by Celia Crown
“Hayden and I wanted Mari’s secret to be known, but there wasn’t a good time to do it.”
The woman looks down at her notes and nods with a hum, “I see. In what ways does this affect your brand? There must be lots of disgruntled fans because technically, you have been lying to them.”
He answers back without missing a beat, “We have never deliberately said Marionette isn’t a real woman.”
“How did you meet?” the woman moves on, flicking her eyes over to Mari who’s leaning on his wide chest.
She adds, “Many people are curious as to the origins of Marionette, how did this inspiration come up?”
James remanence on the memories of their first meeting, “We met at the airport.”
He keeps their private life to himself, he’s not that generous to share Mari with the world when they already got Marionette.
“Please elaborate.”
He grounds his teeth, “I’ve only agreed to do this interview for the sole reason of putting this whole ordeal behind us. Marionette is a real girl, and she’s Mari. They both belong to me. That’s all you’re getting.”
James uses the hand on her thigh to pat her jean covered leg, she jumps off him as he stands with the camera following his movements by the skilled hands of the cameraman.
Their interview is a one-on-one meeting between a respected reporter, but he has a low tolerance to those who pry into his personal life. Reporters are vultures and it’s well known around the community that James Novak is not a man to take on without ammunition and even then, no one has ever won against him.
That’s why no one has ever tried to go down the rabbit hole of Marionette’s secret. They would like to keep their job and life, who knows what kind of things a man with a long army history background can do to them.
James estimated the time for this meeting and the potential questions, and he explicitly said no personal questions. Everything about Marionette is personal because Mari’s privacy will not be invaded by curious viewers.
He can answer questions about his museum and the confirmation of a real-life Marionette through his words and a live broadcast.
“Come, we’re leaving.” James circles around Mari’s waist, guiding her out the door.
He doesn’t spare a glance behind him as the rustling of papers and the woman’s voice calling after him. The door shuts with a solid snap, throwing the message to the people in the room that they will not follow them, or else consequences will happen.
Mari looks confused, eyes darting around their surrounding as he walks her to the back of the building where his car is parked. He opens the passenger door open for her, she ducks her head under his arm and jumps into the seat with her big eyes following his large body as he hastily makes his way to the driver side.
“That was quick,” she comments, her platinum strands bounce when his car awakens with a nice purr.
He leans over, yanking the seatbelt over her round tits with his eyes struggling between her green eyes or those two supple delicacies.
A click sets the precautionary measure in place, he dives in for a kiss. She returns his enthusiasm with her inexperienced one, she makes it up with eagerness.
“Just because the world knows you’re mine doesn’t give them the right to know you,” he grunts, just thinking of the number of photos of her circulating in the world makes his skin crawl. What’s done is done, but a man has to set his boundaries when it comes to his woman.
Every quirkiness she has, only he can see them.
“Mr. Novak,” she calls his attention, he gives it to her with a quirk of an eyebrow.
“Your phone is ringing.”
It took a minute before the ringtone hits his ears, this is bad; he’s been too into Mari these days that he’s losing his edge as a former army. Though Mari is very distracting in her own ways, she’s a captivatingly beautiful woman and it’s not his fault for being so immersed in her every move.
“What is it?” he growls over the receiver.
His eyes dart from one side to another as cars from the main street zooms pass the back-road entrance, his hand grips the steering wheel harshly as his nails dig into the thick material.
“Fine,” he barks with dark eyes flaring in impatience.
Hayden’s voice notes several points to him and his eyes wander towards Mari who stares at him with wonder, his throat loosens when her small hand pats his hand on the steering wheel. He does that when she did something to make him proud, and she’s doing this in a similar fashion where she wants him to breathe.
“We’ll be there, but don’t expect me to have any patience for bullshit.”
He cuts off the line and drops it on the cupholder, he switches hands and cups her cheek with his free hand.
“There’s a formal conference in two hours, sweetheart. Do you think you can handle it?”
He’s worried about her body; he made love to her so many times that he has lost count during the night, they woke up early in the morning for this exclusive interview which ended up a disaster as he specifically said no personal questions. Now, there’s a formal conference being held in two hours because he couldn’t control his temper and walked out of a live broadcast with Mari.
Fans are divided between this being an elaborate marketing campaign, some think Mari on the live broadcast is an artificial intelligence or it’s not a live show at all. The other side of the fans is delighted that Marionette is a real person and they want to meet her.
Hayden has a point, he needs to settle this once and for all before it takes a toll on Mari’s body.
“I can, Mr. Novak. I want to help you.”
So considerate, his little doll is too kind to him.
“After this, we’ll leave for a while. You wanted to explore, didn’t you?”
Her green eyes light up with the most dazzling smile on her face, it’s contagious as he feels his own lips twitch to match her happiness and anticipation that rolls off her body like steam.
This is how Mari is different from Marionette.
