Truth Untold (Eligible Bachelors #1) - Completed

The time at the bottom right-hand corner of the screen struck 6:30 PM. Her eyebrows rose as she paused in her typing, leaned back, and stretched out the knots in her shoulders. She rolled her neck, and cracked her knuckles, letting out a satisfied deep breath. She tapped a key on the keyboard and started scrolling up on the document, counting the pages from where last she had stopped yesterday. Today, she did well. She had written almost three full chapters since she sat down at 1:00 PM. The chapters were long, and words had kept flowing, never once stopping. In fact, within the six and a half hours, she had taken only two breaks, and that was to use the bathroom. “We’re moving according to schedule, Ness,” she commended herself, hitting the save icon to ensure her work was not lost, and minimized the tab. It was a force of habit, growing up with little privacy and her imagination bordering on terrifying at times. It was best to keep her stories hidden unless she was comfortable with others reading them, lest she ended up getting ‘the talk.’ Vanessa took her bottle of water and proceeded to the shelves that lined one wall of the room. It held books of all kinds. Books on drama and poetry, books on science and world history, politics and psychology, literature written by some of the most famous names in Indian, African, American, and British fiction that set the foundation for authors everywhere. Novels written by some of the more notable authors of contemporary society and in different genres, for varied reasons. Vanessa, like any other reader, or author, had her preferred novelists. She quickly found the novel she was looking for, perhaps, one of her favourites just yet. Murder House written by James Patterson. She admired his work, and how his chapters were short, yet gave so much and kept you turning the page. She had read the book once before, remembering how she had figured out who the killer was before the book reached its c****x. Crime, mystery, and horror were among her favoured genres. And in her own writing, she decided to try something new as she had always wished to write a romance themed story. But her mind would not let go of the darker themes, so her story’s planning had started with light-hearted fluff and romance, steadily spiralling into heartbreak that turned into a nightmare. She was approaching the resolution of her story, and then, it was off to her editor. Vanessa sat down and opened the novel, beginning to read. She had made herself comfortable, and it wasn’t long after that the front door opened. From her room, she heard the chuckles and giggles, the obnoxious squeals of delight and the shamelessly lustful flirting that hurt her ears. The bedroom door opposite hers opened, and the squealing and giggling of an unknown female mixing together with the chuckles of a familiar male, started grating on her nerves. The moans and grunts followed, and Vanessa placed her book down, staring off into nothing as her mind warped and her heart thundered with the familiarity of mild trauma. The voices stopped then, and the door to her own bedroom swung open. There had been no knock, therefore no indication to her that someone wished to enter. Vanessa turned to look at the man leaning against the doorframe. His appearance was rather typical. Tall, dark, and handsome, with a boyish grin, mischievous hazel eyes twinkling darkly at night. Vanessa found it disheartening that his personality was a horrifying contrast to such good looks. This man was Alexander Roche. Her husband. Vanessa cringed internally each time she thought of it and how their marriage came to be. She cringed even harder when she thought about how much of the opposite he was to her ideal husband. If things had been different, Vanessa would not have looked his way twice. Instead, she was saddled with a husband who she did not care much for, like he did for her. Vanessa was after all, the temporary, and secret wife. The woman he was meant to marry and had dreamed of marrying was Vanessa’s half-sister. Eight months her senior, Daphne was a vision of beauty. But she was a woman without vision and true passion. One daughter favoured over the other, their individual upbringing despite sharing the same home, had been rather different. “You’re home,” Vanessa greeted with perhaps, the most monotonous tone she could muster. It matched the blank expression on her face as she stole a brief glance at him past her glasses. “Early.” Alexander, for the twelve months they had been married, came home late every night, and spent his weekends elsewhere. When he did come home, he said nothing to Vanessa, often choosing to ignore her presence if he was not drunk or had brought home company. And even then, he mostly ignored her presence. Tonight, however, for whatever strange turn of events, he chose to acknowledge her. Perhaps for the sake of embarrassing and insulting her in front of his little friend. It was not the first time it happened, and he seemed to derive some sick thrill in demeaning her character following one of his one-night stands. Alexander wrinkled his nose distastefully. “How rude. A good wife would welcome me home and ask how my day was.” A playful smile curled his lips, and he tilted his head to the side, slumping more against the doorframe. Anymore and he may topple, Vanessa mused silently to herself. She gave him a half-hearted smile, pretending not to notice how he lit up over the fact that she acknowledged his presence with eye contact. “I’m not the good wife, remember, Alexander? I’m the golddigger wife.” Vanessa paused, not catching onto how Alexander straightened at the mention of her real status within his house and life. He recalled, with vivid detail, the memory of their wedding night that sliced through the alcohol-induced haze. He remembered how the driver had taken them to his house, and her innocent question of what they should do next. There had been no indication that she expected anything from him. And instead, he lashed