The Ruthless CEO And His Substitute Wife

The room was taut and still like a held breathe. The clock on the wall seemed to tick louder than usual, emphasizing the passing of time and the weight of the moment. The anticipation was palpable. It was definitely something that would change the course of their lives forever. "I have a proposal for you," Arthur Carnegie began. "It's risky but it might be the only way to save your company." Mr. Walton stared at his wife, their eyes filled with hope and fear. "What is it?" "I want to marry your daughter." Arthur deadpanned. "That's the only condition for investing in your company." Mr. Walton let out a sigh of relief. It was nothing incredulous like he suspected. He was going to do any and everything to save his company from bankruptcy. "Then that's a deal." “Klara, are you visiting me again?” Arthur softly whispered, clenching his jaw. With a placid look on his face, Arthur walked out of the living room, leaving Mr. Walton and his wife to themselves. Few minutes later, Matilda came back riled up, with disappointment etched on her face. Her parents had sent her a mortifying text which had her rushing back home to confront them. “How could you arrange a marriage for me without even consulting me?!” Matilda asked, her voice trembling with anger.  "We just thought it would be best if you married someone we chose for you." Her mother retorted, taking a deep breathe. Those words were like a knife to Matilda's heart. It was as though her parents didn't care about her feelings or what she wanted. All that mattered to them was her role in saving the company. Matilda's anger flared. "You have no right to make that decision for me! I am an adult and I have the right to choose who I am going to marry or not." "We're sorry, Matilda. But you have to do this for us. For the company. For everything we've ever done for you. I know we've never told you about this, Matilda, b-but we aren't your real parents." Mr. Walton deadpanned, his face filled with guilt and shame. Matilda gasped, glancing at her foster father. She couldn't believe what she just heard. Her parents, the people who had raised her, had lied to her her whole life. Matilda felt like she was going to be sick. She was filled with a mix of anger, betrayal and confusion. "How could you do this to me?" She asked, her voice shaking. "We've always cared for you and never treated you as a liability. You just have to repay this kindness by getting married to Mr. Carnegie. He's a good looking billionaire who's ready to-" Matilda cut in, shaking her head in disbelief. She felt a surge of bitterness. "I will marry Mr. Carnegie. That's what you want in return, right?" Matilda didn't wait for a response. She knew that was all they wanted to hear even though they pretended to be remorseful. So she stormed out of the house after heeding to their wish. Her next destination was the bar. It was dimly lit with plush velvet seating and crystal chandeliers. A jazz trio was playing at the stage, near the table she was seated at. Matilda swore to drink away her frustrations. She ordered for vodka, wanting all her anxieties to melt away. "Another one, please." Matilda slammed back her drink, then put the glass back down on the counter. She took a moment to catch her breathe, raising her hand thereafter, to call for the bartender. He frowned. "Um, don't you think you've had too much." She shook her head quickly, but stopped when it made her feel a bit dizzy. "Not at all. Another, please." Matilda knew she wasn't meant to be drinking. She didn't have head for alcohol. But tonight, her aim was to forget how bad her heart was aching. Still, the alcohol wasn't helping. Her foster parents had twenty four years to tell her the truth but they didn't say a word. She couldn't understand how they kept something that big from her, only to further break her heart with such a mortifying revelation. Darting her eyes around, Matilda literally froze when she saw him across the bar. Tall, dark haired and piercing eyes which burned into hers. Reluctantly, Matilda tore her gaze away from this strange man. She downed the glass of Vodka, wincing slightly as it burnt its way down her throat. As Matilda stood up, the room began to spin. She gripped the edge of the table for support as her steps were unsteady. The bar was dark and hazy, and she struggled to find her way to the door. Miscalculating a step, Matilda's ankle twisted and she felt herself falling. Her eyes were squinted, too scared to close them, with arms held out, hoping to break her fall without breaking an arm. But it didn't happen. Instead of falling to the ground, she bumped into someone. He didn't mean to save her, probably. He was passing in front of her and didn't seem to notice that she was in the way, until she collided with him. Matilda's heart was racing fast and hard. A sigh of relief escaped her slightly parted lips as she fluttered her eyes open to take in her savior. A shiver ran down Matilda's spine upon realization that it was the strange man who locked eyes with her, few minutes before she decided to get out of the bar. Scrutinizing him, Matilda took note of how striking he looked with those electric blue eyes, full inviting lips, strong jawline and dark, perfectly styled hair. One of her hands had encircled his neck, and the other had grabbed unto his bicep. His hands came up to catch her as she fell into him, steadying her, though her face was already pressed against his chest. "Miss, are you all right?" The man asked in a deep, sultry baritone voice. Looking up, Matilda blinked at him stupidly, stunned at how much effect his voice had on her. "Miss?" He said after a minute, when she didn't reply, arching a brow. "Are you okay?" She nodded, slowly disentangling herself from his firm, yet gentle grip on her waist. "Then do you mind sharing a drink... with me?" His voice was hot, deep and everything irresistible. "I..." Matilda trailed off in pathetic ineffectiveness. She knew she couldn't afford to drink anymore. But she was so whipped by the strange man that the zeal to decline his offer died the very moment those words left his lips. “Sure,” Matilda mumbled, nodding her head. They walked back to the table with the strange hot man steadying her with his firm hands. “Can you