"Sleep with me, Mia," he said savagely, and my brain nearly exploded as different meanings of that sentence played in my mind.
Was he asking me to share the same bed with him simply?
Did he mean that—the kind of sleeping that involved me taking off my clothes and lying on the bed while he did things to my body?
It could have been the first option, but the way his lethal gaze lingered on my chest, how he greedily grabbed my waist, and the way his lips hovered near mine told me otherwise.
The closeness of our bodies, the raw heat of my skin against his, ignited something unplanned within me. His words sent a feral need coursing through me, and my breathing turned uneven. My heart raced uncontrollably.
"Arrow..." I called softly, but the look in his eyes suddenly shifted. Gone was the raw intensity, replaced by his usual cold, detached expression. No, it was colder—so cold that his mere gaze frosted my skin. I couldn’t understand what had changed so abruptly.
He removed his hands from my waist, and I gulped as I climbed off him.
I stood up, pushing my hair back as I turned to look at him. His stare remained fixed on me, unreadable and unnerving.
"What?" I frowned, and he gestured to the bed, tapping on it.
I blinked in confusion. "No need. I'll just sleep with Dawn," I said quickly, trying to reject his proposal.
"I'm not giving you a choice," he replied flatly, his tone leaving no room for argument.
I sighed and lay down on the bed, deliberately keeping a safe distance between us.
But then I felt the bed shift and the space behind me became empty.
I sat up, frowning. "Didn't you ask me to sleep with you?" I questioned, wondering why I even cared that he was leaving.
"I'm committed," he said curtly, walking out the door without another glance.
This man was anything but normal, so I shouldn’t have been surprised. But why did I even want him to sleep beside me? He didn’t sleep beside me on our wedding night, so why would tonight be any different?
Then why did he tease me earlier? What was that for?
Anger bubbled up inside me. Who did he think he was, to play with me like that, to make me follow his wishes like a puppet?
I remembered him saying I was his and scoffed.
He didn’t own me. He never would. And now that I was piecing together his actions and words, I realized I might have just been a tease to him.
He said he was committed.
Committed to what? Marriage? But there hadn’t been any news about him getting married before me.
Or was he committed to his work, which meant he had to leave me to focus on it?
I sighed and lay back on the bed. I couldn’t let this unpredictable man get under my skin.
What I needed right now was sleep.
I exited the suffocating comfort of my car with precision, adjusting the cuffs of my tuxedo. The restrictive fabric annoyed me, but I wore it regardless.
I raised my gaze to the towering building in front of me—a building that would soon be mine.
I had fulfilled the terms my grandfather had set for me to inherit it.
Marrying Kalmia had never been my choice. It was an obligation, a task I had to complete to secure the company.
You may wonder why my grandfather dictated my life. Well, in simple terms, I have no parents. End of story.
I strode past the usual ogling workers, their eyes following me as they always did.
This was my routine, a daily occurrence that barely registered anymore.
Walking into my spacious office, I glanced around the sleek interior designed to my taste, the white tiles gleaming under the natural light.
I took my seat, only for a knock to echo at the door moments later.
Frowning, I grabbed the remote on my desk, checking the camera feed to see who it was.
I didn’t bother responding. The door to my office was automated—it only opened at my command, and right now, I wasn’t in the mood to entertain anyone.
After a pause, the door slid open, and he stepped inside, looking visibly nervous as he stood before me.
I was used to it. It was an aura I had exuded since my childhood.
“S-sir, w-we have n-new intakes for the architectural position,” he stammered, his trembling voice matching the sweat pooling on his forehead.
I leaned back in my chair, brushing aside a stray strand of black hair that fell over my eyes.
“Have them interviewed by Oscar,” I said plainly.
He nodded quickly, fumbling with his notebook.
“Sir, your schedule for today:
A meeting with your grandfather.”
I sighed deeply, and he froze mid-sentence.
“I didn’t ask you to stop,” I said coolly.
A 30-minute meeting with the client from BW Entertainment.
A 2-hour meeting with the board members.”
“Cancel that and reschedule it for tomorrow,” I instructed.
The two-hour meeting was supposed to be my official coronation as CEO, but I wasn’t in the mood to sit through endless discussions about my behavior, responsibilities, and expectations.
Earlier, I had dropped Dawn at school as promised. The way her face lit up with pride as she showed me off to her classmates brought a rare smile to my lips.
She had a knack for brightening my day.
A sudden gasp pulled me out of my thoughts, and I looked up to find my PA staring at me in shock.
Damn. I smiled in front of him.
“Get out,” I said evenly, and he bolted for the door without hesitation.
As soon as the door creaked open, I didn’t need to guess who had entered.
Only one person walked in uninvited like that.
“You have no respect, young brat. Stand and greet me properly,” my grandfather bellowed.
Sighing, I stood reluctantly. “Welcome. Satisfied?” I muttered, rolling my eyes as I sat back down.
The next thing I felt was a sharp kick to my side.
“Grandpa, seriously?” I frowned, and he scoffed, perching on the edge of my desk.
“Get angry all you want. I couldn’t care less. I came here for something important,” he said.
“What?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.
“When am I meeting my daughter-in-law?” he asked bluntly.
I scoffed. “That’s why you came here?”
“Yes. My birthday is coming up, and I expect you to bring her to me. Your grandmother would love to meet her too,” he said before getting up and walking out.
I watched his retreating figure, his last words lingering in my mind.
The mention of my grandmother reminded me of my mission, and I exhaled deeply.
“I’ll find the bastard,” I muttered under my breath.
I stared at my reflection in the mirror, smiling at the youthful face staring back at me.
