Here to propose marriage

Married for A Million Dollars:

.

Chapter 2: Here to propose marriage

.

“My coworker said Mr. Montenegro came looking for me,” Ariana explains impatiently. “Well, I’m looking at you and you’re definitely not him.”

A scowl replaces his smug expression. “I am definitely Mr. Montenegro—Williams Montenegro the first, to be exact.”

Judging from his bomber jacket that happens to be Saint Laurent, Balmain skinnies, and black suede Timberlands, he’s certainly loaded and dresses accordingly to that—nothing which Ariana didn’t expect.

On the other hand, there isn't a single trace of Walter’s qualities, like his cheeriness and bright black eyes he could associate him with. Except for that sculpted chin rudely pointing her way.

I have a feeling this is the part where I stop scribbling his name in my textbooks.

Nothing like your dream man turning out to be your worst nightmare.

Ariana snaps out of her reverie and focuses on those hazel eyes that still gleam in obvious disgust.

She rolls her own eyes in response. “Ah yes, the younger, more hot-headed, and less charming of the two. How could I forget. The pleasure’s all mine.”

She’s heard of Williams Montenegro, alright. His face is splattered all over Naver and American tabloids as one of the hottest topics of the media.

Being the apparent heir to Montenegro Industries and its current marketing director, he’s ruthless in his business, the eyecandy of social functions, and a tough case to top it all off.

And as Walter’s friend, she knows plenty about him. Walter has told her a lot—both the good and the bad—but Ariana always viewed him as a character in a great novel she’d continuously reread until now.

Okay, so maybe he wasn’t just any character—he was the prince, the hero that loves the princess (which Ariana totally didn’t imagine being) but these were the fantasies she’d dream of starting from age seventeen when Walter first mentioned him.

Since then, Ariana started paying more and more attention to all the details about Walter’s son that the media couldn’t catch.

In the past year though, she hasn’t found the time nor heart to revive her inner romantic. And Ariana knows, huffing out a breath and extending a polite hand to Williams, that she’s worn out and probably never will.

Williams looks at her hand as if it’ll lunge at his throat in no time. He shakes it briefly.

“Sarcasm isn’t the best of greeting and it’ll get you nowhere, Gillies,” he answer snootily, drawing back as quick as he touched. “And you’re not that cute yourself.”

Ariana ignores the lingering warmth in her palm and proceeds to wipe her hand across the back of his jeans.

She shrugs. “And you’re a hypocrite for that sarcastic comment, so now we’re even.”

Irritance transitioning to anger flares in his gold-flecked eyes as his lips curl to a sneer. “Not even close. Why don’t you take a seat and we’ll talk business.”

But Ariana shakes her head. “I doubt we have any business together, Mr. Montenegro. I have work to do and places to be. I’ll call Sal and he can take your order when you’re ready. Have a good—”

She had just turned away when Williams’s arm shoots up and yanks her elbow in an iron grip.

Ariana glances at it, eyes curving into slits. “I’d let go if I were you. I can break your nose and not a single person here would blink.”

His gaze darkens, grip refusing to loosen. “And I wouldn’t go threatening guys double your size, Gillies. Others might be okay with your tiny feet trampling all over them, but some of us have a little more self-respect than that. I, for one, care about where I get my kicks from. And I'm not afraid to kick back. ”

Red floods Ariana’s vision and before she knows it, she throws a punch.

Her fist grazes a fraction of Williams’s jaw before feeling thin air and just as she reacts, Williams is on his feet, grabbing her by the shoulders and slamming her into the booth where he settles himself in front of her, trapping Ariana with no way to escape.

He’s much stronger and larger than she had thought, and now he looks lethal.

“Let go of me, asshole,” Ariana snaps, struggling to push him off the edge of the seat, but Williams’s pure muscle under that sheer V-neck and doesn’t budge an inch. “You’re an arrogant dickhead and I’m not gonna waste my time on you.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Williams hisses and he would’ve clamped a hand on Ariana’s mouth if she hadn’t already obeyed.

People’s heads are beginning to shoot up in concern at the sound of Ariana’s yell.

He continues in a lower tone, “I don’t want to talk to you more than you do, so let’s make this quick. You need to fix the mess you created, and you need to fix it fast.”

That caught Ariana’s undivided attention.

She freezes and stares at him as if he grew a horn—make that two since he’s the devil. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Williams rolls his eyes and finally, finally releases Ariana from his grasp. He sits back on his heels. “Oh, you know very well what I’m talking about, Gillies. Didn’t you plan this out the moment you’ve gotten all chummy chummy with my father? Play him right into your hands so that he’ll never refuse you, including blackmailing his own goddamn son into getting what you want?”

Ariana blinks, schools her expression into a frown, and very carefully says, “I’m giving you ten seconds to explain yourself before I call the cops.”

Watching his jaw clench and a vein popping out of his neck, Ariana comes to the conclusion that Williams Montenegro is more than angry. He’s fucking furious.

This is no comedy, and the guy looks like he’s barely restraining himself from choking Ariana right there.

The cause of his anger is something she doesn’t know.

Okay, Ariana. You’re an adult. So act like an adult. Be civil towards the asshole.

“Let’s try again, from the top,” She manages to say calmly. “Why are you here? Tell me as if I’m unaware of everything, because you’re damn right I am. Please. Thank you.”

And while Ariana could be proud of her pleasant negotiation all he wanted, it doesn’t help because it only seems to piss Williams off more.

He draws in a long, jagged breath.

“I’m here to propose marriage, Gillies,” Williams says in a grave voice, as if he just announced someone’s death—but who’s death exactly, he wasn’t sure.

Ariana blinks once, twice, thrice, before she stretch into a wide grin and fucking loses it. Her head is thrown back in laughter, fist slamming the nearest thing—in this case, the table.

Someone from the other side curiously glances at them.

Williams’s nostrils flare. “And what exactly is so hilarious about this, Gillies?”

Clutching her stomach, Ariana gives one last chortle and shakes her head, wiping a few tears with her wrist and looks at his excellent poker face.

“Sorry,” Ariana says. “I thought I heard you say you’re here to propose marriage to me. Who paid you to do this? Walter? Where is that prick?”

“My father is in Yokohama as we speak,” Williams answers, void of any humor. “He left two days ago and warned me that if you and I aren’t engaged by next week, it’s done for me. He’ll make my fucking cousin James Alvarez the CEO by the end of this year.”

.

TBC