Chapter 3

There it was, the most awaited email. In front of it sat Sheila unsure how to feel about it. She had managed to get an interview after months of hard work but not only did her husband make it clear that she wouldn't work but the interview had been arranged on her wedding day. She scoffed at the irony, at the cruel fate of life that probably laughed viciously at Sheila. I shouldn't have hoped It had been 3 days since she had met this nameless man. Her bags had been packed by her dutiful maids, her father busy with the wedding preparations due in two days. All she was told to do was sit in her room and look pretty as maids took care of her. She was convinced no matter what beauticians tried to do, they'd never even come closer to making her stand-able next to him. He was out of this world. His curly stiff hair, sharp gaze, and chiseled tall physique were made for a woman entirely different than her. Even if she was to convince him to let her work, seduction was out of the question. Not only was she completely devoid of the experience but he must have seen far better than to be falling for her. She closed the laptop with a sigh. There is no way Although both the interview and job were online, she knew the answer would be anything but yes. Is there no way? She took a deep breath and thought it through. To be able to convince him, she had to meet him, they had to talk, how? That... she did not know. Her head throbbed in pain, she refused to accept her fate - the bitter truth that this is what her life was going to be, devoid of joy and goal. She rested her head on the table with a thud, closing her eyes, unable to control the turmoil of her flooding emotions. When the pulse became too much, she clutched her hair in frustration, pulling it to relieve the pain. Her orbs brimmed with tears, worried for her foreseeable future. The more she thought, severely it hurt. Amid her inner battle with grief, hatred, tears, and exasperation, she heard the melodic tune of her favourite composition, it played like a salve on her burning uproar, silencing the clamour within, for a second. It took her seconds to realize that her phone was ringing. It was unusual, no one had her number except for her father and she was sure her father wouldn't ever call at this hour. Who could be callin- It's him It dawned a little too fast, a little more intensely. Her mouth went dry. She knew the caller even before she reached for her cell. Her heartbeat escalated wildly before she picked it up, letting it touch her ear. The hair near her ear stood in anticipation, expecting his voice to echo through her senses any moment now, but all she heard was silence. She strained her ears to pick up any speck of noise and then she heard it...his sharp inhale. He couldn't believe he had made decisions at this rate. Sure he had to nail the deal with Russians at any cost, but never had he thought the old man would ask for a hand in his daughter's marriage for signing the contract. He had agreed in less than a minute, knowing how with Russian or not, his marriage was anyways going to be part of the deal. He was too presumptuous to waste the privilege of marriage for love, especially if he could use it for gains in important matters. The meeting was only supposed to be a trivial formality, unimportant and useless. He had already formed assumptions. Born rich, with no mother, single daughter, and zero friends, of course, she had to be a cherished spoilt princess in the typically loaded palace. Much to his surprise, she had come out as anything but that. The sight of her cherubic features and shy demeanor had caught him off guard as much as it had intrigued his insides. She seemed to be an odd fit to be anywhere in his life and yet she had captured his eye. After not being able to process what witchcraft she had been performing on him, he had called, unaware of his intentions. She didn't say anything, growing skeptical of the strange phone call, waiting patiently. As time passed she found herself lying down on the bed on her stomach. Her phone still clutched to her ear while he all but breathed. What is the meaning of this? Before she could assume the call was a mistake and cut it off, she heard the two unmistakable words, hitching her breathe, "I'm coming" Her will to inquire frantically was met with a frightening beep, he had hung up. She was flabbergasted, baffled, everything and anything that meant she was panicking. First, he breathed through the phone now, out of nowhere he was coming. Just when she started to get worried it struck her... He's meeting me, I can talk to him now This was probably the last opportunity to confront him again, to give it a shot. For whatever reason he was paying a visit, and she decided to turn it in her favor. Her panic settled slowly, calming down to let her see the positive side of dreadful forthcomings. She strolled back and forth in her room, going over the scenarios, practicing how she'd talk, what she'd say. Her ragged breath morphed into a strange excitement of hope. Little did she know the cost of her wishes would be too much, that at stakes was a price she could never fully pay, that her little moment of joy was all but little. Heroically oblivious to her destiny, she did what the lamb never did for the lion, She waited. After 15 minutes of going through the email again, she smiled with a newly found hope to linger on. If he gets convinced, this could work She stood up from her table and walked to the window to gaze through the moonlight, sighing at the sight of the gibbous, bright moon. As she rested her head on the frame of the window, her thoughts traveled to imagining her life in Italy. Would it make any difference? The question never had any positive answer. After seeing the man, she knew it would be worse. The only mystery was how worse, how much worse. A screeching of wheels caught her attention when a shining sports car entered their premise. She didn't have to guess who it was. He got out of the car and entered the mansion like a man on a mission. And just like that she lost her breath again. Why did he have this effect on her? Should I lock the door? I don't want to see him Why was he coming anyway? The destructive thoughts crowded her mind, forcing adrenalin into her veins, telling her to either run out the door or jump out the window. When her thoughts began to roll downhill she forced herself to calm down, focusing on how she would convince him. If you want a career, you have to do this. She repeated the mantra, taking deep breaths, pulling herself together. She noticed that there wasn't a knock before he pushed the door open, letting it close behind him, entering as if he owned the damn place. She stood by her window staring at him wide-eyed as he blessed the air with his distinct cologne, letting the sip of masculinity dip into her feminine room, his white shirt sharply contrasting his dark suit. The air thickened as he inhaled his share of oxygen. Ever so slowly as he watched her, with a soft click he locked the door, laying his intentions down once and for all. She realized the trap when she was already caught, in her own house, in her room. How could I be so stupid? She had kept her room's lights off, knowing the moonlight was enough to light every part of her room. He admired the darkness, moreover he was about to exploit it. Shadows engulfed him in a devilish embrace, his face nothing less than a mesmerizing angel reeking deleterious danger. It wasn't until he took a step towards her did the gravity of the situation descended like a bolting thunder on a sunny day. Even then she couldn't but shake in fear. He had skillfully blocked the door, calling was not an option and if she screamed...she opened her mouth but a meek plea came out. Her body's lack of response terrified her even more, tears gathered in her orbs with horrific anticipation. With each deliberate step nearer, she gripped the frame of her window tighter, afraid of losing her balance. It took him three steps to be inches apart from her. He watched her shaken face with incomprehensible expression, taking his suit jacket off, slowly to extend the joy of seeing her rabbit eyes full of regret and fear. She felt foolish to think that he came to talk when all he wished was different and vile. She moved her eyes away, unable to meet his diabolical green gaze. She gulped as his hand cupped her neck in a gentle grip, guiding her teary glance to his. His eyes slipped from the grip of her eyes to her lips in a second. She grew self-conscious all over again. He watched his possession with subtle interest, taking his time in enjoying the quiver of her full lips. In the moment of bewilderment and growing self-awareness, her tongue unconsciously wiped her lips wet, the simple act bursting his thinning control as his mouth descended on her lips with hunger. He took her gently, stroking her lips tenderly, trying different angles, faltering any attempt to get away by tightening his hold on her neck. Giving her a moment in between to breathe, enjoying her feeble struggles bit by bit. And just when he thought it wasn't enough, he picked her up effortlessly, ignoring her shocked gasp before throwing her onto the bed.