by Pamela Ann
“I’ve missed you,” she murmured before wrapping her arms around me and kissing the side of my neck.
“Good…because you have five days’ worth of frustration heading your way.” My hands cupped her bottom as I breathed her in.
For a second, Gisele’s face flashed before me. Her image didn’t disappear until I was balls deep into Rose’s body.
I didn’t leave until thirty past ten, and my body had furiously drained every last drop of semen into her depths. I fucked her straight for almost two hours. By the time we were done, she was out cold, passed out from all the orgasms I gave her. I left a soft kiss on her head before leaving to head back to Peter’s home. Before walking out, though, I stared down at Rose’s naked state, knowing she had to move closer to where I’d be. That entailed I purchase her a home somewhere in Palo Alto and provide her with whatever else she needed along with a generous monthly allowance. On the occasion when Gisele decided to provoke me with her body, I’d only have to drive fifteen minutes instead of an hour for sex. Yes, the more I thought about it, the more logical it became. The benefits outweighed the bad. I’d propose the idea once I found a house for her to move into.
It was the massive flower truck that I noticed first upon entering the long, gated driveway. I knew preparations were underway, and Thomas had all the help he needed to ensure he did it discreetly, with little noise as much as possible so not to aggravate Peter.
My mother would arrive soon, so I had best jump in the shower again to rinse Rose’s scent off my body before I dressed for the wedding ceremony. Although it’d only be Peter and my mother present—well, along with the household staff—I thought it’d benefit everyone if decorations and whatever else spared no expense to achieve the make-believe wedding with what little time we had to work with.
As expected, Thomas greeted me upon entering the house foyer before excusing himself to reprimand some unsuspecting employee for not paying heed to his instructions. I headed straight into the elevator, and upon stepping out of it, I wondered if I should check on Gisele. Did her doctor’s appointment go well? But then I realized after our odd exchange earlier, she might not be as welcoming. Sleeping in her bed tonight would be awkward. As a result, I convinced myself to shower and change and ignored the inkling to see her.
It was eleven twenty when I began to change into my custom-made black designer suit. My hair was still so wet I could feel a rogue droplet course down the side of my neck. But instead of wiping it off, I took a few steps to locate something. My loyal housekeeper, who assisted moving my things here, knew where I’d like it kept. Close to my watch case and cufflinks. It took a few tries opening several drawers until I found it.
My wedding picture of Paige and me. A remnant of happier times. Our youth and unguarded smiles made me yearn for the past once more. We had been so hopeful. Planning a future of our family that never came to fruition. Her long dark hair loose, adorned with a pink, peach, and white flower crown on top her head. The headpiece she weaved a day prior. She was all smiles and sunshine. Paige had had a beautiful soul—an old soul—and she had captured my heart at first glance in our first year of high school. We had never parted until the day she had been taken from me.
The picture frame’s glass felt smooth under my fingertips as I lovingly caressed Paige’s face. I missed her. She had left a deep, dark void inside me; I’d been living as half a man, never complete. She had taken a part of me with her, never to be the same again.
Forgive me, my love. I know I vowed before I buried you that I’d never marry again…but I’m granting a dying man’s last wish. I’m left with no choice. Peter means a lot to me. I hope you understand my situation. Nothing’s changed. You’ll always be the only one.
My chest ached before I placed our wedding picture back in the drawer, sliding it shut. I was immobile for some time before something drove me to finish getting ready. Right after stepping out of the closet, a loud knock came at the door.
“Yeah?” I called out before glancing at my wrist to check the time. It was five to noon.
“Are you ready, son?” Peter, who was being pushed in a wheelchair by nurse Anita, made a smile that probably took a lot of effort for him. He had a motorized wheelchair, and him not using it validated how ill he was feeling.
