4. Dinner
1610 Words
All your worries will be resolved. You don't have much of a choice, Sophie." he stated softly his eyes cold eyes looked almost pleadingly, like they were appealing to me.
I gazed at him in astonishment, searching for words.
"Astrid. My name is Astrid, not Sophie." I corrected, meeting his gaze, we stared at each other for long moments
In that moment, his expression changed. His eyes hardening. Why had he appeared so melancholic?
"Astrid, indeed. I apologize for my mistake." he said solemnly.
"And yes, I do have choices." I stated bluffing trying to seem brave and conceal my anxiety.
"You would rather marry Desmond Johnson than me?" He questioned. I stared back utterly confused by his mention of Desmond. What did he have to do with this conversation?
What?" I asked "Desmond?" What did Desmond have to do with this conversation, I wondered.
He sighed once more, making eye contact with me once more. Staring into his breathtaking cold eyes was becoming increasingly difficult.
"Desmond was Felicia's first option. Until I made the offer. She was going to have this agreement with him instead, you were going to marry Desmond."
I was stunned, I was only bluffing when I claimed to have other options, I had not known of any other options. So grandmother was originally going to marry me off to someone else? And Desmond? That old crook? He was over 50!
" This is me saving you. What is your response, then?" he inquired, leaning closer and extending the contract towards me.
"I need time to review this with my lawyer. I'll get back to you," I replied, rising from my seat.
"Very well," he said. And as I turned to leave, I faintly heard his murmured words. "Let me help you." I hesitated, then glanced back, meeting his gaze once more. There was a wealth of emotion in his eyes, difficult to decipher. He almost looked sad.
"Did you say something?" I questioned turning to face him, uncertain if I had heard correctly.
He simply stared back, his gaze filled with inexplicable sentiments. It almost appeared affectionate. He blinked and his eyes went back to their cold state, devoid of emotions. Maybe I had misheard.
His eyes switched from cold and indifferent to profound sadness. It was confusing.
Damien Waynley was a puzzle. A hard, attractive, irresistible puzzle.
*******
I stormed into my grandmother's office after leaving Tescon. Grandmother confirmed it. The first person my contract had been arranged with was Desmond of Desmond.co. That was before Damien came along. Should I feel grateful or what?
As I read through the contract, a wave of understanding washed over me, mingled with a sense of resignation. I realized what Damien truly desired: a desperate soul entangled in suffocating debts, someone who could be treated as a mere object, devoid of any emotional connection. It was a cold, calculated business transaction he sought. And he knew I was bound to my grandmother, trapped like a slave. I had no chance. He wanted someone who needed him.
Examining the clauses and conditions, I found them strangely favorable. Reluctantly, I signed. Once upon a time, I had dreamt of a different life—a beautiful wedding, the fragrance of blossoming flowers in the air, and a home overflowing with love, just like my parents'. But now, I had to face the harsh reality.
"Look on the bright side," I tried to coax myself, seeking solace. At least it wasn't Desmond I was bound to in matrimony. It was Damien, that enigmatic, captivating man.
According to the terms, I would remain married to him until he grew weary and bored of me. In the event of separation or divorce, I would be granted a substantial alimony that could secure my future. However, if I were to initiate the divorce, I wouldn't receive a single dime. I must admit, he was quite generous in that aspect.
I looked at the contract one more time, scrutinizing every word, searching for any hidden traps or escape routes. Finding none, I reluctantly affixed my signature, sealing my fate.
The next morning, I headed to his company with my copy of the contract, ready for him to sign and sign my own as well. As I arrived, I encountered the same petite lady who had denied me entry before.
"Good morning," I greeted her warmly.
"Good morning," she responded, leading me directly to his office without any further inquiries. As I entered, I found him seated behind his desk as usual, his intense green eyes fixed on mine. Today, he appeared even more captivating.
He wore a dark green jade double-breasted suit, tailored to perfection and exuding an air of elegance. It was a unique design, clearly custom-made, and the colors complemented his eyes, enhancing his already handsome features. I never thought he could look any better than he did, but there he stood, surpassing my expectations.