She’s just a young girl ready to explore the world with him by her side like the diligent protector he is. She’s not bound by the secrecy or the heavy burden of being perfect for photos, she’s just Mari.
No eyes looking at her through the camera lens, no hot iron in her hair, and no stiff poses or heavy makeup.
She’s a free spirit.
Mari lists the things she wants to do and he listens, he always listens because whatever she hints of wanting, he’ll have it for her. It doesn’t matter if she’s talking about the weather or the latest gossip around the world, his awareness heightens to memorize every word from her lips.
It may take a month to do all the things she’s been listing, James lets her continue to grow her wish list. He’s got enough money to let her live a life of travel and extravagance without another day of modeling, he’s already planning on having her retire and spend the rest of her life with him.
Mari is happy and who is he to stop that radiance?
He wouldn’t be surprised with himself if he ends up buying a home in every place they go.
Anything to keep that sunshine smile.
James drives, Mari talks, and they whizz under the endless blue sky.
“I saw a train that you can sleep and travel overnight!” her gasp is so adorable, James can buy a whole train just for her if she wants to watch the trees warp pass the window.
“Yeah?”
She nods, a childish shine in her eyes when her body writhes in joy at the potential experiences she can have.
“Can we go on a cruise too?” Mari bites her lips, containing her giggling behind her teeth but her hyperactive hands are waving in the air. The places she wants to go can’t be counted on her fingers, but she tried at the beginning and gave up when she got too into her thoughts.
James chuckles, she blushes and bats her lashes at him. Like a butterfly flapping her wings and tapping in his primitive thoughts, fondness thumping loudly in his stom
ach.
“We can only be at one place at a time, sweetheart.”
“But we can do them, right?” she asks, her bottom lip pouts.
Normal people would see this as a deceptively seductive move to get what she wants, but Mari is a girl with innocence as her halo, this is a move of simply getting his confirmation because she knows he’s already agreed.
“Please? I’ll be good, Mr. Novak. I’ll do anything you want.” she begs so prettily.
James parks the car into the driveway after the large parameter gate to his home closes. There’s a row of cars in different varieties; sports car, luxury car, convenience vehicle, and other types of cars to be used on different occasions.
He shuts the car off and turns to her with a teasing smirk, “You’re giving me so much power, little doll.”
She nods firmly, her lips set into a fine line and hardens her gaze.
“It’s okay.” Mari grins, “Auntie Hayden said you only get so much of me because I give it to you, but I can take it away if you hurt me.”
A flare of pride ignites his loving heart and his eyes curve with appreciation.
“That’s right, sweetheart.” James brushes a strand of hair behind her ear.
“I don’t want you to forgive me if I hurt you, I want you to make me work for your forgiveness.”
Chapter Nine
Mari
Being in front of a camera is natural for her, she’s grown so used to it that she’s frozen in the eyes of twenty different camera lenses.
Silence stretches over the large conference room with a long table on the stage; lined with microphones, glasses of waters, and a name tag in front of each person. There are lawyers, security guards, and James sitting beside her. He’s a lot closer than what the chairs were initially set, his hand hasn’t let go when he first guided her into the building where the conference is held at.
After going back to Mr. Novak’s home, he had opened the room she was originally going to sleep in before he changed his mind and gave her his room. The closet was full of all kinds of gorgeous dresses and the entire room was flourished for her through expensive pieces of jewelry, high-quality shoes, and a vanity desk with makeup and skincare products lined up for her to use.
Mari has on a plain burgundy halter dress, void of any jewels as her natural beauty shines through her aura of purity. Her dainty feet are hidden in a pair of nude heels that topple between a good girl and a charming woman with a strap around each tantalizing ankle.
Mr. Novak looks deviously handsome and his stance is strong, just like the strength in his eyes. She loves that puzzling dark color, it steals her breath and consumes her independence, her reliance on him is astonishing but she wouldn’t have it any other way.
It should be a crime for someone to be this attractive.
His jawline can cut a block of butter and it would probably melt under the searing hotness of his appeal. James is so put together, in a classy and poised way that people automatically give him respect. His suit tells a story of a man through intelligence and physical labor; the sleek and crisp outline of the three-piece suit suggests a man of great wisdom and patience, yet his body reveals a man who will use his hands to do most of the work as a savage alpha male.
The width of his shoulders is easily twice her size, the dark suit latches onto his arms like a layer of flimsy fabric, and those big hands has a history of bringing him so much satisfaction.
This strong man had used those hands to save many of his comrades and killed as many of his enemies, held her with the utmost tenderness in his touches, and the punishing spanks on her ass to remind her that even though he loves her to the point of obsession, he’s the dominant in this relationship.
“We’ll keep this short, sweetheart.”
She whispers back, “Okay.”
Mr. Novak doesn’t indulge the bombarding questions from all the reporters and journalists, he’s focused on Mari. She’s stiff as a statue, it’s as if she’s had fell into the curse of Medusa. James kicks that spell away with a whisper on her cheek, his familiar scent sneaks onto her sense and her shoulders drop slightly.
