He doesn't remember his staff's first name. Why the hell did he remember mine?

I pretended not to hear him, that way, he would forget the question and move on to the next topic. I ate my salad, leaving the walnuts at the side of my plate. I love walnuts, and I was saving it for last.

"You have the same name, right?"

I pouted. He would not stop, until he'd get an answer.

You're trapped, Pia. What is your alibi now?

"No," I answered, even though I did not come up with a reason.

His dark brows rose, "no?"

"Yes," I shook my head vigorously, "I mean, no. We don't have the same first name."

His forehead furrowed, his expression doubtful. Obviously thinking that I was not making sense. Then I remembered Connor, asking about my real name yesterday, if Pia was short for Olympia or Sophia.

"My real name is Olympia, and my niece is Pia."

"Ah... Olympia," he nodded, then smiled, "nice name."

"I don't like it. That's why I prefer to be called Pia. If I could change my name, I would."

"I still think it's nice. I haven't known anyone with the name, Olympia."

My goodness, why can't he just stop and let it go. I'm struggling to keep up with the topic already.

"The name sounds like a strong, muscled, and athletic woman, which I'm not."

"You never played sports before?"

"I played volleyball during high school," it was the truth then, "but our coach gave up on me, I sucked in serving the ball," I could not help but laugh. I remembered my coach, Mr. Adams' furious face.

He chuckled, then gave me a penetrating stare, "you know Miss Rosi, you really look younger when you laugh."

Oh no, here we go again. I should keep in mind not to laugh or smile.

"Um, it's in our genes sir. The shape of our faces has this baby face feature," I defended right away "you should see my mom, she's eighty years old, but still looks like in her fifties."

"Really? I would love to meet her."

Darn it. Why can't he just let it go. I'm making up stories, and he's buying every piece of it.

He sipped his coffee, then continued, "actually, you don't need to wear powder on your face, Miss Rosi, you have beautiful skin."

My face burned with embarrassment. This man noticed every single detail.

Every minute, I became more aware of him. His compelling gaze, his sexy chuckles, his boyish smile, his dreamy eyes... my goodness, he made my head spin and my stomach swirl. I was afraid I was going to have indigestion.

"You're very kind, sir, complimenting an older woman. I have too many wrinkles. It's just not noticeable by the lights."

I adjusted my black-rimmed eyeglasses, with clumsy fingers. Feeling very uneasy about the attention I was getting from him. I was sweating already, despite the cold AC. The huge study room seemed to be getting smaller, suffocating me from this unwanted tension that was building every minute.

I finished the last piece of my steak in a hurry, as well as my orange juice. Thank goodness, we were almost done. I could not wait to get out of the room, and escaped from his penetrating glances.

He licked the side of his lips, making me freeze for the moment. The slow action was very sensual and captivating, it made my mouth water.

"I have to go back to work. Thank you for joining me for dinner, Miss Rosi. The food was delicious, and I enjoyed our chat," he said, while I was still there, staring at him, not yet fully recovered from seeing his sexy tongue.

"Um...Thank you also, sir. I enjoyed the meal."

Later, back at the servant's hall, Jean was so happy that the master ate dinner and enjoyed her delicious beef steak.

I visited my Grandma Mary at the Golden House. She was Mom's mother, eighty year old, and still very active.

The Golden House was a home for the aged that I built for her. She invited her old relatives and friends to live with her. She had managers and staff, including health care providers that helped her run the place.

She hugged me, the moment we saw each other. Her eyes lit up seeing the beautiful roses that I bought for her.

"You look very haggard, nothing changed in the past nine years," she said when we were seated in her dainty living room, "I don't have to ask if you sleep last night, you surely did not."

"That was not easy to forget."

"Of course, that was traumatic, but you have to move on. You can't be like this forever, Kristov. You're destroying yourself."

"I wish I could do that with just a snap of my fingers. But it keeps on haunting me."

"Because you blame yourself," she let out a frustrating sigh, "it's not your fault, and nobody's blaming you. Your Mom and Anton won't be happy seeing you miserable."

She did not know the whole story, especially the things that I heard from dad, at the scene of the accident, and the truth that came out after.

"Have you eaten breakfast?"

"No," I replied, then saw her disappointed expression, "I'm still full from last night. I had a big meal," I touched her small shoulder, massaging it a little.

Her face brightened, "if that's the truth, I'm happy that you did. You can't keep on punishing yourself, my dear. It breaks my heart seeing you like this, always so sad and lonely."

"Not always. I'm happy when I'm working."

"Because it occupies your mind. It's not real happiness," she complained, "I wish you'll find someone who can light your life up, and make you complete again. I miss the happy go-lucky Kristov, whose smile always reached your eyes."

"I'm cursed, grandma, for being bad. I'm paying for my sins."

"That's bullshit, Kristov, don't ever say that," she rolled her eyes, raising her hands heavenward.

"It's the truth, I won't be happy ever."

"Of course you will. You're still twenty seven, so young. There's a fruitful life ahead of you," she clicked her tongue, "I keep on praying for you, that you'll find the love of your life. A woman who will fill your empty heart. She will make you laugh, jump for joy, and wake up with a smile on your face."

"She's probably not born yet, Grandma," I chuckled, "if she is, she's already married with five kids."

"Stay positive, dear. Maybe she's just in the corner, just waiting for you to notice her."

"I doubt it."

I felt a bit lighter seeing my grandpa. But the ill-feeling was back again the moment I entered the cemetery.

Clara Stavrakos and Anton Stavrakos.

I did not know how many hours I was there, standing in front of the two tombs, staring at their names. Nine years had passed but it felt like it happened yesterday. The memory was still vivid in my mind.

My conscience was killing me, that I wanted to die too.

It was my fault. If I did not join the Art Painting competition, they were still alive. Life would be different. Happier and fulfilling.

My heart aches so bad, thinking about it. Every waking moment, especially every night before I sleep. I wished I had the power to turn back the clock and change the past.

I grew up being an art enthusiast, especially painting. But because of it, I lost my loved ones. It made my life so miserable.

Now, the sight of an art painting made me furious. I did not want any of it inside my house, my building, especially inside my office.

"Sir, we've been here for six hours, and it's going to rain. Should we go now?" Jack said, behind me.

"In a while."

It was pouring so hard when I left the cemetery. I went inside the back of my car, cold, shivering, and crying my heart out.

I arrived home, took a hot shower and went to bed. I was feeling feverish. My head was aching so bad like it was going to explode. My body was sore, every muscle felt stiff and painful. My limbs were like jelly, and did not have the strength to move.

I embraced the terrible feeling. The more pain, the more gratifying. It was for the best. If I would die peacefully in my sleep, then it would end my misery.

____

Hello Lovely Dreamers, 

How are you my loves, hope you enjoyed the update.

What do you think will happen next?

Do you have your own playlist? I was not able to hear some music today, I got busy writing this chapter. I need to go out for grocery shopping. I'm craving for Ramen, and I want to try something new. Do you have suggestions?

Kindly share your playlist.

_____

Share your fan arts of Kristov and Pia, so I can share it down below, at the end of every chapter. Don't forget to credit yourself. You can send it on Instagram: sweetdreamer33_xoxo. Just tag me.

Bye for now, see you on Thursday. I love you guys, mwah!!

Please don't forget to share this story to your friends.

Lovelots,

Neilani

~ live the life you love

Here's your chance to message Kristov. Give him the best advice guys. We don't want him to die, right?

Dear Kristov, ____