get me what you made for me last time?” He asked as they both settled on the bar stools. “Sure, coming right away. What can I get you, Sir?” Said the bartender. “Bring me a bottle of Russo-Baltique and for the lady, a bottle of Ley Diamante.” He ordered. The bartender's jaw dropped. “Please give me five minutes, Sir. I’ll have to call my manager to bring the key.” Matilda was having a good time staring at the hot, good-looking man beside her. She didn’t care about the drinks. She wanted him etched in her memories. But the more she stared, the more she forgot intricate details of him. “Where are you going?” Matilda stopped at his deep, commanding voice. She didn’t realize that she had stood up to leave. “I just want to go home.” She muttered. “No, follow me. Let me show you a good time.” He took her hand in his and led her downstairs. The hot stranger made a call and a Maserati Levante came to a full halt. When they walked him, he directed the driver to his suite. All the way to the hotel, they kissed. He carried her from the hotel lobby, bridal style, till they got to the elevator which took them to the top floor where an enormous suite awaited them. He sat her down on the sofa and Matilda watched him pull off his shirt. She was whipped by his spell binding beauty, allured by his electric blue eyes and completely enthralled by his being. She wanted to touch his massive broad shoulders and when he moved over to undress her, she slid her hands gently over his muscular chest. Drenched to the core, she tilted her head and began to kiss him with so great a fervency. “So- so f*****g beautiful.” He muttered in awe. The way Matilda’s body reacted to his touch was a thing of wonder. It ached, wreathed and shook as his lips covered each skin the pulling of her dress unveiled. His lips were soft, velvet-like and damn skilled. He caught her lower lips in a sweet torture, nibbling diligently on it. He yanked Matilda up from the sofa, pausing the kiss as he proceeded to carry her to the bedroom where he gently tossed her on the bed; joining her without hesitation. There he captured her lips once more in a maddening rush, slipping the full of his tongue inside hers, rubbing, sucking and stroking with full intensity. Matilda craned her with a sigh escaping her lips as her hands went straight to his hair, pulling and moaning while on it. She could no longer control the sounds from her lips as she moaned shamelessly. Her eyes rolled backwards in utter pleasure as the full of her chest were pressed against his. The curves of her body in heated collision with his as he pulled her impossibly closer to him, about to slide into her core. The night slowly passed with all of its activities and a new day dawned. Matilda stirred on the bed, the sound of running water eventually waking her from sleep. She simultaneously yawned while pushing few strands of hair away from her face. The curtains were drawn apart, revealing a wide view of the glass window. The room looked different. Instead of curtains, she had blinds in her room. She felt a wave of panic rush over her as she frantically looked around the room, trying but in vain to figure out how she got here. With a sense of urgency Matilda rolled out of the bed. She was shocked to find her clothes at the far end of the room. She drew the duvet from the bed, ignoring the tenderness in her core as she reached for her dress and quickly donned it. The gravity of what she had done, fell on her shoulders. She just had a one night stand with a stranger. And she has never slept with a stranger before! Matilda couldn't remember anything from last night. She didn't know how to face him. So she decided to run out before the man comes out of the bathroom. Few hours later at the tea restaurant, Matilda and her husband-to-be were having an intense stare down. "It's useless delaying the wedding. Let's get married tomorrow." Arthur Carnegie deadpanned. Matilda took a deep breathe and tried to calm the riot of nerves in her stomach as she stared at him. It was her first time meeting her husband-to-be: Arthur Carnegie. Everything about him was just right, as if he had been sculpted from marble, a perfect work of art. And yet,  somehow, he was even more perfect than that. She couldn't ignore the way he looked at her. As though he could see through her, read all her emotions and even tell where she had been earlier this morning. She met her fiancé for the first time ever, less than an hour after she got out of the bed where she had been f****d the previous night by a total stranger. "Why?" Matilda actually didn't care if the wedding even took place now. She was eventually going to get married to him, so why the lag? She just wanted to get far away from his piercing gaze which was resting right there on her neck where the stranger from last night had given her hickey. She adjusted on her seat, using the length of her long, wavy blonde hair to hide the love bites. Matilda had forgotten to mask it up with a scarf before coming here to meet her husband-to-be. "Why not?" Arthur's lips curled into a lopsided smile. It was her first time seeing him smile, as well. His teeth was white and straight. And his smile was perfect. "We barely know each other." Matilda stated. "Your family's company is about going bankrupt and I plan on saving it. That's enough fact for you to know." Arrogantly, Arthur retorted. Matilda smiled coldly. She felt insulted by his statement. She crossed her arms together, swallowing the lump in her throat. "There is no need to pursue this arranged marriage. We'll end up stabbing each other's backs." She got riled up by the minute. His arrogance was infuriating and the fact that he clearly made it known that she was nothing but a pawn in his game, made her decide then and there not to marry him. "Unlike you, I'm a rational person. I understand how important this arranged marriage is to your father and to me. Think about what you want, sweetheart." "Don't ever call me that." Matilda snapped angrily. Arthur smirked at her. "What? Sweetheart?" He chuckled nastily and leaned closer, staring intensely at her. "I will call you whatever I want, Matilda- sweetheart, baby, darling, love or whatever the f**k I want, because sooner or later, we'll be sharing a bed, darling, in marriage or not."