Chapter Two
1241 Words
Arielle's POV
"What are you doing?" The voice made my heart jump. I stopped in my track.
He was supposed to be sleeping.
I dropped my shoes, my dress falling off my shoulders. I had wanted to sneak out, tiptoe out of the room silently without waking him up and put everything behind me, but here I was.
I turned around to find him sitting up on the bed, staring at me, his eyes lazy.
"Going home."
"Okay, I'll drop you off," he said, and tried standing up from the bed.
He didn't look like he recognized me, neither did he act like he did.
The offer was tempting. It would be easier to get home but the person making the offer wasn't one I would love to spend another minute with.
"No, don't bother, I'll be fine," I said, praying he wouldn't insist.
"Oh," he said, scratching his head. "Are you sure?" "I could ask my driver to drop you off though, you're still hungover from last night," he continued.
Last night? f**k! I had ended up having s*x with my high school crush, the same one who had publicly rejected me, making me an object of ridicule and bullying till I had to transfer.
The good part was that he didn't seem to remember me, a chance to turn, pick up my shoes and run far away from him.
"I'm fine, thank you very much," I said while turning to pick up my shoes.
"You know you don't have to sneak out, I don't have to remind you of the caliber of man you spent the night with. Walk out of here with pride."
"There's nothing there to be proud about." I scoffed.
"I mean you just spent the night with Lucien Marcos." "If you add that to your CV, it'll take you places," he said, standing up.
He was stark naked, his manhood pointing at me, my breath caught in my throat.
I didn't know if it was embarrassment or the fact that I felt like throwing up, but I pushed the door wide open and ran out.
He was a clown, a disgusting one.
I had gotten an apartment with the help of the bartender. He knew a friend who could help. I tipped him for keeping my luggage and for assistance.
My new apartment wasn't as beautiful as the one I had in the penthouse. The interior design and space were nothing compared to the previous one, but I was sure this one was mine and Samantha wouldn't kick me out.
I didn't want to reach out to her. I had changed my number when I moved, and she had no right to have this new one.
My mind still wandered off to the disgusting man I had spent a night with. The way his hands moved over my body, drawing out moans from me was something that would take me long to forget.
He was still the same, more handsome now and a hot shot. While trying to get my revenge, I'll do everything to avoid him. Our path must never cross.
I was about to swallow the last content of my bowl of cereal when I had the doorbell ring. I wasn't expecting any visitors, but the bartender's friend had said they would send a plumber to check out the kitchen pipes.
I wore my slippers and made for the living room door, not bothering to check the peephole.
The person I saw at my doorstep made me jump back in fear.
Lucien Marcos! What was he doing here?
"Hey, I'm sorry for scaring you like that, I just want to talk." He said, steadying me with his hands.
I tried closing the door, but he held it open. I had no choice but to listen.
"What are you doing here? How did you find my place? "Were you stalking me?" I asked, trying to keep my voice down, pushing his hands away.
It was three days already after our last encounter, but he still looked the same– handsome.
"Stalking you? "No, I'll never do that, I just have my ways." He said, smirking.
"Is that supposed to be something good? Leave my house now before I call the cops, because you obviously don't understand what a one-night stand means."
He didn't move but stood there with an amused expression on his face, infuriating me more.
"Am I not talking to someone?" I asked, folding my hands.
"Arielle Monroe." He said my name with a hint of mockery.
I froze.
Did he remember me? The thought of that alone made my heart sink to the pit of my stomach, my palm became instantly sweaty.
"How-w do you know my n-n-ame?" I stammered.
"It's on the rent my agent sent to me earlier. This is one of my houses."
"What do you mean?"
No wonder the man had said I wouldn't have issues since the owner isn't always around, but here I am getting a surprise visit from him.
"This is my place, and you're my tenant, let's just say your landlord is here to make an agreement with you that'll change your life." He said, moving up my pouch.
"And what is that supposed to mean?" I asked, still reeling from the information that had just hit me.
I thought we were never going to see you again. Well, bye to that, because this doesn't look like our last encounter again.
"Marry me."
I almost choked on my own saliva.
"Are you nuts? Do you think this is funny? I think you need to have your head checked." I spat at him, closing the door, but he held it open with his elbow.
"It's for a year, and we'll both move on. I need this?"
"A contract marriage?" I asked in shock. "What makes you think I'm the right fit for it? What even made you think I would agree with this madness?"
I have seen those in movies who would have thought one would be standing in front of me.
He looked around my apartment, like he was trying to be sure no one was listening.
"Arielle, you need this as much as I do?"
"What makes you think so?" I asked, wondering where he had gotten the audacity.
"Your sister and fiancé, they're the reason you're back and, guess what? They need my company for this new project they're putting together. "Don't you want to be involved?"
He had me in a tight corner.
"You need money to survive here. I know what your sister has been doing and how you're at the losing end. You need the money and my name. After a year, we'll both go our separate ways."
My revenge plan had landed in my hands on a silver plate. It was for a year, and we would be done.
"So?" He asked, looking at me. I could see the plea in his eyes. He had something to gain too, but I didn't know what it was.
I was doing this for myself, not because of him. One year was all I had to sacrifice.
"Yes." I blurted out, without thinking, I had shut my brain and mind, there was no time to think.
That weekend, my name was on the news again, on the front of newspapers and magazines. Unlike before, this time was different.
YOUNGEST BILLIONAIRE; LUCIEN MARCOS MARRIES ARIELLE MONROE IN A PRIVATE WEDDING CEREMONY.
- Writer
