RETURN OF THE FORGOTTEN BRIDE

Chapter Three

Natalie's POV:

“And did he do it?”

“Of course, he didn't Amaya, what the hell is wrong with you?”

In the space of five days, the reins of the companies of my father which I'd been handling were taken from me, the Bentley and Audi vehicles were withdrawn, I'd been sent out of the penthouse upstate which I'd lived in since I was 20, my bank accounts had been strictly audited and all funds which had even the slightest ties to my dad - running into millions - had been taken away, leaving me with a little over $22,000. To cut a lengthy story short, I had gone from grass to grace.

I had been left with no choice to move in with Amaya, in her two bedroom apartment which always had a smell of mint. Although the food was okay and I was comfortable, it was hard to transition from a life of affluence to one of.. modesty.

I was already house hunting and job seeking. I had a PhD in Accounting so I knew I wouldn't have trouble finding a job, but it was all new to me, this life where I needed a job. And I was only just realizing that I'd been living in a bubble of protection, all my life, which had now burst and had exposed me to life's harshest realities.

I didn't even know which one was hurting me more; the fact that dad had died so suddenly or the fact that his death had signaled the beginning of turmoil for me. But luckily, I still had Richard, and I still had Amaya, my best friend, although the question she'd asked me had pissed me off.

“Who, in their right senses, would marry a woman they didn't even know a day prior to the proposal, simply because she promised to give a few dimes to his girlfriend?” I continued.

“Well, I simply wanted to know.. Don't blame me; the whole thing is so confusing and I'm so stunned by the turn of events,” Amaya said, shrugging. “And where did you say Richard is, right now?”

“He's at his office, making plans to send delegates on a trip which we were both supposed to attend. He's making efforts to be with me, and I hate to make him cancel important plans but the situation is out of my control..”

“Damn,” Amaya whispered, “this situation is a mess.”

“I'm surprised you're only just realizing that, Amaya,” I said as I exhaled heavily, staring blankly at the ceiling. For the past few days, I hadn't even been living, just existing; floating on wobbly legs and tear filled eyes, unable to help but feel sorry for myself. One week ago, it had all been blissful, but then dad had died and it had all gone downhill from there.

“How on earth did your father even sign such a wicked contract?” Amaya asked after a brief spell of silence.

“I have been asking myself that question, Amaya, and I can't find an answer to it. The only thing that remotely makes sense would be that he didn't read the content, but even that doesn't make sense. He was a billionaire! He made a living off reading, understanding and, then, signing paperwork! I don't know why, all of a sudden, he would just forget to read a contract prepared by a woman who was clearly desperate. He was always known for being so meticulous so how couldn't he see that?”

At this point, Amaya pulled me in for a hug because I started to tear up. Neither one of us knew why or how my dad had signed those papers, but now that it had been done, the only thing to do was to find a way to move forward. But that was the problem: I didn't know if I would have the strength to move forward.

***

Natalya's POV:

“Food and servants at my beck and call, cars of luxury to choose from, at least one house in each of the fifty states of the nation and a bank account bubbling with billions.. This is the life..”

I was sitting, dressed in a bathrobe, soliloquizing as I sat in the master bedroom of what was now my home, Harold Johnson's mansion, which had a king sized bed and a frame that was giving “Game Of Thrones” vibes, not to talk of the giant window which was made to look royal and the comfy rugging. It all felt like a dream; getting him to sign the contract while he was drunk and then waiting for the perfect time when he would die of his excesses. And, now, I had all I wanted.

I was almost laughing out loud to myself when there was a knock on the open door.

“Who the..?” I was about to snap when the interrupter came in. My daughter, Jenna.

“Hi, mom,” she said, wearing Dior pajamas and clutching, in her hand, an Apple phone.

“Oh, hey, dear,” I said with a smile on my face, “Come on in..”

And she did, but from her body language and the way she was looking me in the eyes, I knew all was not well.

“What's the matter, honey?” I asked, concerned.

“The matter is you, mom. I waited until we got settled in before bringing it up. I told you, point blank, even before we ever came to be here, that Richard Temple was a man I wanted.. I told you this and I let you know that my sole aim was to strip Natalie, that b***h, of everything she owned. And then what do you do, mom? You go and make a proposition to Richard! I can't believe you did that! You really asked him to marry you in exchange for mercy for Natalie?”

“But, honey,” I tried to say in defense, “he didn't accept…”

“And what if he did? You would've married him and left Natalie with something, right? Wouldn't you, mom? Just like I thought, nothing to say.. Mother, we had a plan before we carried this out and we're going to execute it to the letter. Now, in case you forgot, I will remind you: We agreed that you would run the companies and make sure we didn't begin to lose money and that I would have whatever I wanted, beginning with Richard Temple!”

“Yes, yes, I remember.. But if he rejected me, what makes you think you have a chance?”

“Because I'm me, mother! And you're you! Whether or not he wants me doesn't matter; I will have him! What I need from you, mom, is an apology for attempting to take him away from me.”

I was speechless. Oftentimes, I would tend to forget that Jenna was an exact replica of me; both in bodily and emotional attributes. We were both overambitious, wanting the good things which other people had, whether it meant we had to take them out of the way or not. And, we were both bratty.

“Okay, honey.. I'm sorry,” I said, finally, “But you know, he was just so sexy..”

Jenna immediately cut me off.

“Mom, you're being creepy.. Yes, he is sexy, but you're old enough to be his mother. You're in your fifties, don't let all the makeup fool you; you're old. You can have any boy toy you want, I don't care, but Richard Temple is mine. Don't forget that, mom.”

And with that, she walked out of the room. As she left, I began to think. I had never told anybody this, but I was scared of her. Scared that, one day, when this wasn't going her way, she would make a move.. And get me out of the way.