out. He pounced with a verbal onslaught and insulted her with every slander that came to mind. “Remember this, and remember it well, Vanessa Stein! You are worthless to me, and you mean nothing to me. You are a golddigger, and your place in my life is temporary until the eighteen months are up. Then, I will be free to marry Daphne, my rightful bride, and you will be kicked out and forgotten like the trash you are!” And even as he yelled those words, she had not batted an eyelash. Her face remained as stoic as stone throughout his verbal lashing and when he stormed off to drown his worries in alcohol, he heard no rebuttal on her end. The next morning when he had calmed down, he heard nothing from Vanessa. She had sat with him for breakfast, and dinner, later that evening, and never once made eye contact. He had heard nothing from the maids about her possibly crying because of his harsh treatment. Instead, he had noticed how, even without communication between them, Vanessa seemed to find a routine that worked for her. She had moved into the bedroom opposite of his – as was the arrangement – and settled in quite nicely. She seemed caught in her own world, typing away at her laptop at odd hours of the day and night. When he asked the maids, they said so. She never fussed about anything, nor did she ask for anything, and especially not about him. She treated him like the stranger he sought to treat her as.   Alexander’s lip curled in distaste. “Good,” he spat, standing taller, “at least you haven’t forgotten.”     His intent was to storm away and retain his dignity. But of course, his wife had the last say, her quiet, amused chuckle stopping him as he turned about to face his bedroom door. “Don’t worry, Alexander. I tend to learn quickly where I’m not wanted.”     Disturbed by the statement, he refused to further acknowledge it and returned to his bedroom, where he spent the better part of the night with his one-night stand. And as always, come the next morning, he was the first to rise between him and his one-night stand. And like usual, the regret came as he looked down at the sleeping form of his companion. However, he refused to give in to the guilt.     Vanessa deserves every bit of my scorn, he reasoned. Hell, not even her parents wanted anything to do with her once they learned of her scheme! A scheme that nearly killed Daphne.     Alexander did well to remember that women like Vanessa would faster drag him to hell than they would ever bring him any good.     He woke his companion, greeting her with a warm welcome and told her to freshen up and meet him in the dining room for breakfast. Naturally, she asked if his wife would be there, but he assured her not to fret. Vanessa posed no threat. She was simply a greedy golddigger. A plight on his life, and a burden that will be shortly removed. On his way to the dining room, he spied Vanessa coming in through the front door, sweat covering her face as she trotted in dressed in her usual running attire. She removed her jacket, revealing a sweat-drenched vest underneath and Alexander couldn’t help but grimace.   What an unhygienic woman, he thought. He couldn’t believe this was the   woman he was saddled with for another six months. It had been his promise to Daphne, in order to protect her, and keep Vanessa away. Give her a taste of what it was like being married to the Chief Operating Officer of Roche International. His family’s business was a conglomerate that owned companies in the jewellery, clothing, real estate, and financial industries. The Stein family was not unfortunate though. Their family also came from money, having started and owned companies in the fashion industry, from clothing and jewellery to cosmetics. They had a Stein clothing brand, a jewellery line called Stein Jewellers, and their leading cosmetic brand was called Syren. It was how he had met Daphne and Vanessa as Roche International sought to extend their reach and enter a different market. They had chosen Stein Jewellers as a promising business partner. By the time breakfast was served, Alexander sat at the dining table with his companion at his right and as usual, Vanessa sat some seats away, occupied with her mobile. She sat comfortably, one knee drawn up while she multitasked between whatever was so interesting on the device and shovelling food into her mouth. In between bites, she would dab at her mouth with the napkin, and push the black framed glasses higher up her nose to prevent it from slipping off. “So,” the unnamed female piped up to break the awkward tension. She flashed Alexander a pearly white smile and placed her hand over his. “Last night was a lot of fun. Maybe we can do it again sometime soon.”        “Of course. I’d like that,” he replied, loud enough that Vanessa would hear. His intention was simple, and it was not only to humiliate her, but also, make her realize just how worthless and undesirable she was in his eyes.        A derisive snort drew their attention. Alexander glared at his ‘wife.’         “Careful. Daphne might not like that.”     Alexander’s hand clenched to a fist, and he restrained the urge to lash out at this beastly, unrefined woman. Taking a deep breath to calm his nerves and take into stride the audacity of this person to speak Daphne’s name in her mouth, he spoke before his companion had the chance to ask about Daphne.        There was no doubt in his mind that his wife would not hesitate to supply that curiosity with twisted untruths. Anything to make him and Daphne look like the villains and paint herself as the victim in this case.       “Vanessa,” he called, offering her a polite smile but anyone could hear the malice in his tone, “what are your plans for today?”        Vanessa was aware of his game. Whether she replied vaguely or not, his intention was clear this morning and so, with no other way around it, she simply gave him an inch.        “The usual,” she replied without looking away from her mobile. It was Alexander’s turn to snort derisively.          “Of course. Sit around at home in luxury and comfort and then spend my hard-earned cash. What else should I expect from you?” he spat maliciously.         “Whatever floats your boat, Alexander. And it’s touching to know you expect something from me.” Her tone was flat and again, she hadn’t made eye contact.         The first time he took notice, he thought it was fear. Perhaps, after their wedding night, she was afraid to trigger his anger and had chosen to walk around him on eggshells, but he quickly realized his error. It was dismissal. A lack of interest in her circumstance that broadcasted loudly to everyone within range that she did not care for her husband. More often than not these last few months, he said things with the intention to provoke her. Anything to get a reaction other than silence or the occasional derisive snort. He wanted her to react in hatred, anger, or something born from feeling and passion. Yet, all he received were dry responses and an expression that said she suddenly remembered his existence whenever she acknowledged him.        It was as if he had married a wall instead of a woman.         However, before he could make a rebuttal, Vanessa’s phone rang. She glanced at it and with haste, answered the call. She got up and left, moving further into the house, up the steps.        “We have a problem, Ness.”         She paused briefly at those words, hearing the urgency and worry in Lyn’s voice. Lyn Tatsumi was her agent, and manager all in one. She was Vanessa’s link to the publishing firm – Boone Publishing – and the editor who printed thousands of copies of her first two novels in its first run. Lyn was also a friend whom Vanessa had confided in about many things, and it was Lyn who was the first person to read Vanessa’s stories, and finding them so beautifully written and captivating, had encouraged her to publish in paperback.        “I’m listening.”   “The marketing campaign for your upcoming novel might not be smooth sailing. Information about your marriage to Alexander was leaked on social media and they’re calling you every name in the book. Ness, it doesn’t look good. Meet me at my office in an hour.” Lyn ended the call, leaving Vanessa to stand in the corridor of the house, her mind whirling with scenarios of uncertainty and the trouble that would come. If this got out of hand and the publisher suddenly decided it wasn’t worth keeping her on, they might refuse to keep on publishing her works and pull her previous novels from the shelves. She couldn’t be a has been after four books! She refused! The time and energy, the dedication and heart that went into her stories could not fade into obscurity when she finally felt like she had made it. Not after the incident where her second novel faced possible ruination before reaching the shelves simply because her dearest husband threatened to buy Boone Publishing and ruin her career if she hadn’t agreed to the marriage. How silly a thing it had been how their marriage came about. It could have all been avoided with a simple conversation, but who was she kidding? That was a pipe dream. Alas, things had panned out and her career narrowly escaped the threat. She had her own money, her own car. She could do as she wished and go anywhere she wanted as far from home as possible. If this issue took away her bread and butter and her ticket to freedom, she would never forgive the perpetrator or those netizens.        Where had they even gotten that information? Her marriage to Alexander had been a secret and private affair, kept between the immediate family members and closest friends of the bride, and groom. There had been no press and everyone in attendance had been requested to sign a gag order.        The deal was eighteen months. Then they would divorce, and Alexander would be free to marry Daphne and finally, Vanessa would be able to rid herself of them forever. Eighteen months to stop Daphne’s insanity and that she would be left alone in peace. That was the deal!        So, who leaked that information and what was their intention? The sinister part of her wanted to say it was Daphne but that was preposterous. Her sister would faster kill herself than let the world acknowledge that it was not she – Daphne – who married Alexander. She would go crazy if the media referred to Vanessa as Alexander’s wife.         So much trouble, Vanessa thought, grimacing as the tumultuous feeling in her chest gave rise to a headache. With a grimace etched onto her face, she headed to her bedroom and got dressed in a simple outfit – black jeans, a white vest, and a beige jacket, finished with ballet pink pumps, and large hoop earrings. Putting her brunette hair up into a messy bun, she grabbed her laptop and charger, and placed it into her handbag.        She took an aspirin from the kitchen for her headache, running into Alexander and his companion at the door as he was just seeing her out.         “I thought you were going to be at home,” Alexander said, taking note of his wife’s attire. He didn’t receive an immediate response, but rather, a dry look which slowly changed as she raised an eyebrow, processing that Alexander had asked her a question. Perhaps with the intention to further humiliate her, or perhaps, he was genuinely concerned. Still, Vanessa paid no mind. “Something came up.” Vanessa got into her car and drove out of the driveway without another word, unaware that she left behind a bewildered husband who could not seem to make sense of his wife. She was different now than she was before the marriage. Sure, she had always been the type to fade into the background. Most times, he rarely noticed her presence unless she spoke, and she never did so unless someone directed words at her. But then, things took a turn for the worse when Alexander and Daphne went public with their relationship. Daphne often wept about how Vanessa suddenly changed. It was almost as if, he had gotten married to someone else entirely. The wallflower girl with close to no presence rather than the golddigger who drove Daphne to try and kill herself.