The phone line ends, leaving me torn and anxious about what to do next and I get too occupied that I do not expect the knock that comes on my door, causing me to jump, a bit startled almost immediately.

An unpleasant feeling coils in my stomach as I debate whether to open the door for the stranger sent here by Keenan to pick me up.

‘What if Keenan aims to get you killed?!’ my pessimistic mind yells at me. ‘That way, he won’t have to go through the trouble of divorce. What then?’

I won’t say he’s not that kind of person, because he’s a man in love and people who are in love sometimes do crazy things like getting rid of anyone in the way of their happiness. I’ve seen how Keenan acts out when Taylor is discussing, and I know his love for that woman is too deep and he’ll move every mountain if it’ll help him get to her.

I’m the number one person in the way of that. And never has my life been so endangered as it is now. Am I overthinking or is there a possibility that what I’m saying is true?

I run over to the drawer close to my bed and take out a pen and tear out a piece of paper. I, more than anything else, now need to leave a trail of evidence behind just in case something happens to me. Alian should know who handles it.

Dear Alian, 

I know I’m leaving so suddenly, but the things that have happened in the last twenty-four hours seem to have changed my whole life. It’s funny how twenty-four hours is just one day, yet capable of changing a lot of things in your life.

I thought I’d be able to tell you everything in person, but Keenan sent for me and I’m going to live with him as his wife.

Crazy right? But it’s the truth. You should believe it.

Anyway, I’m not happy about it and neither is Keenan and I’m scared he’d do something to me, like kill me.

So if you ever see my dead body on the TV or hear of it over the news, know who did it. Love you.

Varisha Klean.

The knock grows louder and I scribble over the paper into my diary and place it on top of the drawer before walking out to the living room and preventing the man from breaking it down.

I open the door and stare up at the man in black standing before me. He was bigger up close, but I was angry that he was ready to bring my door down because of his boss’s order as if his boss had a hand in getting me this place.

“You seriously weren’t planning on bringing the door down, were you?” I demand through gritted teeth, glaring at the mountain of a man standing in front of me.

“Mr Hilton asked to bring you over.” He explains, his voice thick and scary. If I wasn’t so pissed off, I would shit myself at how terrifying he was.

I roll my eyes, “Well, did he say you have to drag me along?” I rhetorically ask, crossing my hands over my chest stubbornly.

“He said to apply force if necessary.” He painted out.

I can’t believe that he gave that also as an option. That bastard!

I hiss, feeling disgusted and irritated at the thought of being forced along with this nonsense, “I’m not a dog that you just drag everywhere. Your boss is a monster! I will press charges if you lay a hand on me!.”

“You can, but Mr Hilton knew this might be what you were going to do, so I came prepared and you’re not getting out of this house except it’s into the car Ms Klean,” he tells me in a matter-of-fact tone.

The nerve!

‘Take a deep breath, Vary,’ I tell myself

There are things I’d like to argue about most days, but it’s certainly not if the big man here can make real on his promises. He can and he will.

I swallow hard. “Are you going to tie me up, then?” I asked with a teasing smile, knowing my anger is only going to get me into trouble.

“Not necessarily, but we might if you choose to be stubborn and rebellious.” He put forth with a determined tone.

If I’m going to die, then I rather die in one piece than be in shred.

“Fine, I’m going.” I raise my finger, “but just know it’s not willingly.” he ushers me with his hand and I roll my eyes, “at least let me get my handbag.”

And so I followed him into the car and he drives us to Keenan's residence, aka my nightmare.

Once the car comes to a stop I get down, not waiting for Roberto, who is getting down open my door. So he then moves on to take my bag into the awaiting nightmare called a house.

Shame on them, trying to fool me to my slaughter.

We walk in and once inside the house Roberto closes the door and we walk further into the rather quiet house.

“They are in the study, come,” he explains and leads me through the passageway. We arrive at the door and Roberto knocks on the door gently.

“Come in.” comes Keenan's deep voice, and it sends chills down my spine. Talk about sweet torture.

Roberto turns the doorknob and widely opens the door for me to enter first and I do. When I walk into the study room, I see two men in black suits seated on the coffee-coloured couch, one looking to be in his mid-fifties and the other late twenties. Their attention and focus are on the documents each of them has before them, analysing them carefully.

My eyes go to the end of the room where Keenan sat and before him on the desk is also a file in his hand. He looks up from the document and his eyes slowly meet mine with a dubious look and I look away.

He smiles, and he only infuriates me with that act. “See, you finally came. I knew you’d be an obedient little girl when the right pressure was applied.”

I see him wink from the corner of my eyes, and my nose scrunches up in disgust. “You told me to take the day off, and rest and that was what I was doing before you came and dragged me out of my house!” I explode at him, not minding the others present in the study who might listen in to their conversation.

He gets up and strides towards me, “To a better house.” he retorts and I feel like punching his stupid face, “You told me you loved this house better last night.” He reminds me with an absolute tone.

‘I told him last night?’ I ask myself, ‘Does that mean....?’

“I remember everything that happened last night, Ms Klean,” he whispers into my ears and my legs go weak, and he pulls away and stares into my eyes. “And I’m sure you do too, so there’s no reason to argue over what we have already done.”

“Why am I here?” I ask, folding my arms over my chest and raising a brow at him.

“Because according to the prenup which they,” he points to the lawyers “Have been reviewing, one clause is that we to be genuine couples ‘cause this is an actual marriage after all.”

