making the doctor burst out laughing.

Silas is just in time. After three hours of relative calm – the epidural acts on the pain but has no effect on my wonderful but excitable team – I am ready to go into labor in the birthing room. This time, Gabriel and I are alone with the doctors. I'm drifting in and out of reality, half raving like a lunatic. My heart is threatening to beat out of my chest. On my right, my billionaire husband is holding firmly onto my hand, cooling me with a water spray, caressing my cheek, kissing me on the tip of my nose, encouraging me when he feels I need motivation. His presence soothes me, reassures me – although he is under strict instructions not to look even for a nanosecond below my waist. More than anything, his warm and confident smile gives me the strength I need to bring my son... and then my daughter into the world.

Arthur is born at 4:21 PM weighing five pounds seven ounces and measuring forty-eight centimeters. He's barely laid on my chest for a second before I feel my heart swell and double in size. I'm already desperately in love with him.

Rose is born at 4:44 PM. She weighs five pounds nine ounces and measures forty-seven centimeters. The midwife places her beside my breast, where Rose only stops crying when her tiny body comes into contact with her brother. Her teeny blue eyes cross my gaze for a second, and instantly I'm crying uncontrollably. Love at first sight. A second time.

Gabriel strokes his babies incredibly softly with the tips of his fingers. His azure eyes are also teary, but his smile, directed at me, is brimming over with tenderness and infinite gratitude.

"This is the most beautiful gift you could ever give me, my Amande..."

"Make sure this memory is firmly etched in your mind, Diamonds," I say lazily. "Because this is the first and last time."

He laughs then presses his forehead against mine and whispers in my ear:

"I have everything I dreamed of, our family is finally complete. And I can never thank whoever it was, up there, who put you on my path. And gave us the chance to create these two tiny wrigglers. Arthur and Rose, pleased to meet you, I'm daddy..."

Gabriel

His hood pulled tightly over his head, Virgile is crouched over the baby rockers where he’s been busy making funny faces for a good five minutes to get the twins to laugh. He had Rose straight away. She's not stopped babbling and waving her chubby arms up at her big brother. Arthur is acting the grouch, which is his usual way. The Diamonds’ way if I’m honest.

My son – the eldest – bonded with his brother and sister at first sight. It's been four months already. Since then, the days have flown by at breakneck speed and our little family is slowly finding its way together, laughing, crying, arguing and apologizing along the way. With two newborns in the house, I can’t say it’s been a walk in the park, especially for a control freak like me.

Amande would never let me hear the last of it if she heard me admit that. Better I'd never admit it out loud.

Fortunately Pete was there to help us from the get-go. Our sort of fairy godmother sporting cropped hair and multi-colored Converse. Pete is our nanny. Or I guess I should say "manny." I was kind of surprised at first by Amandine's choice. In my narrow, Alpha male mind, it was obvious that only a woman could be capable of taking care of my children, listen to them and give them all the affection they needed. Wrong. Yet another preconception I've managed to put to bed, thanks to my wife. At twenty-seven, Pete is not simply a charming young man, he's highly qualified – earning his stripes at several crèches before coming to look after my kids – and is now dating Marcus.

Aside from a few teething problems right at the start, our "family business" is running like a dream. Amandine and I haven't lost our spark, as some people predicted might happen. Still totally crazy about each other, invincible and insatiable, we are discovering each other all over again. She's completely under my skin. This pure, intense and unwavering love I feel, she's the one who injected it in my veins. Before her, I used to try and outrun my own shadow. Today, I can shout it out loud and proud that my love for her is everlasting.

I had it in my head that I was a bad husband, but she proved me wrong. But my biggest fear was being a bad father. But again thanks to her tenderness and patience I have been able to open up even more. To show outwardly what I feel, to become the best version of myself that I can be. She and my children are my life. I couldn't think of two better roles she could have given me than husband and father.

That's not to say I didn't have to review my priorities. And adjust my schedule. Amande and I are both super busy with our respective jobs, but we set aside ample time to take good care of our three kids. The eldest at fifteen has his first girlfriend, a cool hairdo and a smartphone stuck to his hand, and swears to whoever will listen that he doesn't need us anymore. The next two are only a few months old, only seem to wake up to eat, and don't seem to give a damn about how much noise they make. But like any father worth his salt, I'm crazy about them, all three of them.

Oh... and I mustn’t forget Paris, our lovable but stupid mutt who spends his day digging holes, which the gardeners are none too pleased about, needless to say.

"Virgile, you're going to be late for your first class!" I say, glancing down at my Vulcain watch.

"I've got time, Dad," he sighs, dragging his heels to the door.

"Come on, I'll give you a lift."

"Dad..."

"No arguing. Come on, out!" I smile, showing him the way. "Amande, we're off!"

"What? Gabriel, wait!" she shouts from somewhere deep in the house.

"No time, sorry," I say, seeing my son on the point of shooting daggers at me, before pausing to reconsider. "Oh but… damn, wait two seconds Virgile!"

I drop my briefcase and stride towards the bedroom. I push open the door and see my wife – as irresistible as ever – in a silk robe. She's just this moment stepped out of the shower and she looks ridiculously gorgeous.

"Since when have you left without saying goodbye?" she sulks, looking at me through her reflection in the mirror.

"Come here."

I press my lips against hers and for ten seconds the world stops spinning. When her soft hands brush through my hair and her tongue becomes more urgent, I step back and break our embrace. Either that or I won’t be held responsible for my actions! I give her a small slap on the behind and she gives me the most insolent of smiles. A last peck on the lips and I rejoin my son, who is loudly sighing in the hallway and impatiently tapping his foot.

Don't rise to the bait. Avoid a teenage tantrum so early in the morning. Just drop him off at school and head to the office.

The Diamonds empire is still going from strength to strength. And perhaps I can hand over the baton to my kids some day...

This evening, when Amandine gets back to our mansion, she'll get the surprise of her life. Camille, Silas, Oscar, Eliott, and Joseph will have already dropped off their luggage. And taken over the four spare rooms. Since the birth of their twins, my brother and sister-in-law have gone AWOL. But I can hardly blame them: I know firsthand how hard it is to come up for air after two babies come into your life!

Silas with two three-month-old babies in his arms... that'll be a sight for sore eyes!

In three days, we'll all be jetting off to L.A. The Diamonds clan has absolutely no idea what I've been cooking up the last two years. I wanted to give them an unforgettable souvenir, to thank them for sticking by me through thick and thin. I've made an exception this time and invited Prudence to the celebration. Whatever I do, I'll never be able to push her out of my life forever. She is and always will be my mother, in spite of her betrayals; she too has the right to find peace. Marion will also be there, with her husband and their two kids. And Tristan will be in all our thoughts.

This guilt eating me up… will it ever go away?

***

Our five black SUVs with tinted windows and gleaming hoods are driving up the hill in single file. Feeling slightly tense, I look at the rear-view mirror and watch Silas's family through the windscreen of the vehicle immediately behind me. Behind them, Céleste is at the wheel, riding along with Dana, Virgile, and our parents – who for the first time since their divorce have agreed to make this short trip in each other's company. Four cars along are Antoine and Marion Lebrun and their little brown-haired kids. At the rear, Amandine's parents are travelling with Marcus and Pete.

Amandine's hand, resting on my knee, tenses immediately. She guessed our destination the moment I turned onto the dirt track we both know so well by now. The one that leads to the former Diamonds Villa on Manhattan Beach. The house that was razed to the ground by the explosion and the ensuing fatal fire, two years ago. Two years to the day.