My heart skips a beat as I watch him show me the certificate and I walk over to him to look at the paper certificate in his hand which holds my name and my signature as well as Keenan's name and his signature on it. My ears are still ringing from the married he said a few minutes and my eyes are now painful from staring at the paper too long, hoping that it would finally become blank.

How on earth did we get married? There was nothing that happened yesterday that even pointed to married so this makes no sense.

My mind is rising with different thoughts, from how this is going to affect my work and career and most importantly my relationship. Nothing from now is the same, no one is going to believe this just happened without us wanting it to. How can so much happen in so little space gap?

I look up at him, not knowing what to do next and needing to hear from him. “What do we do?”

The look on his face just like he's had since we saw each other this morning is a clueless one, “I honestly don't know at this point.” he blankly states.

After a quick thought, “We can burn it and no one will know?” I suggest brilliantly, wondering why he didn't even think of that idea all the while he saw the certificate, “you're welcome and a helpful lesson, it doesn't take much to be a genius.” I say cockily, handing him the paper.

“It won't work.” he scowls at me like I just made the worst in the history of worse suggestions. He doesn't collect the paper from my hand, but he continues to speak, “If what you're suggesting is that we burn it, it won't work, but thanks I've got enough brains and I've thought about that too.”

My brow arches, “Why not?” or is he just trying to make me look like a fool again.

He rolls his eyes and in the manner that screams 'what kind of idiot am I talking to?' aloud and this man is slowly pissing me off.

He closes his eyes briefly before opening them and he stares at me with eyes dimmed as though talking to someone who isn't bright enough, “Take a look at the paper in your hand, what colour is the paper printed in?”

I looked down at the paper in my hand, “Black and white.” I reply, my brow furrowing in confusion.

“So what does that tell you Miss Klean?” I look up at him feeling a little surprised and a little hurt because he'd taken my surname like my teachers in school used to.

So he's schooling me? The nerve!

I glance at the paper in my hand and though it takes me a moment, I finally get the point he's trying to make. I'm holding black and white printed paper because it's probably the photocopy of the original marriage certificate. “It is a photocopy.”

He nods a little impressed, “Exactly, and someone is with the original copy and that person was here last night.” he sighs deeply uttering some words in another language, “Non posso fare una piccola pausa! (I can't have a little break!)" He rubs his hand over his face, muttering, "They wanted us to get married.”

“No,” I shook my head, “I cannot marry you.”

His gazes soften almost immediately and he chuckles. His voice would have sounded heavenly to my ears if I wasn't in a mess, but now it's annoying as hell. “I'm not asking you to marry me love, ‘cause I wouldn't in a million years, I'm telling you that you already married to me and I to you,” he says still chuckling.

I step back shaking my head and refusing to believe what he just said.

Keenan may be rich, good and successful, but he isn't the top ten man when it comes to getting married to me. So the thought of even being in a union with him is infuriating as hell.

More memories run back into my head and I can not flush them out.

Our kiss got all the way deeper and rougher and his hand goes into my clothes and tightly caressed my body hidden in the clothes, and then helped me shrug my jacket off to the floor. He quickly got up, taking off his shirt like a giddy schoolboy and I watched his big arms rip the long sleeve he had on over his head, exposing his thick, built pecs and his rippling, ridged abs. His broad, muscular shoulders scrunched up as he moved, making him look even bigger than I already know him to be.

As he stretched to take off his shirt, I could see the top of his pubes sticking out of his loosely worn trousers, and the base of his thick throbbing manhood which I couldn't help but notice when Keenan began pulling off his pants. I bite my lips as I stared at him wanting nothing more than to have his body pressed against mine.

He unbuttoned his trousers and pulled down his zipper. His short is left on and I remember my eyes not wandering a bit from his full body as it came into full view.

I swallowed lustfully and I couldn't hide the urges, rushing through my whole body. I wanted this man in front of me, I wanted his body, I wanted him completely and I am going to have that.

“Like what you see?” he asked with a dark smirk coming on his face as he showed off all his features shamelessly.

“Every bit.” he came up towards me and when he was close enough, he seizes my mouth with his and after kissing for what seemed like forever, he pulls back, raising his brow at me.

“So what? You're gonna strip or something?” he asked, looking at my clothed hidden body as though it was already naked before his eyes.

I got up from the couch where I was and began to walk a little further from him, losing my steps a few times and giggling like a drunk teenager.

“Yo!” he called aloud, I turn around to his hungry eyes, “come on, show me what your mama gave you.” he placed his hands on both sides of his mouth and he exclaimed in a cheerful voice and clapped his hands rhythmically.

I blushed and I began unbuttoning my red shirt and when I was done I let it fall to the floor and he whistles wolfishly as his eyes claimed my exposed flesh like his own personal possession and I pulled the zipper of my skirt down and I pulled it off leaving only my panties and bra on.

“Fuck!” he cussed, exhaling out loudly through his mouth.

There is so much lust in his blue eyes and he doesn't try to hide it. His eyes settle on my bra-covered breast and licking his lips slowly then bites down on his already swollen lower lips.

I came to him and got between his solid and firm legs, kneeling before him like an obedience little girl and I let my finger graze him, from his neck to his shoulder blade and a thick moan erupt from his throat and he closed his eyes when my hand went into his boxer briefs. I touched his most private possession and he growled before his eyes closed lazily and he bites his lips hungrily.

