Las Vegas Bride Meets Her Brothers

Emily

“Come on guys. Live a little!” Jesse shouts excitedly as we make our way to the casino.

“So, this is the famous Las Vegas?” I ask, somehow not as excited as I thought I would be. Maybe spending all my savings for this trip was part of it.

“Are you kidding me?” Stela questions in disbelief. “This is life, Babe. Look at that, its Mark from the Beast!”

I let out a sigh and try to loosen up. I might as well enjoy this adventure, I paid for it after all.

“Great! You can ask him for an autograph.”

They both look at me like I have grown horns.

“We are big shots here, Am. Glamour, style and wealthy. That and autographs don’t go together,” Jesse tells me and Stela agrees. I sometimes wonder how I ended with them as friends. They are carefree and go with the flow, while I worry about everything. Right now, I am worried about pretending to be rich in Las Vegas where there are actually real filthy rich people.

Stela puts on her glamourous shades she bought from a charity shop last week. “Remember. Rich, Darling. No one knows us here. We could be wealthy ladies from Cookon.”

“There is no such a place.”

Jesse rolls her eyes at me. “They don’t know that. These are the people who think Africa is a country, Darling.”

“Fine. We are wealth ladies from, can we say Cape town? That is a real place. I have seen it on a map.”

‘Whatever suits you. Don’t blow our cover.”

I nod and follow my crazy friends to the bar.

We have not taken our seats when two guys in stylish hip hop wear approach us.

“Drinks, Ladies?”

“Oh, thank you, Gentlemen.”

Jesse’s honeyed voice is unmistakable. I knock on her side, hoping she would apologise and send them off, but she drags me to the corner where they are seated.

We find a uninterested handsome man probably in his late twenties on the table.

“Great. You returned with company.”

It is clear from his remarks that we are not welcomed here.

“Thank you, guys. We will leave,” I say and get on my feet, only to be pulled back by Stela.

“Don’t mind Erick, his girl is driving him coocoos. It is an honour to drink with you, Ladies,” one of the hip hop guys, Max, I think, says and my gullible friend are happy to stay.

“So, where are the gorgeous ladies from?” Abel, I think, asks and Stela shouts the Cookon crap again.

The Erick guy looks at us and laughs. He obviously knows that place does not exist. I don’t know where Stela even came up with that name. It does not even sound like a place.

“Cape town,” I correct her and this guy laughs again.

“More like backstreets where all escorts emerge,” he smirks, raising my anger.

“You would know. A pimp maybe?” I hiss, ready to slap his stupid face.

“Calm down, Em. This lovely gentlemen is just joking,” Jesse says and the Max guy agrees with her.

I let out a sigh and ignore the bastard. I don’t want to be a party pooper. I also can’t leave my friends here with these guys. I don’t drink, but they do. I will watch over them.

Two hours later, I am left on the table with the grumpy Erick guy while my tipsy friends dance with Max and Abel.

“Are you not going to drink like your woozy friends?”

“Just don’t talk to me,” I grit my teeth and take a sip of the pink virgin cocktail in front of me.

He chuckles and gulps his red wine.

“So uptight. You must be a virgin. Came to LA to lose the seal?”

The menacing tone is raising my anger. I have never met such a judgement ass.

“You are disgusting with a filthy mind!” I hiss and he smirks, clearly enjoying getting on my nerves.

“Not as disgusting as some gold-digger whores pretending to be rich to pick up unsuspecting rich guys.”

I have had enough. I grab my purse and stand up to leave. I will be charged with assault at this rate. I have emptied my savings, I won’t even afford a lawyer or bail. Walking away is the best option for me.

I am walking away when I feel the room spinning and my step unsteady.

He holds me and smirks. “You just want to be in my arms. So shameless.”

I try to push him off but lose my step and fall right on his lap.

“You want me. I will give it to you,” he says, sending chills down my spine. My head is spinning and I have a headache. Someone put something on my drink.

I see my friends a distance away before they become shades and everything becomes blank.

I am woken up by someone next to me. I force my painful eyes open and my jaw drops before panic washes over me.

“What? Are you going to pretend that you did not plan this?” the bastard from yesterday smirks before getting out of bed and heading to the bathroom.

I watch his naked figure disappear before jumping off the bed and quickly getting dressed. How the hell did I end up in bed with this jerk?

Where are Jesse and Stela? Oh, Lord, were they also drugged?

I grab my heels and run towards the door.

I am sent back by flashing camera lights.

“How long have you and Mr Spencer been together, Ma’am?”

I lift my hand to cover my face but they keep coming and shoving mics at me.

“Was this a flash marriage or planned?”

“Were you always dating? What about his fiancée?”

I have no idea what they are talking about and my head hurts like hell. I am roughly pulled back before the jerk pushes everyone out and roaring, “No comment. Get the fuck off!”

I am pacing in the room when he comes and stands before me and declaring, “Well fucken played, Whore.”

“What?”

“Spiking my drink, the marriage and these reporters. You think you have everything figured out, don’t you?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You think you can just hijack being Mrs Spencer? In your dreams,” he smirks.

“Stop with your egocentric attitude. It is nauseating. I am assuming that you are Mr Spencer. Why the fuck would anyone want to marry you?” I yell angrily, right when multiple bodyguards and a woman in a skirt suit walk in.

“Pearl?” he asks the woman wearing a no-nonsense attitude.

“Your flash marriage is all over the news. Reporters are camping outside. Spencer senior is waiting for you at the mansion.”

He curses out and kicks the nearest chair.

“Has she seen it?”

The woman nods. “She is devastated. Had a mental breakdown and being attended to by the physician.”

He curses out again before grabbing my neck and glaring at me. “You will pay for this, Bitch.”

I raise my knee and kick his balls hard. He falls down and curses while holding his balls. That’s when I turn to the woman. Maybe she will give me the answers I need.

“What is going on here?”

She frowns and asks, “What do you remember?”

I tell her everything, but her expression tells me that she does not believe me.

“Well, you married Erick Spencer last night. It was live on social media.”

“I did not!”

Just the thought of being married makes me cringe, let alone to this man.

“Quit pretending, Bitch. You planned this,” the bastard accuses.”

“Why on earth would I want to be married to an asshole like you!” I yell, unable to help it. Where the hell are my friends?

“Seriously? You are still going to pretend that you don’t know me?”

“I don’t want to know you. We are getting a divorce right now,” I declare and conclude. The sooner we get over with this, the better.

“You can only divorce after four months,” the woman tells me and the bastard smirks again.

“Again, planned.”

“I am sorry, who the fuck do you think you are that I would plan to wed you?”

Some men are just too full of themselves.

“I am Erick Spencer. You are obviously after my money, fake rich lady from Cookon!” he yells before turning to the woman. I think she is his PA or something like that.

“Did you check her background and the footage?”

The woman nods. “Yes, Sir. Your drink was spiked. We have a footage of her friend passing the drug to the bartender.”

“That is bullshit!” I roar. My friend can be crazy and gullible, but they would never do this.

I am speechless when she gives me the photo of Jesse passing a tiny wrapped parcel to the bartender. Stela is laughing next to her. They did this. Why?

I am speechless when I see the so called footage of our wedding. I and Erick look wasted and my friends are the ones ushering us to the priest to get married. They look drunk too but very excited about this and even serving as our witnesses. I don’t get how a priest can get us married like that.

“Still denying it?” he smirks again.

“Believe me, I had nothing to do with this.”

I feel like I have been punched hard on my tummy. Surely this is some prank.

“Anyway, Master Spencer and Spencer senior want to see both of you ASAP.”