It seemed time hadn’t aged me much.
Today, I had planned to attend another job interview, but Clyde had called, claiming he had something important to discuss.
How did he even get my number?
I stepped out of—well, not my house—Arrow’s house.
I was just a temporary guest for the next year.
As I exited, I noticed Jemima waiting outside, her arms crossed and a frown plastered on her face.
“Where are you going?” she asked, eyeing me suspiciously.
I blinked, realizing my outfit had probably given me away.
I was in a black flared gown that barely reached my mid-thighs. My Louboutin heels covered the transparent black socks that climbed up to my thighs beneath the dress.
The outfit was eye-catching.
"You dressed like you’re going to meet your husband," Jemima teased, her brow arching as she looked me over.
I blinked and laughed nervously. "No, no. Actually, I’m going to meet Clyde," I replied, and her eyes widened in shock.
"What? Wait, you still have feelings for him?" she asked, her tone laced with disbelief.
I scoffed, unlocking my car. "No, of course not. He called and said he had something important to tell me," I said, settling into the driver’s seat.
"What’s so important?" she pressed, frowning.
"I don’t know," I replied simply.
"Wait! I’m supposed to drive you," she said with concern, but I smiled, starting the engine.
"Not this time. Take care of the house, Mima!" I yelled, driving off.
Despite my casual response, I couldn’t help but wonder why Clyde had reached out after all these years.
When I arrived at the location, I parked my car and took a moment to gather myself. It was a modest roadside restaurant.
Through the transparent window, I spotted him, smiling as though nothing had ever gone wrong between us. I rolled my eyes and stepped out, walking toward him with confident strides.
The moment I entered, all eyes turned to me. I quickly pulled out my black sunglasses and slipped them on.
I could hear whispers around me:
“Isn’t that Kalmia? The model from six years ago?”
“Yeah, it looks like her.”
“Didn’t she choose a trophy over her sister?”
“I heard that too. She’s a heartless monster for that.”
“I was her fan once, but I can’t support someone like her now.”
Their words stung, but I refused to let them show it. I walked toward Clyde and took a seat across from him.
"I’ve got limited time. Start talking," I said, trying to keep my voice calm, though his annoying smile made my blood boil.
"Aren’t you still so beautiful," he said with a grin.
I raised a brow, standing up immediately. It was clear he had nothing important to say.
"Hey, wait! I was going to talk about your interview. Since you’ve already applied, I’ve decided to accept you. Work with me," he said, grabbing my wrist.
I yanked my hand away, glaring at him. "I’m not interested," I snapped, turning to leave.
"Kalmia, wait!" he called, but I ignored him and stepped outside.
I was almost at the road when I felt his hand grab my wrist again, this time with a rough pull that caused my sunglasses to fall.
"Clyde!" I yelled, noticing the crazed look in his eyes.
People began pointing and murmuring around us.
“Already flirting with a married man? Shameless.”
I glared at Clyde. "Let me go. People are getting the wrong idea," I hissed, but he smiled maniacally.
"I missed you," he said, and before I could react, he leaned in and kissed me.
My body froze, memories of our past rushing back—the happy moments, the love we once shared. But then I remembered his betrayal, and anger surged through me.
I pushed him away forcefully, gasping when I caught sight of a pair of familiar, piercing eyes glaring daggers at us.
Arrow. My contract husband.
The realization hit me like a freight train. I scoffed inwardly. It’s just a contract, anyway.
But somehow, I couldn’t shake the guilt gnawing at me.
Turning back to Clyde, I heard the screeching sound of a car speeding off.
Ignoring it, I raised my hand and slapped him hard across the face.
"You bastard! You’re a married man," I shouted, my voice trembling with rage.
"Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy it," he sneered, but I didn’t let him finish. My knee connected with his groin, and he collapsed, cursing.
"F*** you," I spat, storming back to my car and driving home.
When I arrived, I marched up the stairs to our room, my heels echoing against the floor.
The moment I opened the door, I felt the icy tension in the air
Arrow sat on the couch, his posture relaxed but his eyes burning with fury. He was shirtless, the buttons of his white shirt torn off, exposing his toned chest.
I ignored him, heading straight for the bathroom.
The tub was already filled with warm water, steam clouding the room. I stripped off my clothes and stepped under the shower, letting the cold water wash over me, calming my raging thoughts.
I had just begun to relax when I felt a hand spin me around and slam my back against the wall.
Arrow’s face was inches from mine, his hands trapping me on either side.
"Why the f*** did you do that?!" he roared, his voice dripping with contempt.
His eyes were bloodshot, his breaths coming out in hard bursts of anger.
I stared back at him, my brows furrowing.
"F***ing answer me, woman! How dare you kiss that fool? You’re married to me—me! You’re my wife, Little Dove!" he yelled his tone enough to send shivers down anyone’s spine.
"Really, Arrow? So what if I kissed him?" I fired back. "You don’t own me. This marriage is nothing but a f***ing contract—one you forced me to sign. So don’t act like you have any control over me!"
I shoved him away and began to walk out, but his next words stopped me cold.
"Let’s break it," he said flatly, not even turning to face me.
The water continued pouring down, soaking his clothes and outlining his muscular frame.
I froze, my heart pounding as his words sank in.
Arrow finally turned, his eyes devoid of emotion as he took a step closer to me.
"Do it, and I’ll never bother you again. That’s a promise," he said, his voice icy.
He leaned in, his tone dark. "Just make sure you have nothing of mine with you."
With that, he walked out, leaving me alone in the suffocating silence of the bathroom.
I gulped, my thoughts spinning.
Nothing of his substance?
