THE BILLIONAIRE EX-CONVICT BRIDE

CHAPTER 15: PUDDING TALK

Allison's POV:

I heard their voices from the kitchen to the living room. My hands were stretched and straightened across my lap as I nibbled at my dress with my fingers. I could not tell for sure why it was that I told her the truth. I could easily have lied to her but I just...

It felt so heavy on my chest, my heart beating like a hammer on a nail. I knew she did not like me from the start. No mom would watch her rich son bring home some girl from the street that he knew close to nothing about. I knew that I would not. She probably thought I was some gold digger, coming to swindle her son's money.

I looked around the house. It was a beautiful sight. My shoulders quivered as I felt cold inside of myself once again. "I don't belong here," I whispered, removing my hands from my knee and crossing them over my chest, holding my shoulder blades.

Their voices got louder and I could hear what they were saying about me. His mother was adamant about me being a bad pick for her son, while he was resolute that she should at least give me more chances to prove myself to her.

I was tired. At that point, I thought to myself that if he did come back out, I was going to tell him that I was no longer interested and that I wanted to leave. That I could not deal with a woman like his mother staring over my shoulder every single day of my life all in the name of the fact that I was getting into a pretend marriage with her son. I could not help myself with that.

But then, the image of Aiden smiling nastily at me from behind a police vehicle where I was about to get locked up, flashed through my mind like a bolt of lightning drifting through a dark sky.

"No," I said suddenly to myself, my voice almost loud enough to be heard by Dylan and his mom in the kitchen. "I am not giving up on this. I will have my revenge on them, and Dylan will help me. He promised to help me. I will not give up. I promised to get to the bottom of it all and vindicate myself. This won't stop me."

I became ultimately resolute. Just at the time, the mother and son came in from the kitchen and saw me with my fingers curled up to form firsts, banging on my laps like a mallet.

"What is she doing?" His mother immediately said a finger stretched towards me, her head bent towards her son. "Is he mad? Did you bring a mad woman to my house? Dylan, what would your father say about this? That you want to continue his progeny with a mad woman. How sad. I thought I taught you better than this, Dylan. Why must you disappoint me so?"

"Enough, Mother," he said to her, his usually low voice raised high, a resounding exclamation. "I did not bring home a mad woman. Don't you trust your son anymore? Believe me."

"I wish I could say I do" she retorted at him.

What should I say? In my mind was a vortex of thoughts, all words I was thinking to say but did not know how to say it. But I knew I had to do something after all.

I stood up, all of a sudden, causing a shock to Dylan and his mom, whose eyes locked with mine.

"Excuse me, ma'am" I began, ignoring the raging fury she had on her face. "Can I make you some pudding?"

Silence. It was heavy. It was thick. It was loud. Even Dylan was confused, for a few seconds.

His mother, with a look of astonishment on her face, started off stuttering. "P—pudding? Why? How do you know I liked pudding?" She turned to her son.

"What? I did not tell her." He lied, while at the time staring at me with a puzzled expression.

"Pudding is my favorite thing to make" I continued. "I figured that it is such a tense atmosphere, and so we might need some pudding to break the ice. Don't you agree, Dylan?"

Dylan shook his head, "yes," he said, as well in wonder of what I had become. I was in shock. I did not know what I was doing.

"And what makes you think I would allow you into my kitchen to make pudding?" The woman shot back at me. "Do you see any servants in my home? If I needed a cook, I would hire one, and it would not be some cheap girl coming to my home to be a housewife you hear!?."

For a brief minute, I was knocked out of composure by her unrelenting nature. But then, I found more resolution inside of myself and said, "But I am not a servant, nor am I a cheap girl picked out of the street by Dylan. I am his soon-to-be wife. Dylan respects me, and I respect him too. This is why I want to make you a pudding. I want you to taste a little bit of what I have for your son. Will you?"

Her eyes narrowed to the floor as if shocked by what I had just said to her. I awaited her words to come; whether they come with scorn, anger, or happiness, I was prepared for whatever, however it may be.

"All right," she said to me, her eyes locked in with mine. "If you make a good pudding, I might give you a chance. That is the only choice I will give to you, do you hear me."

"Loud and clear, ma'am. Loud and clear."