His eyes opened and they carefully watched me as I rubbed him slowly, the best way I could and his moans were thicker and laboured as I pulled him out of his briefs. Weakening shivers ran down my spine as I stared at him, my eyes wide.

He was big...

Immediately he asked, “You haven't done this before have you babe?” his words told me he had taken note of my confusion as I stared at him.

I shook my head and I blushed, feeling a little embarrassed, because he knew I hadn't done it before just by looking at me, “No I haven't.”

“I can tell.” he smirked and continued, “You don't have to.” he began to say, but his voice goes weak towards the end as I gripped him hard with my hand and began to stroke him slowly.

“I want to please you,” I began to protest, but he kissed the protest back into my throat and pull me up onto his lap and I straddled him instead.

His cock stirred as it rested against my core. It felt completely weird, but exciting at the same time and I didn't think too long because Keenan pulled away.

“There are a lot of ways to do that. Così tanti modi per compiacere noi stessi (So many ways to please ourselves).” he pulled away to leave trails of kisses down my neck and I quivered in response and my core trembled from neediness when he began to rub off against me.

I wanted him and it was so obvious.

His large hands grabbed my butt and folded them between his hands while he kept grinding his still growing cock against him and I moaned aloud gridding against him even as I kiss him deeper.

He began getting up and he helped wrap my legs around his waist and walked over to the counter. Once he got to the counter he dropped me on the top of it and then he took my now swollen lips possessively between his.

“Dance for me?” he pulled away and stared into my eyes.

I cupped his face with my small hands, still giggling like a stupid drunkard, “No music?” I hiccupped and closed my eyes when his lips met my neck again.

“Who said no music, Bella? (beautiful?)!” he kissed me quickly and pull away.

My mouth paused and twitched in fascination as I watch him walk a little farther into the bar and the next thing I knew John Legend's - Tonight's the night music began playing.

He came back to me and kisses my lips hungrily like he hadn't before and whispered, “Ti amo tanto Taylor (I love out so much Taylor)” before going to his seat back on the couch. “Dance for me, love,” he ordered.

I got up on the counter and I began dancing and swaying to the rhythm.

I shake my head and cover my mouth to stop a weak sob.

I may not speak or understand his Italian language, but I know the words he uttered to me before going to his seat were meant for Taylor and not me.

He kisses me and touched me, caressed me probably envisioning Taylor and he probably signed the papers thinking he was getting married to Taylor too. It hurts because these memories are not going to go away, they will be a part of me for a very long time, and that includes the fact that Keenan thought I was Taylor all the while he made out with me.

I was just the available substitute last night.

It hurt even more because my choices have been taken away from me. I have a boyfriend and how am I even going to go tell him about this? Levi does not deserve this, he's been too good that and being happy with him is what I wanted and deserve.

Everything that had happened last night was a setup and he knew about it, he had to. I'm not buying his "I don't know" bullshit! He must have known somehow!

“Are you even listening to me Ms Klean?” I hear him ask from across the bar and I refuse to give him the satisfaction of an answer.

I shake my head, “I'm leaving Mr Hilton.” I reply instead and begin to walk away. This... everything that has happened ever since I woke up is making me go crazy. It's like this house is cursed and I need to get out of here!

“Where are you going?” he demands trailing behind me as I keep walking.

I decide to take offence at the demand in his voice and I don't care to look back at him, “I'm going home, you told me to remember?”

“That was before I found out we were married."

Oh, that's it!

I talk a deep breath, my patients shortening with every passing minute. One he takes my choice and now he's trying to take my freedom and tell me where to go and where not to go? How dare he?

I turn to him, cross my arms over my chest and I glare at him, “So you're telling me that changes something?”

“It changes everything and I do think you should stay awhile, at least until we both figure out a way out of this.”

His voice is pleading, but I'm not having that and my brow rises challengingly, “If I say I wanna go what are you going to do then?”

“Nothing,” he replies with a calmness I am not expecting.

Why won't he be calm? This is all his doing!!

I hiss in annoyance, “This is all your fault.”

“Excuse me?” he immediately challenges with an arched brow.

“You heard me," I fire back, already having my glass filled with his rubbish and having no more, "this is all because you couldn't handle your feeling and so you chose to hide from them by getting drunk. You pulled me into this mess!” I lash out and he flinches back but before he can find an answer, his phone ring from somewhere across the room and he steps away from me and behind to search for it.

Here's your go chance, leave. My inner voice tells me, but for an unknown reason, I decide to stay. And I watch as he searches for his phone and when he finally finds it from under the couch, he answers and places it to his ear.

“Hello, Dad.” 

“I'm okay Dad,” he pauses and his brow draws together slowly, “Yes she's here,” he asks, his voice getting suspicious immediately.

Then his eyes widen. “You want me to what?!”

“Okay, sir,” he removes the phone from his ear and pressed a button on the phone and the phone goes into a loudspeaker.

He walks toward me before saying, “He wants to talk to you.”

I'm a little uncertain and a lot of questions are running through my head, how did he know I am at his son's place? He was at the office when we left last night and I didn't see him when we came in. This is all too fishy I tell myself, but I choose to brush that away and talk to Patrick Hilton, the nice old man I've been fortunate to run into once or twice these past years at the hotel. He couldn't have done anything wrong.

“Good morning, Sir.”

“Good morning, Ms Klean, or should I say, Mrs Hilton.”