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Chapter [x] – Option 4 (Edited Gently)
My mind went down the old memory lane...
Grrrr!! I grunted as I grabbed Gladys's hand and scrambled toward the door, coughing hard. I pushed the door open and ran towards only-God-knows-where. There was just one voice ringing in my head, keeping my sanity, keeping me from falling apart. It kept saying one thing — I had to survive. I couldn't afford to die. Not after everything. At least not when I didn't understand anything about that strange man or how I even got here.
No!! I tried to yell. I could feel myself mouthing it, but there was no sound—just the furious snorts and occasional curses that sounded like hums from Gladys. My legs began to convulse, and my whole body followed suit. I was wondering what warranted this much hate from someone who wasn't even a close associate. I kept wondering what Leah had told her to make her hate me this deeply, or even try to kill me. Just what did I do to deserve this?!
Damn this evil world!! I didn't have the luxury to think back or remember anything I might have done to hurt any of them. Not when the large, dark door fell straight to the ground. I turned to see that same familiar silhouette standing over Gladys's door, which was now now pitifully lying on the floor with it's owner.
And yes, again—I blacked out immediately as the figure approached me. But this time, it ran toward me with rushed steps...
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I woke up to the same familiar yet unfamiliar plafond... again. But this time, I was in better condition, a more stable state—even though it followed yet another near-death experience. This place felt like home. Maybe it was due to my current dilemma, or maybe because I didn't have anywhere else to go. I couldn't return to Leah and Max—not after they almost killed me. I couldn't go to a co-worker's place either. I wasn't that close to any of them. Not to the point of living with them.
And I couldn't afford to trust anyone else. Right now, I'd rather trust a total stranger than people I'd known my entire life.
I looked at the tall figure standing by the window. His broad shoulders, lean waist, long muscular legs, and blonde hair.
"Have you had your fill?" he asked, turning to look at me.
It was then I noticed his amber eyes. I didn't have the luxury to wonder how he saw me or if he had eyes at the back of his head, because I was too startled by the way he abruptly walked towards me in long strides.
"Aren't you just amusing?" he said.
I didn't know why, but I felt a wave of cold rush down my spine... and goosebumps?? Or was it the weather? But—no—it's summer. I couldn't explain this negative feeling, but I knew this man was someone I could never, ever afford to offend. His aura was just too... overwhelming?
I knew I was supposed to yell at him for being a pervert or for keeping a woman hostage. Or maybe I should act like a scaredy-cat (which I wasn't). Or at least pretend to be wary. But I didn't. Or maybe I couldn't.
Anyway, I decided to go with the flow. He didn't seem dangerous. Not in that way.
So I asked, "In what way am I amusing, sir?"
"Well, that was late," he said, "You're amusing in every way. Also, just call me Andrew. We're getting married after all."
My mind instantly went blank for a split second.
It all started rushing back—this man... Xavier... and the burly guy. That's when it occurred to me—we actually had a conversation. Me and this oppressive man.
He reached toward the table next to the bed, and my heart jumped so hard I was scared it'd leap out of my chest. We were so close. Just inches apart. My heartbeat—it was so loud, I could hear it. I started moving back for fear he'd hear it too. That would be even more awkward. But immediately as I stretched my legs, trying to scoot away, an icy hand pinned my wrist to the bed.
He stared briefly, then dropped a file onto my lap.
I unconsciously let out a sigh of relief. And he noticed.
He chuckled.
That was when I noticed the deep dimple on his left cheek. It was so cute!! And I felt another attack on my poor heart.
Right then, I decided—no matter what business I had with this gorgeous man—now, in the future, or anywhere else—I had to be wary. Because I could get a heart attack at this rate.
"Little blonde, why are you so flustered?" he asked, gazing straight into my eyes.
And I felt a nagging feeling that the amusement I saw in those eyes could lead to another—
And yes, it did.
That same breathtaking dimple popped out of nowhere again and swept me off my feet. Once more.
'Little blonde'??? In what way was I little? And why the hell was that stupid name giving me these... tingling sensations?
Right there and then, I concluded that this man was one of the most dangerous weapons in the world. I had to be careful around him.
"A penny for your thoughts?" he said, invading my thoughts again.
That was when I noticed the intimate position we were in. My instincts kicked in and I immediately pushed his chest roughly. He frowned for a split second—or so I thought—so I looked carefully at his face. But he was back to expressionless as he pointed at the brown file on my lap.
I immediately recognized it as the one he had given me earlier, before I went to Gladys's house. I hesitated, remembering the contents of the file. But I opened it anyway.
There it was—the same marriage contract. Only now, there were two copies. My name, and a name I assumed was his, were boldly written on them. Two signature spots labeled "Bride" and "Groom."
He pulled the papers out completely from the file, reached for a pen (which I hadn't noticed inside the folder), and shoved it into my palm.
"Read the marriage agreement and sign. We're going to get our certificate tomorrow. I'll make adjustments to things that are reasonable," he said, emphasizing that last word.
It just felt like he was speaking gibberish at that moment. How was I supposed to get married to a stranger?? And why was he talking about marriage like he was discussing the weather?
His eyebrows furrowed as he adjusted himself to face me directly.
"I understand how you feel right now. But trust me, you don't need to be scared of me. I can't say much right now, but rest assured—I won't hurt you. And this marriage will benefit you more than it will me. Please read the contract."
That was the most I'd ever heard him say since we met. I think that's what compelled me to read it.
I lowered my head to get a better view of the tiny words, and what I saw shocked me to the core.
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Terms of the Marriage Contract:
Both parties must stay off social media or public appearances for the duration of the contract.
There'll be only necessary—or no—conversation between them.
Both parties must stay in separate rooms.
Both have the freedom to be in relationships with others.
No contact between them during the six months.
Identities must remain confidential.
The couple will part ways after six months.
No physical or emotional ties allowed.
N/B: If either party breaches the contract, they will be taken to court and punished according to the law.
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WTF?!! I was completely dumbfounded. How was any of this in my favor? Okay, I knew it wasn't in his either, but this was pure craziness!!
And worst of all—his expression screamed: "You're so ungrateful," like he'd just handed me a million dollars and I wasn't content.
"Listen," he said, "I'm sure you've noticed I'm a man of few words. I hate situations where I have to go to this extent to make you do something that's in your best interest. I just need you to sign the contract, and you won't regret it. I'll help you get your pound of flesh. I can't tell you much, but know this—it's just an exchange. Your signature in return for vengeance, wealth, status, and a lot more than you can wish for. So let's pause the drama and get this done."
He snapped coldly.
We stayed silent for a long moment as I let my eyes wander around the room. The silence was deafening. I fell into deep contemplation.
Under normal circumstances, I wouldn't even consider such a crazy request. But when I weighed the pros and cons, I realized—I didn't have anywhere to go. And that word kept ringing in my head:
Vengeance.
Also, my gut feeling—which had never failed me—was telling me that this would lead to good results. Though this man looked scary, and I couldn't afford to mess with anyone in my condition... I had very good luck. I always got a six when I rolled a die. And I had good casino luck.
The only time my luck glitched was when I met that scum Max and the bitch Leah.
And the stern expression on Andrew's face told me he wouldn't hesitate to use extreme measures to get my signature. So why not take the gamble?
I reasoned with myself, then took the pen and scribbled my signature.
He looked up at me with visible surprise, like he had expected me to be adamant.
From the moment I signed that paper...
I knew I had gotten into something extraordinary.