Chapter 2

Adam...

HERE we are again. It's so annoying and tiresome. This person doesn't even have an ounce of pity for me. Wasn't I almost at my breaking point the other day? I was the one who got hurt. I knew what I did was wrong, but that wouldn't have happened if only she wasn't treating me this way. And now, she threw a spoon at me. Of course, it hurt; I got hit on the cheek, and now there's a bruise.

"You're really going too far, you woman. Be thankful I'm not giving you a taste of your own medicine!"

"I'm not asking for retaliation, just some respect and decency," she retorted.

"None of this would have happened if you didn't treat me this way."

"Why? Isn't it part of the agreement that I can do whatever I want to you, since you're my slave?"

"I'm not your slave; I'm your husband."

"It's practically the same thing."

"So, being a husband is the same as being a servant? Then you should have married one."

"Who was the one who first asked for help?"

I clenched my fist. Damn it, I was the one who approached her first.

She was in the library, looking for a book. I walked up to her and asked, "Are you Chrisanya Evangelista?" She looked at me, seemingly surprised.

"Y-Yes?" she replied hesitantly, glancing around. "...Are you talking to me?"

"Are there other people around in this area?" I countered with a question, and she laughed.

"And what do you need?" she crossed her arms and stared at me.

"Uhmm, Ah--" How should I say this to her?

"You know, you're just wasting my time," she remarked, noticing the book she was looking for but couldn't reach. So, I reached for it and handed it to her. That part of the shelf was very high, and there were no stairs, so I used the bookshelves themselves as makeshift steps. Unfortunately, some books fell down, and the nosy students scattered, taking pictures of us.

No one even helped. I ended up on top of her; she was on the ground with books and her lips, unintentionally, I kissed her, and her eyes widened. When we stood up, she ran away. I didn't even get to say sorry, and I didn't get to tell her what I wanted to say. I waited for her after school in the car park. I caught up with her before she got into her car, and I grabbed her arm.

"Ms. Evangelista, I'm sorry about earlier, but I really need to say this to you," she looked at my hand on her arm, so I removed it.

"Sorry, I'm really sorry for earlier."

"Say what you need to say because I don't have all day to waste my precious time with you."

"Okay, I'm Adam Zhymian. If you've heard about the Z Corporation, owned by my parents."

"Ah, so you're the heir. It's not obvious from your appearance that you're the son of Mr. and Mrs. Zhymian," she said, scrutinizing me from head to toe.

"So, what do you want from me?" she asked again.

"I need you to be my wife."

"Your what?" she exclaimed, luckily there weren't many people around that area.

"My wife," I replied softly.

"Look, I don't know if you're aware that Evanglista Inc. and Z Corporation are both facing financial trouble, and the only way to save the companies is by merging them. However, I know that no matter how much my parents are struggling, they wouldn't force me into marriage with anyone, as they only care about my happiness," she nodded along, seeming surprised by what I said.

"I've heard that your parents are in negotiations with mine for the merger, but my parents aren't interested because it might upset me. So now, I'm here. I want to marry you to put an end to all of this mess. We can just tell them that we fell for each other."

"Fine, since I can't imagine living a difficult life, and I don't believe in marriage anyway, but I have a condition."

"What is it?"

"No one in the entire school should know about us, even if we get married."

I smiled and nodded.

I thought things would be okay after that, that our problems would be resolved. But it got worse because of this woman.

"So, do you remember now?" she raised an eyebrow at me. "You were the one who approached first, the first to ask questions. That's why I'm the boss, and you are my slave," she said, stepping closer to me. She took a glass of water and splashed it on my clothes, then laughed. She was about to leave when I grabbed her arm.

"Slave, huh? Why not add 'sex slave' or 'boy toy'?" I said sarcastically, and she gave me a bitter smile. She ran her index finger from my face down to my chest, going lower to my abdomen but stopped.

"Sorry, but not my type," she said and shrugged me off.

"True, because the type of guys you desire are the ones you and your friends see on the basketball court," I retorted.

"Don't you dare speak to me that way!" she said, her eyes narrowing.

"If I'm not your type, don't worry, the feeling is mutual. In fact, I regret approaching you and offering something I shouldn't have, because things have gotten even worse," she fell silent. "Don't worry; I never dreamt of being with you forever. I definitely never dreamed of marrying a heartless woman like you."

She walked away and entered her own room. I didn't care about her reaction. If she felt hurt, it was only fair; we were both hurting.