Married to the CEO for 52 weeks

Chapter One Alodia. Oceanic blue eyes stare back at me through the rearview mirror as I use my hands to untangle my wild, wavy, dark blonde hair before I release a long sigh. My phone dings with a message from my best friend. "Yo, you can do this. You're meeting the CEO of Chroma, and you can't disgrace me. I love you. Go and bag that contract!" I laugh as I read Victoria's text. She even lent me her car to come here, from which I alighted to stare at the skyscraper building. Victoria would know how to handle a situation such as this because she's from a rich family, while I'm just an orphan who has no choice but to depend on this contract. As I make my way inside the company, my mind reels back to how I got here. Only two months ago, I had decided to try to sell my paintings at an exhibition center since I didn't have a job, and that's how I met the billionaire Mr. Remington. At first he was an angel, but truly, he's a devil in sheep's clothing, and today, that devil beckons me to his company to sign the greatest deal that'll forever change my life. "Hello, ma'am. How may I help you?" My eyes flare as I come back to reality. The receptionist squints her eyes at me. She looks intimidating in her corporate wear, and I stammer as I find my words. "Um, sorry, I have a meeting here with Mr. Remington." The blonde woman looks down at the computer, then nods at me. "Please use the elevator to the 22nd floor. You'll be directed further." I swallow another lump. "Thank you." Inwardly, I gasp at the magnificent interior designs. It's absolutely welcoming and splendid. The varieties in the colours of the furniture blend so well with the floor and the aesthetic of the surroundings. On the 22nd floor, there's another blonde woman there who I approach. Immediately, I am intimidated by her appearance too. She looks corporate, and I bet her dress will buy my entire wardrobe. Battling within me not to avert my gaze so I don't appear timid, I utter, "Good day, please. I have an appointment with Mr. Remington." "Of course, ma'am." She says, and I sigh on how easy it went. "Mr. Remington is currently occupied, so please come with me." She moves from behind the counter to direct me to a spot to sit. "Please..." She drawls as she points at my coat. I'm still processing what she means when she helps me take it off, and then she gestures for me to sit. "Would you care for tea or coffee, ma'am?" Sharply, I glance at the bottle in my hands. Victoria made me this tea and she'll will kill me if I tell her I drank any other tea except hers, so I clear my throat and say, "No, please. Thank you." My chest is beating faster than normal, and my fingers seem to be fidgeting, which I'm failing to hide. "Biscuits or cookies then?" She offers, and I nod my head even though I know I can't eat it because my systems are currently malfunctioning. Twenty minutes of waiting, and I'm texting Victoria to tell her how rich the company really is because I haven't seen something like this before. She teases and comforts me again, losing myself in the chats that I didn't sense the blonde woman is in front of me until she declares. "Please, Mr. Remington would like to see you now." She leads me through a narrow lane, and when we arrive at a door, she presses on a button. "I do hope you are fully aware of what you are about to be contracted for, are you not, Miss Penelope?" I nod my head drastically, "Yeah, the mail sent to me was very explanatory." In fact, it reads as though I'm about to sell my soul to the devil, but I wouldn't dare say that aloud. The door opens, and I walk inside, hearing the blonde woman whisper. "Good luck." I gasp as I take in the content of my surroundings. Red lights. Dark space. No ventilation yet chilly. Minacious but astoundingly cosy. I'm stuck wandering my eyes around that I didn't look where I'm going, and then I trip, finding my butt on the floor. "I can order a new heel if you will, perhaps a stronger one." Says that recognisable husky and dangerous voice. Quickly, I pack myself up and force out a smile. "Good afternoon, Mr. Remington." "Miss Penelope. Please take a seat." His British accent does something that rushes me to doing as he demands. He's sitting at the far end of the long sandalwood table, and I'm opposite him. Basically everything in here is either glassy or made from fine timber wood, and they look exquisite. The red light makes my nerves spike up even more as it adds dark to the theme. The sound of heels within the space calls my attention right before another blonde woman approaches to pass me a folder. My eyes shift to Mr. Remington as the lady also passes him a copy. After the woman leaves, he chuckles. "I like my employees blonde. It helps me differentiate the women I f**k from the ones I employ officially for work." My eyes grow bigger at that. Did I hear him correctly? "You are permitted to call me by my name, Cole, throughout this meeting, and if you don't mind, please open to page number one of the contract. I shall read out the most important parts. Others, you can go through them later. I should like to inform you that you are permitted to take your time with the contract. You don't need to sign it now, and you can ask for more clarification anytime you want. My private number is attached." Every word that drops from his lips makes me want to melt into the chair. "Anything to say?" He questions, and I blink up. "Er, no. I mean, yes, I understand." His eyes shift to the paper, tugging a smirk. "There are three parts: the union, housing, and intimacy. I'll start with the union contract. Firstly, you'll agree that we are a married couple who exchanged rings in front of the church, and the registry is aware. Secondly, while the timeline of the contract agreement