Oops, I Married My Worst Enemy

The polished marble floor under my shoes was so smooth and shiny that I could see my own terrified reflection every time I took a step. I smoothed down the front of my borrowed evening gown, hoping nobody would notice the tiny thread pulling loose at the side seam. I was not supposed to be here. This grand hall was filled with soft orchestral music, sparkling chandeliers, and hundreds of rich people in expensive clothes who walked like they owned the entire world. I was not here to drink expensive juice or look at fancy art. I had one single goal for the night: find an investor, hand them our business paper, and secure enough money to save the Sunburst Hotel. My sister, Grace, and I had been working until our hands were sore for two years straight just to keep the doors open. Our dad had left behind huge debts that we did not know about until it was almost too late. If I could not find someone to help us tonight, the bank was going to take our hotel away, and we would lose the only home we had ever known. I clutched a thick white envelope against my chest. My heart was beating so fast it felt like a tiny drum inside my ribs. Then I saw him. Standing near a tall glass window, surrounded by a group of men in dark suits, was Alexander Blackwood. My hands immediately tightened around my envelope. I would know that face anywhere. I had spent months looking at his pictures on my phone screen, making funny videos about his cold, angry expression and his ridiculous rules for his workers. On my social media page, where thousands of people watched my daily jokes, I always called him Mr. Overpriced Ego. Seeing him in real life was even worse. He was tall, intimidating, and looked like he had never smiled a single day in his whole life. His black suit looked like it cost more than our hotel’s entire water bill for a year. "Just go up to him, Zara," I whispered softly to myself, taking a deep, shaky breath. "He is just a man. A very rich, very annoying man." I marched straight across the room before my brain could stop my feet. As I stepped into his circle, the other business executives stopped talking and turned to look at me in surprise. Alexander slowly turned his head, his dark eyes narrowing as he looked down at my face, then at my dress, and finally at the paper in my hand. "Excuse me, Mr. Blackwood," I said, putting on the brightest smile I could manage. "My name is Zara Bennett. I am running the Sunburst Hotel, and we are looking for a short-term investor. If you could just take two minutes to look at this page, you will see that our location is perfect and…" "No," Alexander said. His voice was cold, flat, and completely dry. He did not even wait for me to finish my sentence. He did not reach out his hand. He just stared at me as if I were a little bug that had accidentally flown into his sight. I blinked, holding the envelope higher. "Sir, you did not even open it. It will only take a moment of your time. Our numbers are good, and with a little bit of help…" "I am not interested in little family projects, Miss Bennett," he interrupted, his tone so sharp it felt like a slap across the face. "And I do not do business with people who bring paper folders to private events. This is a charity gathering, not a marketplace. Please step aside so I can return to my conversation." A few of the men standing near him chuckled softly behind their hands. My cheeks immediately burned with heat. I could feel the blood rushing straight to my ears. I knew I should have walked away. I knew Grace would have told me to smile, apologize, and leave quietly. But my legs refused to move, and my short temper completely took over. "A family project?" I asked loudly, stepping right up to him so he could not look past me. "This hotel is my family's whole life. You did not even read one single word on this paper! You are just standing here in your five-thousand-dollar suit, pretending you are better than everyone else because your pockets are full of cash." The entire corner of the hall suddenly went dead quiet. People at nearby tables stopped sipping their drinks and turned around to watch. Alexander’s dark eyebrows shot up in pure disbelief. He leaned down slightly, his eyes flashing with a cold light. "Watch your tongue," he warned in a low, dangerous voice. "You are making a big mistake." "The only mistake here is your attitude, Mr. Overpriced Ego," I snapped back before I could stop the words from jumping out of my mouth. Several people around us gasped loudly. A young woman in a silver dress had to put her hand over her mouth to stop herself from laughing out loud. Alexander’s jaw tightened until a small muscle twitched near his cheek. He took one step closer to me, looking down at me like a strict school teacher. "If you spent half as much time learning real business rules as you do shouting at strangers in public, Miss Bennett, your little hotel would not be failing in the first place." My breath caught in my throat. The words hit me right where it hurt the most. I opened my mouth to shout back at him, but my hand twitched in anger, knocking against a nearby waiter who was walking past with a tray of cold juice. The glass tipped over. Bright red liquid splashed across the front of Alexander’s spotless white shirt and dark jacket. Everyone around us gasped again, even louder this time. Alexander looked down at the massive red stain on his clothes, his eyes wide with shock. For two whole seconds, nobody moved. I stood there with my hands frozen in the air, my