CHAPTER 4: PICTURE

CHAPTER 4

EMILIA

I stared blankly, wondering if this was some joke or something. “Are you being serious right now?” I asked, but that stern expression remained on his face.

“Do I look like the kind of person with time for jokes? Are you going to read this or not,” she stretched forth his hands.

I was puzzled but accepted it from him regardless. I started flipping through the contract and everything I saw made me pissed to the core.

“I’m not allowed to go out without a bodyguard? What am I? A child?’ I yelled.

But he wasn’t moved by anything I said. 

“You’ve always had a terrible temper. Learn to tame it,” he advised.

“How would you even know that? You’ve only known me for like a week,” I scoffed.

He tucked his hands in his sweatpants, “I don’t have to stress much about it. I ‘m a very observant person, Emilia. It’s easy to know you aren’t the patient type.”

I was trying hard not to flinch but he wasn’t making things easier either. “Why do we need a contract anyway? I didn’t know this was an arranged marriage.”

He replied, “It’s not but these are rules to guide you. You have to sign it for your protection. The mafia clan isn’t something that’s to be joked with mad for someone who practically grew up it, you know how reckless it is doing all these without pre-caution,” he stated.

He was right but at the same time, I was having mixed feelings about everything. “But why would you even add a clause that I’m allowed to date? We’re married, why would I date?” I inquired.

He responded, “We know it’s a loveless marriage and I don’t want you to do anything irrational. I may be part of the mafia but I also have a company and a reputation to keep. The last thing I want is news of my wife with a lover,” he explained.

I understood that part but was still very curious. “Hope the rule adheres to both of us? I can’t be here trying to be faithful and you’d be whoring around. Not that I care but I also don’t want to be caught up in a drama and have people pitying me because my husband can’t keep it in his pants,” I stated.

He stared at me and there was just something about his stares that caused my heart to jolt. “I am a man of principles and morals also I’m too busy to have time for marriage talk less of extramarital affairs.”

It already feels like I was married to myself.

“But don’t you think these are too much? Attending parties at least thrice a month? Not allowed to go out with bodyguards? Not letting outsiders know of our real relationship status?”

He stood there, listening carefully to my rants. “I don’t know how it's bad. It’s not like I’m doing anything horrible to you,” he said.

I knew he was right but at the same time, he was confiscating my freedom which was something I never had for most of my life. 

Why get married only to feel trapped afterward?

“I know we’re not going to stay together for long, so let’s say after two years and our marriage doesn’t move forward then you can file for a divorce and not only that, I’d give you ten million dollars and capital to start up anything you want also your freedom. You’d be free from the mafia world and be responsible for yourself.”

I was left dumbfounded, wondering if he was serious about it. “You’d not only let me go but also give me money?’ I asked and he nodded in response.

I didn’t want to sound like a gold digger but I knew the money would go a long way for me. I would have everything I wanted, move to Greece, start a good business, and settle Mom’s medical bills myself without feeling like a liability to my dad, I would finally be free, 

living a good life with Mom. It sounded like a dream, a dream I couldn’t wait to live.

“Hey,” Martin called, snapping me out of my thoughts.

He ignored my question as usual. “What do you say? It’s a pretty good deal and it’s coming from someone so brutal like me.”

So cocky!

“What’s in it for you?” I asked, wanting to know the schemes.

“Just adhere to my rules, sign this contract, and two years from now, you’d be living the life you want.”

“Do you have a pen?” I inquired.

He smirked and went to a drawer next to the bed. He handed it to me and I wasted no time in signing it, handing the contract back to him.

“So, two years from now you’d have your freedom...or not,” he smirked.

My heart skipped another beat. “Don’t get too full of yourself, I would dump your ass in two years from now.”

“Feisty, I like it,” he chuckled softly. “But we’d see how that goes.”

He made his way to the bathroom after that, leaving me puzzled.

What was that supposed to mean?”

_____________________________

*NEXT DAY*

I felt something warm beside me, the feeling was so thrilling that I couldn’t help but snuggle in deeper. It was like getting cuddled up by a teddy bear.

My hands caressed something hard. That’s not a pillow? 

I jolted out of bed immediately and saw Martin smirking at me. “Good morning, princess. How was your sleep? Did you have a good night's sleep since you wouldn’t stop using my biceps as your pillow,” he mocked.

My cheeks turned red in an instant, ready to die of embarrassment. “Why didn’t push me away?” I asked, rubbing my eyes.

“I tried too,” he got up to put on a shirt.

It was hard not to stare at him. He caught me and I had to look away really quickly.

So embarrassing.

“You kept clinging on to me. If I pushed you, I’m sure you’d land on the ground.”

I kept quiet, not wanting to say anything else that’d get me more embarrassed than I already am.

“I’m heading to the gym, then after I’d take my bath and leave for the base,” he told me.

I nodded in response.

“Go down for breakfast.”

I nodded in response and watched him leave the room. 

          I made my way downstairs and found the dining table filled with a lot of varieties.

“Gosh!” I gasped, making my presence known.

“Good morning, ma’am.” They chorused.

It felt odd to be addressed at that but I tried to act along, responding with a smile.

“Are all these for me?” I asked, taking a seat.

They nodded in response. 

It felt so surreal, never would’ve imagined that I would get to experience this life. I thought getting married to Martin would be hell but it’s far from it.

“What about Martin?” 

“Mr Moretti doesn’t usually take breakfasts. He gyms a bit, washes up, and heads to work,” the headmaster responded.

I frowned. He was missing breakfast because of gym and work? Then what’s the use of being rich if you can’t live a little?

“I’d go call him. I can’t eat breakfast alone on the first day of my marriage.”

I got up and through one of the maids’ directions, I found my way to the gym. But I opened it and found a young guy, sweating from workouts.

He noticed and I smiled awkwardly. “Sorry, I’m here for Martin.”

“You must be Emilia. I’m Alex, his assistant, and my boss is probably in his study. It’s at the centre of this side of the hall.”

“Thanks, and nice to meet you,” I appreciated.

I made me to his study. I knocked on his door but heard no response and decided to let myself in.

“Martin?” I called, but still no response.

I decided to wait since his assistant mentioned that he was there. I was intrigued by the interiors and couldn’t stop touching the artifacts.

I unknowingly opened a drawer through my rackety behaviour, but something caught my attention.

It was a picture. A picture of a girl that looked like me. Or was it me?

But the girl is black-haired and I’m not and I’ve never seen any of this in my gallery or pictures at all and judging by the way the picture was taken, it was not unaware.

Was he stalking me? Or maybe it wasn’t me. Or was that why he married me? Because I was a look-alike of her?

If she’s not me then who is she?

“What are you doing here?”

 I heard a familiar voice behind me and slowly turned around. He caught wind of the frame in my hand and his fist clenched, his face looking stern than usual.

Oh no!