between us as a married couple is only for 52 weeks, if at any time within that period you have a valid reason to want to end the agreement, you cannot hold any charges against me but be paid a sum of 150,000 dollars. Keep in mind that if nothing of the sort happened, then you shall be paid a sum of 120,000 dollars, that is, 10,000 dollars per each month you're my wife. Thirdly, at the end of the 52 weeks, any possession you may have with me will cease to exist. Your only possession is your payment." He pauses, takes a sip of water, and then continues. "The housing contract. You'll not sleep on the same bed with me. You'll not concern yourself with whoever I f**k, and I f**k a lot of people." He raises his intense gaze on me, causing me to look away. "You can call me a s*x addict." Then, he continues reading. "You'll only speak at a gathering if I tell you to, be it social or family gatherings. You'll not relate yourself with anyone else in the Remington family except me, and you can only touch my hands or kiss me on the cheeks when we are in public to show affection. Privately, you are forbidden to act like a real wife." A few seconds later, there's silence. "Do you not know any questions to ask, Miss Penelope?" "I—I don't know. I feel like I'm a slave or something." "You are to be my wife only to the public eye. It's very easy. We are only placing boundaries. Anyway, you can ask questions anytime. Either here or later." He sounds like he's placing boundaries that only fit his comfort. "The intimacy contract. It's a more picky part, and it's only necessary for times when you may need me to f**k you, perhaps to perform any manly duties a man would perform for his wife." Did he not say it's a fake marriage just now? "I'd like to know your measures. There's the softcore and hardcore parts in a tabular form." "I'll list a few. Softcore tools are cuffs, ties, and blindfolds, while hardcore tools are chains, leashes, and whips. Softcore styles are missionary, sideway tango, and rocking horse, while hardcore styles are wheelbarrow, butler, and counterblow. Softcore fantasies are blowjobs, handjobs, and anal s*x, while hardcore fantasies are vaginal fisting and anal fisting. Others in the categories are safe words, spitting, spanking, and your foreplay duration..." "Please, stop!" I say, slightly slamming my hand against the table as I breathe hard. "I have a question." Honestly, I just want to change the conversation; plus, I have more than a question. "What do you mean when you say I cannot call the court on you if anything happens enough for me to want an end to the agreement?" He doesn't look bothered as he replies. "I am a man of extreme measures, and a lot of women find that dangerous. Plus, a disagreement could come based on your not wanting to continue with the rules." He explains blankly, but I guess I understand a bit. "Shall I continue with the intimacy part now?" "No, is that even necessary? I want to edit the contract." "You cannot. You can only ask for clarification. This is a job, Miss Penelope. Do not forget that." Cole narrows his eyes before he releases a ghost of a smile and then scoffs. "Of course, we can go over this later, even anytime within the 52 weeks." Something in me is annoyed that he thinks I'd want to have s*x with a rude and nonchalant man like him. "Why would you even think I want to have s*x with you? It's a job, right, meaning I can f**k anyone else too?" The word "f**k" sounds so odd on my lips. My eyes catch something in Cole's, but it disappears just as fast as it came. "Do you want me to f**k you here?" My stomach churns instantly at his words. "What?" My voice is high-pitched, stunned. "Say the words and I'll take off my suit." His voice is low, dangerously low, and he takes off his suit, placing it behind him, leaving just his inner white shirt. "I can take off the tie too." And he did. "And my belt." He goes ahead to take it off, placing it on the glassy surface of the table. "Have you ever squirted, Miss Penelope? It's a rare feeling for women, but with the right man, they can. It's like a surge of electricity passing through your body, shaking you with sweet impulse, vibrating, screaming for it to end but not wanting it to at the same time, and then you explode within your orgasm. I can make you squirt right here on this table." He stops, and the entire room falls mute except for my harsh breathing as my chest heaves up and down. A few seconds later, he speaks his observation. "Your lips are redder than your lipstick influence. Your breathing is stronger. You're pressing your thighs together, and you're salivating more than normal. There. That is the reason for the intimacy part of the contract." I stare at him for a while, inwardly cursing him. He's not only a control freak but also an arrogant, gaslighting, narcissistic manipulator. I'm glad he's made his intentions known, and all I just have to focus on is the fact that this is only a job, and my priority is to get paid and then build my own business. I'll be out of his life for good. My voice is tight as I declare. "I'd like to go home now to review the contract privately." A moment later, I'm walking to the elevator with Cole next to me. He pulls at the file, causing me to halt, and he stares directly into my eyes. His brown eyes look so clear now, digging me into their hypnosis. Everything about him is alluring. "Remember you're free to ask for clarification at any time, Miss Penelope." Something about his tone sounds pleading, like he wants me to sign the contract. I must be crazy. I smile and enter the elevator. "In two weeks, Miss Penelope. I'll be expecting my home to welcome you." "Most likely, Mr. Remington." The elevator shuts, and I sigh. I am really going to be the wife of this devil for 52 weeks!