heart hammering against my chest like a trapped bird. He raised his eyes slowly to look back at me, looking so furious that I thought he might explode right then and there. "I am... not sorry," I whispered stubbornly, lifting my chin high even though my knees were trembling underneath my long dress. Without waiting for his answer, I turned on my heel and walked away as fast as my high heels could carry me. I pushed through the crowd, my face burning with embarrassment and anger. I needed to find a bathroom, wash my hands, and calm down before I burst into tears. As I hurried down a quiet, dimly lit side hallway away from the noisy party, I looked down at my hands and realized I was holding a sleek black leather folder instead of my own plain white envelope. I must have grabbed it off the small table next to Alexander’s group when the juice spilled. "Oh, great," I muttered to myself, turning around. "Just great." I walked back toward a private meeting room near the side exit, hoping to leave the folder with a worker. The door was slightly open, pouring a beam of light into the hallway. I pushed the heavy door open softly, stepping inside. "Hello? Is anyone here?" Before I could turn around, the door swung shut behind me with a loud click. "What are you doing with my legal papers?" a stern voice demanded from the corner. I jumped in surprise, turning around quickly. Alexander was standing near a desk, his damaged suit coat thrown over a chair, his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Before I could explain that I had picked up the wrong item by mistake, he stepped forward to grab the black folder out of my hands. "I was just trying to give it back!" I said defensively, pulling back slightly. "You have been causing trouble all night," he said, reaching for the folder at the exact same moment I lifted it up. Our fingers collided over the leather binder. We both pulled at the same time, tugging it back and forth. "Let go of it!" I hissed. "It belongs to me!" he snapped. FLASH! A bright, blinding light burst through the clear glass window facing the hallway. I froze, my eyes wide, looking over Alexander’s broad shoulder. A man with a large black camera was standing in the shadows outside, holding up his lens and snapping picture after picture of us. From the outside, standing so close together in the small room with our hands joined over the folder, it looked like we were holding hands and sharing a private, loving secret. "Hey! Stop that!" Alexander yelled, dropping the folder and stepping toward the door, but the photographer turned around and ran away down the dark hallway as fast as he could. Alexander let out a frustrated growl and ran a hand through his neat black hair, messing it up for the very first time all evening. "This is a total disaster," he muttered, turning to glare at me. "Do you have any idea what those pictures are going to look like?" "I didn't call the photographer!" I shouted back, grabbing my plain white envelope off the desk and tucking it under my arm. "I am leaving. I hope I never see your face again!" I stormed out of the room, my head spinning, and did not stop moving until I was outside in the cool night air, far away from the music, the bright lights, and the most annoying man on the planet. An hour later, I was sitting on my small bed at home, still wearing my crumpled party dress. My feet were sore, and my head was pounding. I pulled out my phone and tapped on my favorite gossip app just to distract my mind. My heart dropped straight into my stomach. Right at the top of the main page was a giant photo of me and Alexander in the private room. Our faces were close together, my hand was resting near his arm, and we were looking directly into each other's eyes. The big bold caption underneath read: HAS THE COLD CEO FINALLY FOUND LOVE? ALEXANDER BLACKWOOD SEEN IN PRIVATE MOMENT WITH MYSTERY WOMAN! I let out a hysterical laugh and threw my head back against the wall. "This is crazy. Absolute madness." Before I could close the app, my phone began to buzz loudly in my hand. The screen showed my sister Grace’s name. I swiped the screen quickly and brought the phone up to my ear. "Grace? Please tell me you haven't seen the news," I said quickly. "It's all a big misunderstanding. I met that terrible Blackwood guy and..." "Zara, stop talking," Grace interrupted. Her voice sounded tiny, weak, and choked with tears. I sat up straight on the bed, all the frustration instantly leaving my body, replaced by a sudden wave of ice-cold fear. "Grace? What's wrong? What happened?" "The bank just called us, Zara," Grace sobbed into the phone, her breath coming in quick, ragged gasps. "The main creditor refused our extension request. They said we have three days. Just three days to pay off the entire debt, or they are changing the locks and putting the Sunburst Hotel up for auction." The phone felt heavy in my shaking hand. I stared at the bright picture of Alexander Blackwood glowing on my phone screen, his cold dark eyes looking back at me from the digital news page. "Three days?" I whispered into the quiet room. I stared at the picture of the billionaire I hated more than anyone else in the world, clutching my blanket tightly as tears finally welled up in my eyes. I had just told myself I would rather marry a cold metal vending machine than ever ask Alexander Blackwood for a single penny of help, but as I looked at our names printed together on the screen, a terrifying thought took root in my mind. Fate was about to make me eat every single word.