Dr. Kim had advised me earlier that last night’s dinner took a toll on him. Peter’s ashen pallor had worsened. Two months—the poor guy had two months until his life ended on this earth. As saddened as we all were, I knew deep down Peter was relieved and quite ecstatic to join Edna in the afterlife. I understood too well because if this happened to me, I’d willingly accept my fate with arms wide open and with a grateful smile on my face.
But until then, I was prepared to sacrifice whatever was required, warranting Peter’s legacy remained intact and securing his happiness by seeing his only daughter married today.
“I’m ready.”
10
Gisele
“Miss Gisele?” Reina, our housekeeper, gently tapped on the door before letting herself into my room. “Your father asked me to inform you that they’re all downstairs. You can come down when you’re ready.”
I blinked a few times before looking away from my reflection in the mirror. “I’ll be right down. Thank you, Reina.”
She was about to turn to leave, but she paused before shyly glancing at me. “I wish you a great marriage, Miss Gisele. You deserve joy after all that’s happened. We’re all rooting for you.” Reina made an encouraging nod before walking out of my room.
They’re all rooting for me…This was all a farce, and for a weak moment, I wished I truly were marrying for love. It didn’t have to be Jared. Anyone would do as long as they loved me like crazy. Wasn’t that what everyone longed for? To love and to be loved in return? But alas, my fate hadn’t introduced me to that person yet. After this morning’s humiliating exchange, I knew Jared would never see me that way. The small shoves he did…did aggravate the situation, but I was so turned on from waking up to him in such a way that my brain took a momentary leave of absence.
Jared came back as promised…after spending all his hardness into Rose’s body. I’m not going to lie; I’m beyond jealous that she gets to have everything I longed for. But Rose wasn’t at fault here. This was all me and what little hopes I had of securing the man I craved for almost a decade now. And I was about to marry him, vow that I’d love and cherish him after barely sliding off a woman’s vagina. It was rather cruel, but Jared had been upfront from the very beginning, and I doubted that would change anytime soon.
The only problem in this equation was me. Not Jared. Not Rose. Therefore, the sooner I resumed my life, the better it’d be for everyone’s sake.
The doctor’s visit proved to be a heaven sent. At least, I could be grateful for that. Apparently, I wasn’t even pregnant. The tests I took most likely were expired—that was the only explanation she could provide me with. If this wasn’t a huge sign to move on, pushing me to experience life the way it was meant for me to experience, then I didn’t know what was.
At least, with the definitive knowledge that I wasn’t actually pregnant, there was something to be celebrated. Instead of nitpicking the bad, I’d rather focus on the good. I had so much to be grateful for. Investing my energy in the negative would only bring me further down in the dumps, and I simply couldn’t have that. I had so much to live for. Besides, my friends would be arriving in a week and a half’s time. We were ready to take the step to the next chapter of our lives. I was actually ecstatic about it.
With that in mind, my mood actually lifted. Giving myself a once-over, I notoriously roved my eyes to check if everything was in place. It was a dress I intended to wear at a Grecian party that I hadn’t ended up attending last year. It was an Oscar de la Renta with crushed furtony pleated silk embellished with a crisscross golden braided knot around the stomach, and the low cleavage seemed demure enough to make it as a wedding dress. I matched it with gold stilettos. My hair styled in a loos
e chignon with a few strands escaping to give that lax, subtle look. And lastly, I had my mother’s pearl and diamond hair vine wrapped around my hair strands on the side of my head. It was as beautiful as it was delicate. This was her favored spring/summer accessory, and I thought it would be fitting to wear it. In a degree, my mom would be with me every step of the way.
I took a deep, steady breath. In. Out. “All right, here goes not a damn thing,” I muttered under my breath before sauntering out of my room.
The first thing I saw upon exiting the elevator was Papa in a wheelchair. He didn’t look too well. His cheeks had sunken, more profoundly hollowed than yesterday. Could cancer quickly, rapidly devitalize one’s system in less than twenty-four hours’ time?
“You look like your mother, my darling.” My father seemed so overwhelmed he had tears in his eyes. “I wish she was here to see you.”
