Boardroom and bedroom

Chapter two: The Billionaire groom (Amy's POV)

The following couple of days flew by in a blur of wedding making plans. My dad and mom insisted on a lavish ceremony befitting the Westbrooks' status, despite my protests. I had always wanted a small, intimate affair for my dream wedding. But this is basically opposite of all what I had imagined.

Before I knew it, my modest dream had morphed right into a grandiose spectacle at a historic mansion. Ornate floral arrangements embellished every floor. The guest list ballooned to over 300 among New York's elite higher crusters. Even my simple wedding dress had been replaced with an elaborate heavy ball gown dripping with jewels.

As I was being dolled up by an army of stylists, I couldn't stop thinking about how overwhelmed and out of place I already felt. It was even This entire production screamed of wealth and class that made me incredibly anxious and wondered What I was getting myself into?

discomfort mounted after I arrived at the venue and was ushered right into a private preparation room- completely different from which my groom waited. All they say was for tradition.

Smoothing my hands over the stiff fabric of my dress, I peered at my reflection inside the gilded mirror. My chestnut hair had been pinned into an elegant updo, , makeup caked heavily onto my unhappy looking face, all in effort at looking "presentable." And of course, I looked every bit the blushing bride, I had never looked so beautiful as I was.

But my heart wasn't full with joy and excitement . It was fluttering with dread over marrying a total stranger. A guy who had agreed to our arrangement out of pure business interest rather than any sense of love and commitment .

What sort of person was Jack Westbrook behind that cold, ruthless outside? My thoughts raced with all the horror stories of rich men being egocentric, controlling, or even worse. For all I knew, he may be hiding a few deeply stressful secrets at the back of that polished facade.

A sharp rap on the door broke me from my reverie.

A seemly young lady walked in with her face partly covered with the cap she was putting on, making it very difficult to see her face clearly.She looked at me for a few seconds, and left without even saying a word.

She looked expensively dressed and should be around my age group if am not mistaking.

Who could she be ? Why did she not say anything?

I was still deep in thought, when the door swung open once more.

"It's time," a stern voice announced.

Taking a steadying breath, I rose and made my way into the mansion's cavernous main hall. Hundreds of eyes followed my each stride down the grand staircase toward the altar where Jack stood waiting.

My first glimpse of my husband-to-be made my stomach lurch.

With his chiseled jawline, piercing blue eyes, and his impeccably tailored tuxedo's pristine cut, Jack Westbrook looked each bit the stereotypical unattainable billionaire bachelor.

He was an imposing, powerfully built man with an aura that immediately commanded respect or more accurately, fear and obedience. His slate grey suit screamed undeniable wealth and influence.

This stranger's face was almost unnaturally devoid of any detectable emotion. It was heavily lined with the chiseled features of a man older than I was, yet still ruggedly handsome in an overwhelming, severe sort of way.

He had the appearance of a man focused totally on business , not matrimony.

As I reached the altar, his gaze gave me a quick up-and-down appraisal before returning to neutral disinterest. Not even a flicker of appreciation for how I look on our wedding day.despite being made so beautifully up for the first time like a show pony he couldn't even complement my looks.

Just watching him standing by my side with his intense, domineering gaze made my knees go weak with uncontrollable terror.

The ceremony kicked into full gear as the officiant commenced the conventional vows. I tried paying attention, I truly did. But I couldn't tear my eyes away from studying Jack's stoic disposition.

Does he feel any thing towards me at all? I wondered despairingly. Or is this marriage already doomed to be the cold, unfeeling union I feared?

When it was time to exchange ring, Jack moved mechanically like an automaton performing mere routine motions. As the ostentatiously big diamond was placed on my trembling finger, his eyes remained impersonal. I mean absolutelly Empty.

My heart plummeted. This lack of any emotional connection or humanity from my new husband showed my worst dread. I did not know Jack Westbrook at all, and he didn't even care to know me either.

What sort of man would be eager to take on a bride under such disturbing, arranged circumstances. I wondered.

By the end of the ceremony when we have been pronounced husband and wife, I felt more alone than I ever had before. Sealing my life to this total stranger for the rest of my life filled me with unbearable dread and hopelessness.

As the upscale reception kicked into high gear around us, Jack's arm rigid against my back, I plastered on a smile through the first dance and cake-cutting for the ocean of photographers. All while a growing pit inside me opened wider.

What have I gotten myself into? I thought in despair . This guy will never love me, he doesn't even look like who will love me in the future.

Besides who was that lady, that came to see me without saying a word, in the private room? All these thoughts kept flooding my mind..

Just then, Jack leaned in close. My heart leapt, thinking he would finally offer some heartfelt words of confirmation to his new beautiful bride.

"Quit frowning," he muttered underneath his breath so only me can hear. "You're ruining all of the photographs with the bitter look on your face."

My face flushed with humiliation and hurt as Jack abruptly turn away from me. Fighting back tears, I realized with sickening certainty that agreeing to this marriage may have been the worst mistake of my life.