A Bride for Elizalde

Elizalde El Del Real . "How dare you, Zalde! You can't do this to me! I give you everything you want, and you will end this like this?" I smirked while chewing my food. It's no longer fun listening to all her bullshit. The place was great. It's one of the famous five-star hotel restaurants in the city owned by my cousin. I'm enjoying my medium, rare, high-quality Angus beef paired with red wine. Yes, business was f*****g great, and life has never been so good. I f*****g love it. "Zalde, sweetheart, I told my parents we are getting married. So I forgive you, babe. It's okay for me if you want to flirt too, as long as you only marry me," she pleaded. I know what she's trying to do. The best I could give back is a little sympathy, a token of nearly two months of dating her. She's a celebrity. Why did I even put myself into this relationship? Straight away, she got what she wanted. She's good in bed, an expert at everything. She can make a man go wild, and that's what I like about her. But after two weeks of dating her, I'm still in the same old shoes. She's not for me, so that was the end of it. It took a while to end things because I became busy with the business. I have been traveling back and forth between Singapore and Australia with no communication with her. She's clingy. I hate that. And while away, I found out that she was f*****g Nick. It wasn't bad at all. I thought she got my message. I was wrong. Hearing my name all over the internet about us getting married made me make my move. I discovered her dark plans. Sly b***h. You can't tame a lion, Melva. Not me. "Zalde, babe. Is there anything you want?" She stood up and massaged my shoulder. I stop slicing my meat, grab the table napkin, and wipe my mouth. It's too much hassle for a show. We are surrounded by f*****g paparazzi. I knew she planned this. Okay, let's end the show. "Melva, let's put an end to everything. Let's stop this boring show. I'm sick of it." I smiled sweetly and scooped my phone out of my pocket. She went quiet. I played the video of her making out to Nick. She gasped and covered her mouth. It's been a long time. I know she has a man other than me. She's using me for money. I know that. It's not new because all the exes I had only wanted two things: fame and money. "B-But, I love you, Zalde. I love you. Nick threatened me. I have no choice." She immediately knelt by my side. I smirked. Their cameras flash, and Melva is crying beside me, holding my hand. "Zalde, listen to me. I love you. I honestly love you. Please don't do this to me." Hearing her pleading in the name of love makes me want to vomit. Damn, love. I don't give a damn s**t believing in love. She's no special. Not for me. "Love yourself, Melva. Learn to love yourself first so that a man can love you. We're not in love. You knew that. It was just s*x," I smirked, "you better fix yourself and announce to the public that we parted ways. That's the only way you can save your image," I whispered. I held her hand, trying to help her to stand up. I tackled her hair and wiped her tears with a pleasant smile. I even kissed her cheek. This is how I dump a woman with respect. "Let's forget that we've met," I whispered, walking away from her. I stepped out quickly. Reagan immediately met me, and I heard all their questions to Melva in that split second. I kept walking. A deep sigh made me feel better when I stepped inside the car. I shut my eyes, leaning my head on the headrest behind me. Reagan started the ignition. My jaw tightened when he passed his phone to me. I looked at it. It's a message from Donatello. "Drive me to where he is," I ordered, and he nodded. It was a quick drive. As expected, Donatello was at his old penthouse. We went through the back of his unit, which is where we always meet. It's dark in this alley. I walked fast down to where the fire exit was located. It's crazy how Don designs his place—a divergent weirdo. I entered the pin code when I reached the door. Donatello smiled, standing, expecting my presence. "Scotch?" He offered. "Sure. Thanks!" I responded and walked past him. "Just in at the right time," he chuckled, "the most illegible bachelor of all time got dumped. Ouch!" I shook my head and sat down on a comfy couch, leaning my head and spreading my arms wide. I saw Melva's face on television with her fake cry. I sighed and grabbed the remote control. I changed the channel. "Here you go." He sat down across from me and looked at me suspiciously. I smirk and drink my whiskey. "What do you want me to do? The Amantes Builders is going to be put up for bidding. Unfortunately, your charm does not work on Elizabeth," he laughs, but stops after I give him a deadly look. "Sorry, my bad." He apologizes, raising his two hands. "You look like a reaper every time you look at me like that, Zald," he chuckled and drank his alcohol. " "I will become a reaper soon if you don't do your job properly, Don. Then, I will send you back to where you came from," I said, irritated. He jerked up and laughed. "She's hard to please, Zald. What is it about her that you can't get over your first love? Don't tell me you are still in love with her? Damn, Zalde. Plenty of women are out there waiting in line for you. More appealing, famous, rich, pretty, and everything. Why it has to be Elizabeth?" I swirled my glass of wine, then took a sip. I'd love to answer his question, but I need help finding the true meaning of this. I'm not in love—I'm sure about that—but whenever I see her with Kristoff, I get jealous and want to kill that bastard. And now that their relationship has ended, I want to get her no matter what. "It's obvious that she hates you, Zald." "And I hate her too. So the feeling is mutual." I stood up and finished the remaining wine I had. "I want you to bid. Don't use my name. I don't care about the numbers. Make sure no one can get it except me, or you will become a lump of dead meat," I looked at him seriously, and the smile on his face faded. "Damn, it's bloody expensive to buy a wife nowadays," he shrugged his shoulders and gave me a thumbs up. "What's the starting price?" "You're the boss. You can put all my fortune on the line," I disclosed. . C.M. LOUDEN