Marrying My Cousin's Fiancé

Chapter Three

“Uh, why does the time have to be so fast?” Celine groans as she picks up a cream colored dress that had been placed out for her, as per “Mr Hale” order and preference.

Apparently, everything in this house goes by his order and preference, including her closet.

The dress, shoes, jewelry, accessories, even sleepwear.

Her closet was partially filled with top-notch luxury brands. They were arranged by colour and designer label like some sort of exhibition.

Celine stood at the front of the mirror, adjusting the dress on her body, the dress she didn't choose. Though it fit perfectly on her body, bringing out the curves of her body perfectly, she would have gladly preferred to have had a say in the choice of clothing she wore.

She was nobody's dress-up doll.

Hudson, who sat cross-legged on the bed, colouring with the pencils a maid had brought earlier, looked up at his mother. He dropped his pencil, clapping his hands.

“Wow, mummy looks pretty”

“Really”, Celine twirled, showing off her dress.

A knock came through the door.

Celine opened it to find the same maid who had brought the pencils for Hudson at the door, Clara; that was her name.

“Dinner is ready, ma'am”, she informed, softly and politely.

“Thanks, Clara. I'll be down in a bit”.

“Can he eat downstairs with us?” Celine asked.

“I believe Mr Hale just wants to eat with you today, maybe tomorrow, but I'll bring dinner for him and stay with him till you get back, if you want?” Clara said, the last part making Celine sigh in relief, because she was already dreading leaving her son alone in a foreign house, so Clara offering to stay with him was a relief.

“Please do, I'll really appreciate that”

“Yes ma'am, I'll go get him his dinner.” Clara bowed slightly, leaving the mother and son alone.

“Sweetheart, I'll be gone for a while, but Aunt Clara will be here with you, so be a good boy, okay sweetie.” Hudson nodded at what she said, but Celine could clearly see it in her son's eyes that he was sad he couldn't go with her.

She gave him a quick kiss on his cheek as Clara walked back inside with a tray of food for Hudson.

She quickly adjusted her dress, giving Hudson another quick kiss before walking out the door and closing it behind her.

Help me through this dinner, dear lord. Give me the patience and strength to deal with him. Amen.

She walked down the stairs in a slow but steady motion, locking eyes with Scott, who was already seated at the dining table.

His gaze bore on her, his eyes trailing her body, tilting his head as if admiring her, but Celine sure knew admiration was far from what Scott felt for her, so she settled that he was only assessing her.

She sat down, two seats from where Scott was seated at the head of the table, and yes, he was still staring at her.

“You're late”, he finally broke the silence that was beginning to suffocate Celine.

“My apologies, I was taking care of my son”, Celine stressed the word ‘my’ as a reminder to Scott that Hudson was off limits and not a pawn to whatever sick game he was playing.

“It's time he starts learning how to take care of himself, and there are maids here to help with him because you, my wife…”

“I'm not your wife”, Celine cuts in, annoyed at the idea of being the wife of the man who had turned her life around in the worst way, in just a day. Though she knew that title was inevitable, she still hated it.

“Yet”, he added, his gaze still focused on Celine but not calculating, just staring rather calmly, and that annoyed Celine more. The calmness he exudes, even in the most tense situations, even in a situation that would make a ‘normal’ human shake and fold, he will still be calm. He was always calm and calculative, as if life is a puzzle— an easy puzzle at that. He seems to have everything in the palm of his hand. It is obvious he loves being in control, but whenever Celine questions his authority, he still never gets ‘visibly’ annoyed; he has always remained calm and collected, and that annoyed Celine.

“Miss Michaelson or Mrs Michaelson–whatever it is you go by…”

“Mrs Michaelson”, Celine cuts in again, annoyance radiating off her.

“Of course, Mrs Michaelson, at least I'm man enough to give you my last name, unlike some dead someone who was a chicken of a husband”.

Celine stood up abruptly, slamming her fist on the table hard. Pain erupted in her hand, but she ignored it, pointing her fingers at Scott, who inclined back on the chair, his eyes glinting with amusement rather than anger.

“Don't you ever dare to mention my husband”, Celine spat at him, angrily.

“He is more of a man, a father, and a husband than you'll ever be”, Celine said firmly.

“Sit”, Scott commanded. The calmness in it grounded Celine, making her breath hitch.

“Sit and don't make a scene”, Celine complied reluctantly, her breath coming out heavy.

“Earlier, I gave you the privilege of being new to my world when I agreed to your request, and I'm still bestowing that same privilege on you”, Scott began, his voice still holding that calm authority.

“So I'll advise you to get used to this arrangement because I'll not overlook any sort of ignorance to my order, not when you live under my roof”, Scott continued, his voice still calm, but you could still sense the venom in it, and that venom sank into Celine's body dangerously.

“I didn't ask to come here; you ordered us to live here with you even when we aren't yet married”, Celine muttered, shaken by Scott's glare.

“You'll soon be married to me, so it's better to get used to me”, Scott stood up from his seat, walking over to Celine.

“One more time, Mrs Michaelson, I do not tolerate disrespect. If you point your fingers at me or disrespect me in any way, be ready to bear the consequences”. His voice was low, almost a whisper, but so venomous that a shiver ran through Celine, her breath hitching.

Scott trailed his hand on her temple, tucking a strand of her hair behind her eye. His fingers trailed her face in a feathery motion, his thumb stopping at the side of her lips. His thumb lingered there for far too long, making Celine suck in a breath. He bent, his breath fanning over her ear; Celine's heart hammered violently in her chest.

Why was she having such a reaction to his touch? Celine couldn't decipher why it had to be him, of all people she could have a reaction to physically. Why was it, Scott Hale?

I'm only annoyed that he's touching me, that's all. Nothing else.

Celine tried to convince herself, but whom was she kidding? Definitely not her rapidly thumping heart or the goosebumps that covered her skin, and most definitely not Scott, who saw the effect he had on her.

A smirk formed on his lips as he whispered. “Be early for breakfast tomorrow; we need to have family time.” He squeezed her shoulder lightly, pressing a kiss against her temple, then he left her alone without a single glance back.