It can’t be helped that her body is conditioned to be still in front of cameras and be a doll during the last gallery opening where she was the center of attention. James had helped her with her posture and how to stay still for hours with as little discomfort as possible. It took time and lots of effort to get to the point of her being Marionette in the open.
“Please, ladies and gentlemen,” one of the lawyers put his hand up to signal the people below them speaking over each other.
“Be civil.” the lawyer clears his throat, “We begin from the right, and one person is only allowed one question.”
Mari puts her sight on the ripples in her cup as someone at the table shifts, curling her fingers around James’ and while he answers all the question for her. As queasy as it makes her, this conference is helping Mr. Novak and his museum so there would be fewer problems in the future.
She hears the questions, thought about them when James gives them vague details and Mari idolizes him for being so composed. All she can do is sit there and be so still that some people in the audience is having trouble distinguishing Mari and Marionette when everything she’s doing represents the doll.
Unmoving and picture-perfect.
After the previous exclusive interview, the reporters are wary of their own questions and tries to gauge James’ reaction as the person before they ask their question.
Some are general questions about how this will affect the branding of Marionette, some are curious as to the idea behind the doll, but most are vultures looking for that one bold reporter to open the gate of a semi-personal question that would or would not be answered.
“How does Marionette feel about being your fiancée, Mr. Novak?” a voice from the mass sea of heads asks.
Mari should answer because this question pertains her but perhaps letting James answer is the better alternative since her tongue is thicker than syrup at the moment. She applauds those people who can give out fifty-minute speeches as a motivational speaker or professors who can teach a class of three hundred students.
Mari has anxiety just thinking about it, and Mr. Novak isn’t breaking a sweat as he tells the reporter what he was asked.
“But what does she think?” daring and somewhat foolish to not take the answer given to the reporter, James narrows his eyes dangerously.
The man she loves turns to her, getting her attention by whispering her name so delicately. Dark eyes glower over with clear intentions, she knows that look and obediently leans to him with her head tilting up for his convenience.
His lips fall softly on hers.
Clicks and flashes of cameras hit their peripheral view as a wave of murmur breaks out around the room with reporters edging towards their seat for a better view of the Marionette in action.
A moving doll is unique, a doll in love with her owner is even a bigger story than Marionette being real.
Scandalous, that’s what everyone’s thinking.
It’s a fairy tale of a beautiful doll waiting for her true love to steal her away from a life of tranquility.
This would make a great title for the massive amount of newspaper, websites, and blogs. This is a scoop of the year, Mari hasn’t seen many incidents so big to cause an international imbalance.
People want to know the truth and people want that now.
Mari hums and chases after his addictive kiss when he draws back, he smiles at her while brushing her hair from her cheek.
“My turn, my turn!” the next reporter jumps up and snatch the microphone from the other journalist.
“Now that fans know Marionette is engaged, there’s going to be lots of hate going in this scandal. What are you doing to stop it? Are you going to do the same thing to Mr. Scott Hunter?”
The man points the microphone to the people on the stage as if he’s at the sidewalk doing an interview on a civilian who just happens by.
Mari blinks in confusion, tilting her head to James who rubs her knuckles to lessen her clammy muscles in her palm. This is the first time she’s heard that name, but she’s been in the dark about lots of things when it comes to the whole business around Marionette. It’s not that big of a problem if she doesn’t know what James does every minute of his day, he meets many people for business partnerships all the time.
“Mr. Hunter left the country before we got to ask him,” the reporter comments, albeit nonchalantly as if he just didn’t say something very serious. Judging by the dark set in his gaze, James believes it’s a serious matter.
She turns back to the reporter, her attention is torn between listening to his answer, watching the smug expression on the reporter, and the distracting caresses on her thigh.
When did he move his hand?
His gentle touches are hot and firm when they tease the edge of her dress, climbing higher and higher until her breath hitches with a whine stuck in her throat. He moves back down to the middle of her thigh and splays his long fingers around her flesh, circling his digits around her thigh in a grasping hold.
“Mr. Hunter and I came to an agreement.” his deep voice raises from the microphone in front of him.
The reporter clears his throat above the speaking device, “After a meeting between you two, he couldn’t get out of the country fast enough. Would you please elaborate on the details of your conversation?”
“It’s a non-disclosure agreement.” James said, “I believe he will say the same thing, if you find him.”
Mari notes the subtle hint of a threat there, but she brushes it off. It’s just James being a very discreet person and he prefers his private matter not aired out to the entire world where someone always has a bad agenda in their monthly calendar.
Mari watches the reporter continue with his useless fishing for juicy details. When James doesn’t want to disclose something, no one can pry it from his lips.
“However,” the man clears his throat with a smirk, “Sources say Mr. Hunter has some photos that would destroy your museum.”