Everyone knew he wasn’t one for showing emotions, but seeing him with tears brought some of my own. “Don’t be sad...She’s with us, Papa. You know she is.”
“I know she is…” He wiped a tear, frailly smiling at me. “Do you mind if nurse Anita wheels me to walk you down the aisle, my darling?”
My gaze shifted to the Asian nurse behind him, seeming as affected by our display of affection. “I don’t mind at all.” I beamed at her, a warm gesture she immediately reciprocated.
“I’d be honored to help marry off your beautiful daughter, Sir Peter.”
My father laughed aloud before he directed us towards the garden where the rest of the staff, Jared’s mother Abigail, and of course, the man of the hour himself were waiting.
Thomas popped out of nowhere to hand me a simple bouquet consisting of white peonies and a few baby’s breath.
“You look lovely, my dear.” Thomas proudly gazed over me like a proud father would before planting a delicate kiss on my forehead.
After the almost teary display I had with my father, I couldn’t very well carry on threatening to ruin my makeup when I was minutes away from walking down the garden.
Then my father declared it was time.
With my hand grasping his frail one, we silently began to walk towards the garden with Nurse Anita quietly pushing the wheelchair behind us.
I had never much pondered what the effect of the situation could entail until Jared’s face came to view. He stood close to the minister, his severe stare fixed on me. There was no smile. No hint of joy. He was like a carved stone, and the only sign of life was his eyes. They were very much alive. I felt their power consuming me. Before I began to walk down the white-carpeted aisle, I saw a flicker of sadness in them.
His sadness swiftly embedded itself into my heart. I would never forget the feeling of it. It broke my heart. I promised then that when the time came, I’d let him go, set him free so he could find real happiness. One that brought a smile to his face. After all, I knew I couldn’t be the one to bring light into his life. He only saw me as a means to an end. Nothing more. Nothing less.
“Ready, my darling?” My father came up beside me before I took hold of his hand and brought it to my lips, giving it a gentle kiss. His skin had a crepe, wafer-y feel to it, a significant sign he was truly deteriorating before my very eyes.
Bravely meeting his eyes, I whispered, “I’m ready, Papa.”
11
Gisele
“You look marvelous, dear.” Abigail St. James kissed both of my cheeks, vibrantly beaming at me. “My son’s quite lucky to have you as his wife.” Even after almost a decade in America, her Aussie accent stayed the same as when I’d first met her years ago. Jared’s was not as distinct as before. It was a bit mixed between American and Aussie these days.
“That’s sweet of you,” I said as I held her hand. Abigail’s warmth and welcoming nature made me feel all sorts of a fraud. Here she was, brought into thinking that we were secretly married but believing that it was the real deal—that we were in this until the very end—but I knew better. This arrangement would last until I found someone else, and we’d discreetly divorce as planned.
The ceremony had barely ended ten minutes ago. We were all in the garden where the reception was also situated. While I joined Papa, Abigail, and Jared at the table while we waited for our first course to be served, my mind wandered off to the wedding itself. Jared’s resigned manner when he kissed my cheek after the minister announced that we were married had reminded me how much he and I were sacrificing for the sake of father’s company. Our marriage would secure Jared’s future as well as my own and generation upon generation of Webers. My children and their children’s children would reap the rewards my father had worked so hard his entire life for. This marriage of convenience was a necessity, nothing more.
“Gisele?” Jared murmured close to me.
“Hm?” I barely threw him a look as I sipped on my wine. The coolness of the liquid quenched my thirst. The delicious taste on my tongue made me let out a wistful sigh while I took in my father and Abigail deeply engaging about politics. My father looked relieved he could converse with another person who didn’t solely focus on work or his approaching fate looming in the background. Having Abigail around seemed to bring a little life to my father. And for that, I would forever be in her debt.
