BREAK ME, MY CRUEL BILLIONAIRE

One By Javier—"

I need you to take charge of the mall,

" my father insists.

That’s what he called one of the largest shopping complexes in the country.

It wasn’t a mall in the strict sense of the word; it was divided into stalls or a sort of boutique, separated only by glass partitions on the sides, and they all shared the same checkout counters, but it was much more than just clothes; there was a floor for appliances, organized by brand, another for furniture, toys, and electronics. Those stalls were all ours, except for the bars and restaurants, which we rented out.

Above all, there were two fast-food restaurants that competed with each other and another slightly more formal one—though not entirely so—that was frequented by adults and, above all, without kids.

Families with children always chose the fast-food restaurants; these were located on the ground floor, since they stayed open later than the mall itself.

I call it that to please my father… on the other floors there were small bars, also franchised; everything else was ours.

We carried imported goods and our own brands.

Some clothing brands were well-known and sold in other very exclusive places, and we had a more youth-oriented brand to keep attracting the new generation of young people—those who were desperate for the most famous brands—and we watched and took every trend into account.

New sub-lines with different names were always being launched; that was pure marketing.

They say my mom didn’t want to buy those plots of land.

When they bought it, the land was remote and not worth much, but my father pursued an idea my grandfather had brought back from France: they were Italian—except for my mother’s mother, who was German—but they had seen one of the first shopping malls in France, and that idea stuck with my father deep in his soul.

He bought as much land as he could, and with a lot of hard work and a great deal more luck, he went on to build this empire.

When the highways were built, one exit was named after us: “Shopping Ferrazzi.” He

started all this 52 years ago; he was barely 20—my old man was a true visionary.

It’s a shame my mother couldn’t enjoy its heyday—only the part involving a tremendous amount of hard work.

By the time she died, they were already millionaires, but not like they are now.

She passed away young; we were born when they were already older, because they couldn’t have children, and finally, through fertility treatments, we came along.

I never really knew her—I was one year old when she left us.

My father never remarried; I never knew he had a woman—until now…

He denies it, of course. What else is he going to say? That he has a 20-year-old mistress?

He says he loves her like a daughter.

But he already has us!

My brother Tony has no problem with it; he even seems to be fond of her, and they’re friends… or something more. I’m sure that woman is playing both sides.

“Yeah, that’s it—she’s milking my dad for everything he’s worth and sleeping with my brother.”—

“Yeah, old man, count on me. I’ll come in every day to work and take care of everything. I’ve already thought of some renovations.”—

“Whatever renovations you make, just make sure to treat the employees with respect.”

He told me.

Of course, he knew I’d declared war on that bitch Camila—always with that innocent little face of hers, and everyone says how angelic she is.—

We need to start offering home delivery for orders over a certain amount.—

That sounds great to me; you can talk to Camila about it.

Her again!

—I’d talk to my brother first. Don’t you think?

I cut him off abruptly.—

With your brother too, but he handles imports twice a week, and two other days he’s in meetings with the designers, at the workshops, and the rest of the time here—though often the imports can be managed from here, he still ends up going to customs.—

Yeah, I know that, and it’s true that I’m more comfortable here, but…—

That’s why you have to discuss your ideas with Camila.

That woman again—she drives me crazy. I hate her!

“She’s just an employee; I have nothing to discuss with her.” “She’s

more than an employee—she’s almost like a daughter to me.” “The

key word is ‘almost.’”

I snapped back furiously.

Always her—so unbearable—and my father and brother were always defending her to me.—Try

to get along with her, because she’s an invaluable employee and very important to me.—You admit it

? Is she your mistress?

—Don’t be an idiot; she’s just a kid.

—“A little girl who charmed you with her appearance—so…”—“So

what?

”—“So innocent!”

—“She’s a wonderful woman who worked really hard; she earned her bachelor’s degree in business administration in three years while working for us. What’s more, she worked for a year without being officially registered because she was a minor.”—

“What? She worked off the books for a year?Have you lost your mind?

” “I helped her out, and she said, ‘Don’t mess with Camila.’

It’s unbelievable!

I’m going to find a way to make her life miserable until she leaves.” “Another

thing—I don’t know if you knew this, but she uses one of the two apartments on the top floor; she lives there and is going to keep living there.”

I walked out disgusted. Even if she denies it, she must be his lover. She’s going to pay for this; I really hate her.

I walked through the administrative wing—there were four main offices, and one, of course, belonged to Camila.—“To

my office, now,

” I said rudely.

I went in, and she followed right behind me. I looked at her as I sat down behind the desk, watching her without saying a word. Of course—how could my old man not be crazy? Seeing her up close, she was truly beautiful. I didn’t like to admit it, but I’d only admit that to myself… and she had a body to die for, those breasts… What the hell am I thinking?

Besides, they must be fake—my old man must have paid for her implants. Goddamn it! “I

don’t know what kind of relationship you have with my father,” I say contemptuously, “or with my brother.” She looks at me with disdain but says nothing.

“Next week I’ll be taking over management of the mall, and I won’t tolerate inappropriate behavior. Start thinking about your resignation; later we’ll come up with an excuse for the old man.”

She stood up, placing both palms on my desk in front of me, leaned forward—I had her close—she had beautiful gray eyes, barely any makeup, perfect, soft, delicate features… What

the hell am I thinking?

Focus, Javi, I told myself. You hate her.—I don’t

know what you think about my relationship with your dad or your brother. Your father is like a guardian angel—I found him when I needed him most—and Tony is like a brother. My behavior is always appropriate for the situation, and I treat people accordingly—some deserve it, others don’t. And no, I’m not going to quit. If you want, fire me, and you can explain the reasons to your dad and your brother.

Angry, hurt—but she said it all almost in a whisper, and I saw her hands trembling, and her mouth too—that mouth… but she’s not going to fool me; I’m not going to fall for her witchcraft.—I’m not

interested. I have my opinion, and you’re not going to change it. But don’t forget that you’re just an employee—with more benefits than others—and I can guess why.

“I don’t know what you’re imagining, but I’m sure you’re very wrong, and you don’t know me at all.” “I’m not

interested in getting to know you. Watch your step, because I won’t stop until I rip off your mask.”

“Hurry up, so you can put aside that absurd hatred you have for me.” “I see

we’re on the same page.” “Yes, I hate you, and this is a war.” “You idiot

! I didn’t do anything to you! Get to work and leave me alone!

” I stood up and walked around the desk; she was standing there—even though she was wearing high heels, she only came up to my chin—and I grabbed her by the shoulders, squeezing them tightly.

“Don’t you call me an idiot. You respect me because I’m your boss, and you don’t tell me to get to work—that’s what you need to do instead of sleeping around with my father and my brother, you slut—that’s what you are.”

She slapped me with all her might; my cheek was burning. I was about to slap her back, but I’d never—until now—hit a woman, nor had I ever insulted or disrespected anyone. I realized that I really am an idiot and that I’d gone too far. I don’t know how, but when I came to my senses, I was kissing her, biting her lips—almost hurting her—devouring her mouth. She didn’t respond, but she couldn’t stop my tongue from reaching almost to the back of her throat.

I stopped because I could taste her blood.

I’m shocked by my behavior; I don’t know why I acted that way. I’ve always been impulsive, but I don’t mistreat women.

She managed to get away from me and didn’t try to do anything else; she turned around and left—not to her office, but to her apartment. I know this because she went up the internal staircase that no other employee had access to.