"Good morning," I said, waiting for his reply. However, instead of responding, he continued to stare at me, leaving me feeling vulnerable and exposed. We stood there, locked in a gaze, as if in a battle of predator and prey. His stare left me breathless, my chest tightening with every hitched breath.
"You're so rude. Can't even offer your fiancée a seat?" I joked, attempting to break the tension.
His features relaxed, and the atmosphere suddenly lightened. "Ah, I see. You've accepted, then. Not like you really had a choice, though."
"Yes, although I have some conditions of my own," I said.
"Shoot," he replied, reclining back into his seat.
"Come closer and have a seat first, Astrid. I won't bite," he said, and with a sigh, I settled into one of the chairs.
"I never imagined I would get married under these circumstances. If it weren't for the debts, I would have turned down your offer without a second thought."
His eyebrow raised, piquing his interest. Normally, he appeared apathetic and bored when he wasn't glaring. I couldn't help but admire the perfect arch of his eyebrow.
"I would rather marry for love than money," I stated calmly.
"Then walk away, Astrid, if you can," he challenged.
"I can't! That's the thing."
I sighed. "We're going to be married for a while, so let's not be strangers and merely bed partners. Let's try to get to know each other. You know everything about me, but I hardly know anything about you—your hobbies or anything of that nature. I just want to know you. That's all."
I watched as he slowly rose from his seat.
"I don't want any attachments. It's unnecessary," he replied.
"We won't be getting attached. Just imagine if you had an illness or an asthmatic attack. We live together, and I wouldn't even know. You could die," I trailed off feeling stupid and realizing how absurd my statement sounded.
He appeared amused. What was I even saying? I chided myself silently.
"I need to know the basics, no strings attached," I finished weakly.
"Alright, the basics. I don't want you involved in my business. I'm a very private person, Astrid, and I'm quite complex. As long as you don't demand more than this, we shouldn't have a problem," he explained.
I nodded, fully understanding his perspective.
With that, I handed him the contract. He signed my copy, and I signed his. As I prepared to leave, he stopped me.
"Your phone, Astrid," he said. I was puzzled. Was confiscating my phone part of the deal?
My confusion must have shown because he explained, "You don't have my contact."
Ohhh, I realized.
I handed him my phone, and he entered his number.
He entered his number and handed back my phone. Just then, my stomach let out a loud growl. I had been too nervous to eat this morning, and now I was regretting it.
"Oh God, no," I said, feeling embarrassed as I looked at him.
"Let's grab lunch," he suggested, his face expressionless. I couldn't decipher his thoughts.
"What type of cuisine do you prefer?" I asked.
"Italian. I enjoy Italian food," he replied.
"Then let's have Italian," I suggested.
He pressed the intercom button and instructed, "Clear my schedule for the rest of the day."
A private elevator led us down to the executive parking lot.
We sat in the car, facing each other in silence. Damien,his brows furrowed appearing serious as he focused on his laptop. I couldn't help but stare.
He looked incredibly attractive when he was engrossed in his work. His concentrated expression and slightly furrowed brows made him look exquisite. 'How does it feel to be gods favorite' I wondered.
Finally, the car came to a stop, and he got out. To my surprise, he came around to my side and opened the door for me. I had expected him to leave that task to the chaffeur. As he assisted me out of the car, his hand brushed against my hip, sending a jolt of electricity through my body.
There was something about this man that made me acutely aware of my own sensuality. Yes, he was undeniably handsome, exuding a strong masculine aura.
He led me into the restaurant and even pulled out my chair before taking his seat. He had already made a reservation for both of us. We sat there, awkwardly staring at each other in silence.
While I felt the weight of awkwardness, he appeared relaxed. The lighting in the room accentuated his well-defined face, giving it a radiant glow. He was truly a sight to behold, effortlessly captivating
Finally, our meal arrived, looking and smelling delicious. A smile escaped my lips.
- Writer