Jared’s head inched closer to me. His hot breath teased my skin. It was as if he was smelling me and he couldn’t help himself. I was hyperaware of him, and my body’s helpless reaction to his closeness left me a tad breathless.
“The lawyers are here. We need to sign some documents. Do you mind if we take care of it now?” he whispered in a ragged tone.
He meant the prenuptial agreement and whatever else he and my father had agreed on the moment we stated our vows. “Yeah, I’m not all that hungry, anyway.” After finishing the rest of my glass, I gently placed it back on the table.
“They’re in the library. I had it temporarily converted as my home office for now.”
My father was most likely pleased that Jared was making himself right at home. For a huge house, it was nice that most of the rooms were being used instead of having them merely for display. After mom’s passing, my father never entertained anymore, and when he was home, he would hole himself in the basement where his workroom was located. The floorplan was about half the size of the house. No one was allowed in there. One had to go through a biometric hand scan to access it. Only Jared and I had clearance. I never once wondered what was down there, but I supposed that would be Jared’s job to ensure whatever projects my father worked on were made a priority for completion.
We excused ourselves as we strode back into the house. The library was situated in the opposite wing where it overlooked a swan pond. It was built for my mother. She loved reading books and would spend most of her time in the library or outdoors, basking in the sun while devouring her latest romance novel.
It pleases me that Jared will make this room feel alive again, I thought as I stepped into the room. It was airy in here. The bright tall windows made it easier for the sunshine to stream through the glass. Like the rest of the house, it was all white, from the furniture to the walls. The gargantuan almost floor to ceiling hand paintings of Praslin, an island in the Seychelles, in different angles of the land and the stunning seascape of the Indian Ocean hung on each wall. It gave the room warmth. A sense of being. It evoked serenity, quietude, and peace of mind.
I sat next to Jared, taking one of the three Italian white sofas. His team took the one on the left while mine took the right. They then immediately got down to business after a mild greeting and introduction. One of my lawyers carefully placed a pair of Montblanc pens on the table. We were then presented with a stack of contracts. They felt daunting as my fingers slowly sifted through the smooth, heavy sheets of paper.
Jared’s legal team consisted of three people, while my father brought in five to represent me. I had no idea who they were, but I supposed this was a good opportunity to get to know them since they’d be directly dealing with me in the near future. Apparen
tly, I had my own prenup, as did Jared. My own was straightforward, stating that if we part ways, we leave the marriage with our own money. Jared wouldn’t be entitled to a cent. And in the case of death, unless there were children involved, my shares would go directly to my father’s foundation. Jared’s contract, on the other hand, was something different entirely. Upon divorce, I was entitled to support—a payout of five million for each year of being married to him. Thirty percent of that amount would be for spousal support and would be paid monthly post-marriage. There was also a clause if I (miraculously) bore him children. It was right under the yearly sum I’d receive for each year of being married to Jared. The sum was five times that per child.
Why include something so asinine? We both knew that was a whole lie, so why even bother? I supposed his lawyers were there for a reason, covering everything, leaving no matter unaddressed.
Deeply frowning as I placed the heavy-laden contract down on the table, I observed Jared and his three austere lawyers with incredulity. “I don’t see why I need the money.” I was affronted. “I don’t mean to be brash, but I’m going to be worth more than him, so there’s no need for any of this.”
The end of Jared’s lip lifted a tad, amused at my haughty, audacious statement. Before he could manage to respond, one of his solicitors took the liberty of addressing me.
“That is true, Mrs. St. James, but you also have to take into account that your assets are tied to a company. Withdrawing shares isn’t an option. The other vast investments your father has—well, they’re mostly, if not all, liquid. You’ll be getting yearly dividends, and if a circumstance does arise where you need immediate cash, as appointed by your father that your husband will be your sole guardian and would be taking over managing your father’s estate until you’re thirty, you won’t be able to do anything without his approval. So, this clause would benefit you in case there’s a divorce before you turn thirty.”
