Chapter four
1326 Words
Lexie pov
Immediately I settled in my office, Caroline rushed to me with a smile, which I returned. Caroline was known to be the gossip queen of our company.
“Have you heard?” she asked with a smile.
I sipped in the water from my bottle for a while before I answered her. “Heard what?”
“The boss’ son is getting married,” she said.
I spat out the water in my mouth as I started coughing. She immediately stood up to get a tissue for me.
How the hell did she hear about this arrangement?
When I had stopped coughing, my breathing had reduced to normalcy. She continued.
“Do you know who the person is?” She asked.
I shook my head. “No. How did you get this news?” I asked her, feigning ignorance.
She clicked on her phone and showed me the news. My skin grew pale.
“So?. You are the boss’ favorite. Surely you must know something about him,” she said, her voice filled with expectation.
I shook my head, wearing a polite smile. “I don’t know,” I said.
Her face dropped, and she left me to my thoughts. A few minutes later, my phone rang. It was my boss informing me that he was here.
I redid my makeup, smeared perfume on me before leaving. I gripped my bag as I walked towards the door.
So many thoughts ran through my mind. What if he did not like me? What if he was a cheater or his heart belonged to someone?
I opened the door and waited behind “Sir, you called me,” I said.
My eyes moved to his son. Why did he look somehow familiar?
My boss smiled. “Come and meet him,” he said.
I cleaned my sweaty hands on my skirt and walked to him. “Meet Derek, Derek, meet Lexie,” he introduced.
Immediately, he turned to me I grew cold. No, no, no. It can’t be him. It can’t be Derek.
His face reddened as he glared at me. He gave me a quick glance from my head to my toe and back.
A chuckle escaped his lips. He clearly remembered me. “Is this the t**t you want me to get married to?” He asked his father.
Mr Alberto's eyes narrowed to a split. “Language son. You are talking to your future wife,” he warned.
Derek scoffed. “Language? You are about to get me married to a w***e, and you are asking me to mind my language?” He shouted, glaring at his father.
His words cut through my heart, causing pain to rush within me. I staggered for a while. After these whole years, he still saw me as a w***e?
I am a changed person now. I hit the gym and got an hourglass body? I now have long black hair. In fact, I was an epitome of beauty.
“I was never a w***e. You just saw any middle-class girl as a w***e,” I defended myself.
He turned towards me, glaring at me. Chills ran down my spine as I looked at his blue baby eyes.
I swallowed hard. Yes, he might still influence me after these years, but I would not let him treat me like trash.
He turned his direction to his father. “This can’t happen. We will kill each other before a year ends. We hate each other, right?” He asked me.
My boss looked at me with pleading eyes. Ten years ago, I would have nodded quickly, trying to avoid him as he made my life a living hell.
But not anymore. I needed the money and his father had pleaded with me. I smiled and sat down, crossing my legs. “Well, I agree with you that marriage is meant to be between two people who have feelings for each other,” I replied, calmly.
I paused to see the impact of my speech. “But according to your father, it is a contract marriage. Feeling is not needed. So be an adult and play along,” I said in a stern voice.
A glint of surprise passed through his eyes, but was quickly replaced with anger.
I was pretty sure that he was wondering how I changed from the timid girl to the confident one. Well, I have men like him to thank for my rapid change.
He moved his attention back to his father. “Find someone else, but not this woman,” he said.
“Either you marry her or you sign those papers,” his father replied, pointing at the paper before him.
He curled his hands into a fist. His eyes laid with anger. What was in that paper that made his father get a grip on him?
Well, that’s none of my business. I was about to get married to a bully, and I needed to make him know that I was not a middle-class toy.
“By the way, How is Morgana?” I asked.
His glare intensified as his face deepened with a frown. “Don’t ever mention her name to me,” he warned.
“Oh sorry. I was meant to ask, is it true that Morgana ditched you?” I asked, my voice laced with amusement.
Within me, my heart beat fastened. If he was still obsessed with Morgana. It meant my marriage would be hell on earth.
But if she broke his heart, it only meant that with time, he would come to appreciate me for who I was.
His facial expression turned sour. He stood up and walked round the room for a while before he sat down.
“If you ever mention her name to me again, I am going to promise you that you will not live more than a night in my house,” he warned, his voice deep with anger mixed with hurt.
“Good. I would not want to get married to a man who is madly obsessed with someone else.”
He narrowed his gaze at me. He picked up the papers and flipped through them carefully.
His eyes left the book to his dad and then to me. “Fine. I will get married to her,” he said.
His father heaved a sigh of relief as his smile widened. Then he turned to me. “Just put it into your f****d up brain that you are only a wife on paper,” he told me.
I shrugged as I tried to hide the sting that I felt in my heart with a smile.
His father tossed two velvet boxes to us. We will be holding an engagement, then the marriage will happen next week.
We took it and placed it beside us. His father tossed two copies to us. Terms of marriage.
I raised an eyebrow as I looked through the documents. He never told me that we would have terms. But I would do anything to please him and help my mother.
My jaw dropped as I read through it. Some paragraphs drew my attention.
You are to spend every night with each other and share a bed. If you spend three nights apart, your shares will be transferred to Charles.
Your wife will receive a monthly payment of fifty thousand dollars.
You are to make sure you go out with her every time. Make sure there are no scandals.
You are to produce children within the first two years of marriage. Failure to do so, the company would be transferred to Charles’ name.
A chuckle escaped his lips. “Seriously, you want her to bear my kids?” He asked. He leaned his back in his chair with a smile.
“That is if she can endure that long,” he said in a dreadful voice.
Goosebumps filled my skin. Could I be making a mistake?
- Writer
