ChapterTwo
1436 Words
Nicholas's POV
I felt a nerve in my jaw twitch, and I rubbed my cheek unconsciously. The room was silent, and everyone held their breath like I was some freaking time bomb. Their reaction was normal because no one dared lift a finger against Nicholas Zaffari and went away whole.
Oddly enough, I didn't feel angry; instead, there was curiosity.
Marcus, my head of security, moved to call the security downstairs to stop the girl, but I raised a finger to stop him, and he nodded, dropping the telephone.
"Who is she?" I asked Helen; my HR, who was still looking flabbergasted by what had just happened. I couldn't blame her. It was not every day someone waltzed in and slapped the CEO.
She scrambled for the file before her: "Sydney Muller, Twenty-four. She applied for the position of an intern."
She rolled her eyes."Well, not anymore." She added the last bit dryly.
I nodded slowly; Sydney, huh.
There was something about her that intrigued me, something that made my body come alive. A feeling I hadn't experienced in a long time.
Normally, any other person would not see the light of day, but she reminded me of someone I once loved, someone I had lost forever. Green eyes and a spirit that could wage war with a stormy sea.
I turned to Marcus. "Find her," I ordered, and he nodded his head.
Sydney Muller had walked into my lair willingly, and I didn't like being hit, much less by a woman. My ego was hurt, and I had to do something about it.
Sydney's POV
I felt the hotness of the morning sun on my face and turned away from my window, but I was hit by a very strong ache in my head. I squeezed my eyes from the amount of pain I was feeling.
I opened my eyes slowly, to the familiar ceiling above me. The cold ache from the previous day returned with full force. I sat up in my bed and reached for my phone on the nightstand.
Twenty-one missed calls from Colton. There were several messages from him asking if I was okay.
I sighed and tossed the phone away. How did he expect me to be okay after finding out that he was a cheat and a liar?
Throwing my bed cover, I dragged my legs to the bathroom and caught sight of my reflection, and gagged. I was a mess. There were streaks of mascara down my cheeks, and my bright red lipstick was smeared all over my face.
Yesterday was horrible. I was so distraught. I had cried so much while reminiscing over all the times I had spent with Colton.
I called him after the interview in my rage. But Lily had picked up the call and told me straight up that she and Colton were having an affair and that Colton never loved me.
I was still trying to fix my face when, suddenly, I heard the bell ring.
I paused before returning to washing my face. It was probably Colton or Liliy, and I was nowhere ready to face them.
But the ringing was persistent, each shrill sound sharpening the sound of my heartbeat. With my hands clenched tight, not just from anxiety, but from the fury simmering beneath my skin.
I marched to the door. I would give them a piece of my mind. They thought I was weak. That was why they decided to play this heavy prank on me, but it's a joke on them because I have a spine. I proved it yesterday when I slapped Nicholas Zaffari.
I opened the door, my mouth open, ready to lash out, but the words died in my throat the moment I saw who was behind the door.
Nicholas Zaffari
I shut the door quickly, my back against the wood. What was he doing here? How did he find me? My mind raced with thousands of thoughts. Oh my God! Was he here to arrest me for yesterday's slap?
There were two loud knocks on the door, and I jumped, startled.
Go away, go away, please! I clasped my hands together and chanted the words like a mantra.
The knock rapped again, this time precise and louder. I moved away from the door, my heart thrashing around my ribcage, and opened it slowly.
Nicholas stood before me, unmoving. He was dressed in a tailored suit, and his hair slicked back in its normal fashion. His blue eyes were fixed on me.
He watched me with the laziness of a lion studying its weak prey, and a slight shiver ran through my body. He moved toward me, and I took a step backwards until he was in the middle of my little, messy apartment.
With both hands tucked in his pocket, he looked too large for my house. I looked everywhere but at him.
His voice was the first thing that cut the silence.
“You come for an interview, slap the CEO, then run out of his building with no explanation. That’s bold.”
I swallowed hard. “It was a mistake.”
He raised an eyebrow. “The slap or the interview?”
“Both.”
He nodded.
“I should blacklist you from every company in New York,” he said casually, stepping toward me. “But I’m not going to.”
“Why not?”
There was trepidation in my voice.
He stopped inches away.
“Because I don’t believe in coincidences. You walked into my office from a war you didn’t start. And you fought. I respect that.”
I stared at him, confused. “What do you mean?"
He smiled faintly. "You see, I did some digging into your life and found out about your boyfriend and his little scheme with my HR."
My mouth formed an 'O', and I nodded in understanding.
"How did you find me?"
He chuckled lowly, a sound that sent shivers down my spine.
"I am a Zaffari, I can find anyone." There was arrogance dripping in each word as he spoke them, but it didn't explain why he was in my apartment.
"So what do you want from me?"
“A proposition.”
It was my turn for my eyebrow to shoot up.
He put his hand into the inside of his jacket and pulled out a manila envelope. He handed it to me, and I took it with shaky fingers.
I opened the envelope and my eyes widened.
“A two-year contract. I'll pay you well, and in return...”
“In return, what?” I asked slowly.
He leaned in, his voice low.
“You’ll act as my wife.”
I blinked uncontrollably. How many pranks could one person take?
What the hell was Nicholas Zaffari smoking?
“Excuse me?”
“Temporary,” he added smoothly. “I need someone who can play the role without falling apart. Someone with nothing left to lose. You fit the bill.”
I laughed, the sound sharp and bitter.
“You’re insane.” I scoffed.
“Maybe,” he replied. “But you need this.”
He took a step closer.
"I checked your background; you are dirt poor, don't have a job, and, by the looks of it, there is no boyfriend in sight as well. We both know you need this money."
He was right, of course, but there was one thing.
“Why me? And why did you need a contract wife? You can get any girl you want."
"You have nothing to lose, Sydney," he replied, his eyes narrowed in a calculating manner. "And the way you slapped me, that was unexpected. I'm not gonna lie, I was intrigued, curious to know who you were. To answer your question about why the contract, I don't believe in love, and tongues are already wagging, wondering why I wasn't married at Thirty-Nine. This marriage will get them off my back for a bit."
I still stared at him in disbelief. Nothing made sense. I couldn't clean Nicholas's shoes, let alone become his wife.
Everything was moving too fast. A few days ago, I was just a girl with a mountain of debt, a loving boyfriend, and a sweet best friend. But all that shattered in the blink of an eye. Now, one of the world's hottest billionaires was asking me to become his wife.
“What do you get out of this?”
He didn’t blink.
“Revenge.”
"From who?"
His jaw locked, and he raised a corner of his lips in a senile smile. "Patience, Sydney, you'll see."
- Writer