My brows draw together, “What does ‘be a genuine couple’ even mean?”

His head lowers slowly, so our faces are only inches apart. “We will have to live together, go out together, eat together, and probably sleep together as couples do.”

What the hell?!

“What the hell do you mean by sleep together as normal couples do?! We are far from what a normal couple should be.” I snap at him in my hushed voice, even angrier than I have ever been before this madness began.

“Calm down, love.” His finger slightly lifts and strokes my cheeks softly and shivers run down my spine and I bite down on my lips to keep any moan or responses concealed. It was so obvious that I will not resist him so much and he will not stop, so I backed away, but he wraps his arms around my waist as if reading my thought and plans for escape and pulls me even much closer to his body.

My heart rises and flops, and I stare at him. I feel a little scared and a little curious to know if he’s about to kiss me.

“You don’t have to be scared, I will not hurt you, I’m your husband after all,” he smirks and his lips brush over mine and my eyes shutters as he moves the kiss to my neck and his tongue laps on the skin there and I felt my body melt into his. His left hand leaves my waist and moves up my stomach and then higher to the mould of my breast. He fondles it delicately and his thumb rubs over my dress and my nipples harden at his caress and I moan out, unable to hide the reaction of the pleasure he’s silently giving me.

I hear him chuckle and I open my eyes and my cheek flush in utmost embarrassment when I noticed the younger attorney’s eyes fixate on us.

Oh great, I’m not only losing control, but I’m also losing it in public.

I briefly close my eyes, and when I open them again, I pull away from him. “Never touch me again,” I say through gritted teeth.

“Why?” he asks, his blue eyes dropping a bit in a dramatic sadness, “I know you love it whenever I touch you,” as he says this, his hands lower to my butt and he squeezes them hard, making a gasping sound escape my lips.

I push against his rigid chest, trying to get free from him, “Show me some fucking respect, for goodness’ sake, we are not alone!”

He doesn’t let go or seem bothered by what I said, but his gaze moves over to his attorneys and he glares at the younger one when he sees him looking at us and the intimidated young lawyer immediately looks away.

“Now we are alone.” He announces and pulls me even closer than before.

I grit my teeth and turn my face away from him. “You are good at seeing things. I bet you’re seeing Taylor right here.” I bite out at him.

That seems to have had the impact I want because he let go and moved away from me. Oh, that’s the right button to push. I’ll remember that from now on and whenever he tries to make a move on me, I can pull out that card.

“I don’t see things,” he says harshly as he furthers steps away and goes to his seat and sat.

“Come on, you don’t have to lie. Apparently, we are the ‘only ones’ here and I already know the truth.” I shrug, pushing at his button as hard as I can. Since we are the ‘only ones here,’ he shouldn’t be ashamed of admitting the truth, right? He started it and I will finish it.

“I do not see things Ms— Mrs—” he shuts his eyes briefly before opening them again. “I only do when I’m drunk,” he admits, not so happy with the truth.

A mischievous smirk crawls its way into my face as I know I’ve won this round. It feels so good to be in control for once!

“Did you get to talk to your boyfriend?” he asks, changing the subject, and the smirk disappears off my face. Seriously, can’t he let me feel like a champ for at least five minutes?

Seeing the quick change in my expression, he dismisses the lawyers with a snap of his fingers and the room is empty in the next minute, leaving the two of us alone in the room.

The last thing I want in my dictionary with him is the word alone.

I nod, “Yeah, I did.” My answer is short and very simple.

“How did things go? Is he okay with everything that has happened?” he asks with concern, not like I need one from him, anyway.

“What do you think?” I demand with a bruising brow, mainly because my heart has beaten rapidly and painfully within it. “Would you be happy if the woman you have loved with all your heart in the last two years and have built a future with suddenly shows up in your house and tells you she’s married to her boss who by the way is successful and filthy rich with more luxury than you could ever afford?”

He flinches back in his seat like my words just electrified him. “No, I won’t,” he replied with a remorseful shake of his head. “Did he say all that to you?” he gets up from his seat and approaches me.

I shrug casually, “More or less.” I am not willing to visit the past, especially if it’s a painful one.

“I’m sorry. The last thing I ever want is to have someone else trapped in this nightmare I call a life. You are sweet and certainly deserve better than this.”

I might have my problem, but the last thing I want is to see him this way, sad, depressed, sorrowful and in pain and even though I hate his cocky self, I’d rather have him than this miserable one.

“What do we do now?” I ask, this time changing the topic.

He stretches his hand to the desk and picks up a file before handing it to me and pointing to a particular part on the paper, “According to the prenup, we have to stay married for six months before filing for a divorce and during those times, we will have to live together as couples.”

Six months?! Six freaking months together?

As if reading my thought he adds, “We will live in the same house, Vary, but not together.”

“Is that even possible? Six months is a long time.” I point out doubtfully.

“No, it wouldn’t have been possible if we were attracted to each other, because we wouldn’t be able to keep our hands off each other before then,” as he says this his blue eyes meet mine and damn, I’d be crazy if I say I wasn’t attracted to them already. “But, as it is, you can barely stand my gut and I, you, so...” he takes the paper away from my hand and finally looks away, giving me the chance to breathe down, “the only things we should worry about are damages we might inflict on one another while we stay here.”

I blow out a fast breath, “Better our bodies than our hearts, right?” I ask, cracking up a not-so-funny laugh.

“Yeah, I agree.” he agrees with a firm nod.