Chapter Four
1012 Words
Sydney's POV
'From Nobody to Mrs. Blackwood: The Cinderella Story Everyone’s Talking About'
I slammed the lid of my Mac and tossed it aside gently. This was the story on everyone's lips.
I exhaled and sank into the warmth next to me.
Nicholas didn’t say a word. He lifted his arm, inviting me in without looking away from whatever muted documentary was playing on the screen. I nestled into his side, letting my head find that perfect spot on his chest; the one that rose and fell with the quiet rhythm of his breathing.
The comforting scent of his cologne, leather, and sandalwood mixed with fresh pine. The type that makes you want to breathe deeper just to feel safe.
“You’re overthinking again,” he murmured, his fingers grazing the bare skin of my arm in slow, lazy circles. Each touch sent shivers down my spine. My body never got tired of his touch. It always felt like he was touching me for the first time.
I smiled against the soft cotton tee he was putting on. “I wasn't overthinking. I was... strategically planning my next meltdown.”
His chest shook with a low chuckle. “You’re terrible at lying.”
I loved to hear him laugh. It did things to my belly and my core.
It had been over three months since I got married to Nicholas Zaffari. Since my life changed from a lowly unemployed girl to the wife of the richest man in New York.
Our marriage was on the news, and pictures of me were spread all over different blog posts. I was watched wherever I went by journalists and my bodyguards.
I went from wearing thrifted designer items to getting them before those on a waitlist.
Surprisingly, Nicholas was good to me. He was still cold and emotionless for the most part, but I knew where I stood with him. Since the night after the gala, we have had s*x almost every day, and I have never made use of the guestroom.
We had been on two trips to different countries. Nicholas spoiled me silly, and sometimes I felt it was all too good to be true.
I couldn't help but wonder what he was really getting out of everything. He knew everything about me, but I knew nothing about him, only the careful stories on the Internet.
I knew that his father was dead, but that was all. There was no information on his other family.
"Nicholas," I called hesitantly, twirling a loose thread at the hem of his shirt.
"Hmm," he answered absentmindedly. His eyes focused on the television screen while his arms continued their massage on my skin.
"What about your family?"
His hands stopped their movement, and everywhere became deathly still. Only the narrator's voice from the TV was heard.
"Ouch," I landed with a thud on the floor. Nicholas had gotten up forcefully.
I got up quickly and glared at him while rubbing my sore behind.
His jaw tightened, and the warmth in his eyes vanished, replaced by a cool, unreadable glaze. His eyes narrowed as if the question had struck a nerve.
“That’s not something you need to know,” he said flatly, his voice low and clipped.
"But..." I tried to reason, but he cut me off.
"I think we may have overstepped our boundaries. This is only a contract marriage, Sydney," He said." Remember that this is not real. I don't do love, Sydney. Remember that."
He left me standing in the living room, too stunned to speak.
Cold Nicholas Zaffari was back. The one that the world knew was not one that I had seen in the last few weeks. My stupid heart had believed that he was Ice and I, the fire that would melt him. But I was wrong. Women like me could never get through to a man like Nicholas.
Two days later, while I was still in bed, my phone rang. I snatched it up from the bedstand. I had been sleeping in the guest room since I had asked Nicholas about his family. I waited till he had gone to work to get out of bed. I even asked the cook to bring my meals to my room. I felt embarrassed for thinking that Nicholas and I had gotten closer.
I looked at the caller ID and sighed.
Colton.
He had called several times since the gala night, and I had refused to pick up his call. He had sent several messages pleading that I would give him a second chance, but I never replied.
I didn’t want to talk to the man who let me walk into that interview, thinking I’d be humiliated. I didn’t want to talk to the man who held my hand while sleeping with my best friend. A man who never believed in me or loved me.
But Colton was persistent that morning. He was blowing up my phone consistently. Irritated by his annoying calls, I picked up.
"What do you want, Colton? My blood?" I yelled into the phone.
"No, I want you," he replied gently, and I laughed in disbelief.
"After everything?" I asked, "What makes you think that I would want to go back to you?"
"I know I messed up big time, but I realize how much I love you, Syd."
I scoffed at the nickname he coined out of my name, "You want me now because I look better than when I was with you. Well, newsflash, I am a married woman. Married to a man, you can never come close to tying his shoelace."
He snorted, and I wished I could see him physically and tear his blond hair away from his head.
I was about to hang up when he said, "You are making a mistake. Zaffari isn't who you think he is."
I held onto the phone tightly, "At least he's not a liar."
I ended the call breathing heavily, like I had just run a marathon.
I raised my head to see Nicholas at the door.
- Writer
