CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Sharon shifted uncomfortably. Something was terribly wrong. She hadn't had a night this bad since her one night stand.

Then she opened her eyes and they scanned her surroundings.

That was it!

She wasn't in her house, she wasn't on her bed, she was in Luca Pavilochenki's mansion.

Still something wasn't right. She didn't remember falling asleep on a bed, or inside a room for that matter

She was on the floor, crying her eyes out, then she slept of exhaustion. The rest was blurry.

“Ouch”

She said, Her lips stung and she ached all over, because she slept in a dress that was laced with diamonds that pricked her throughout the night.

She stood up and tried to relieve herself of the dress.

Who carried her?

It could've been a female servant, but if it was, the woman would've taken the dress off for her.

It could've been a male servant but Luca wouldn't just let a random servant see her in that state, right?

It could've been Luca

“No, there's no fucking way”

Sharon said out loud.

After the stunts he pulled on their wedding night, she wouldn't expect more from him.

The room was twice as big as the one she slept in back at home. And her father was rich!

Exactly what sort of wealth did the Pavilochenki's have?

Well Sharon had her answer.

The Pavilochenki's had the kind of power and influence that would make her father arrange a marriage to their heir, with his “only” child

Sharon marvelled at the walk in closet. She was more surprised when she found out it had been stacked with clothes, not just any clothes. They all screamed;

“Here comes the young mistress of the Pavilochenki dynasty, acknowledge her!”

Jewellery, perfumes, shoes, cosmetics, everything was there. Her boxes, the ones she packed full of clothes would be practically useless, except for the lingerie.

Well that was useless too. She saw no reason to look sexy for the man who was going to make her life a living hell.

There was a table with what looked like papers stapled together

Her curiosity got the best of her, and she decided to check it out

It read

TERMS AND CONDITIONS

Sharon didn't need to look a second time. She squeezed it and began to rip it into shreds, making guttural sounds as she did so

At some point in her streak of madness, she thought she heard a knock, but she was occupied

Then she looked at the floor, at her handiwork. Lucas “terms and conditions” had been shredded to bits so much so that she couldn't count them.

“Ha”

“Ha ha!”

“Ha ha ha!”

Then the door was pushed open, and Arman pointed a gun at her

“What in the—”

Arman looked like he had seen a ghost.

Sharon's hair was undone thanks to her twisting and turning and gravity made it hang in awkward places

She had cried the mascara off her eyes and the black inkish looking substance had run from her eyes down to her cheeks.

Her corset was missing a few ropes. Like she had attempted to pull of the entire dress and gave up.

Shredded paper was bunched up in her hands, and the rest was on the floor.

Not to mention she had been laughing like a psychiatric patient—

Arman lowered his gun and put it back into his pocket.

“I sincerely apologise for my Intrusion Young Mrs Pavilochenki, and for pointing a rifle at you”

Sharon burst out laughing, a little less crazy this time.

She let go of the paper she was holding and smoothed her gown, as if that would make her look less mad.

“I'm sorry too, you did not have to see that”

“Believe it or not I'm not always like this”

“Right”

Arman wasn't convinced.

He looked uneasy.

Your servants will be here in two minutes, Luca wants to see you downstairs in 30 minutes

“He can go shit himself, tell him I said that”

“A reporter from “The real Times” is coming today, I really think you should reconsider”

“Fine I'll come, but not because of him. Tell him I said that”

“Thanks for cooperating Young mrs Pavilochenki, I'll deliver your message”

“Hey, Arman right”

“Yes Young mrs—”

“Thanks for carrying me last night. I know It was you, don't you lie”

You're—

“And call me Sharon, it's weird that you call him Luca and call me Young mrs Pavilochenki”

“I'll discuss that with—”

“And please can we keep this between us?

You did not see me tearing anything—”

***************

Sharon was dressed in greyish blue lounge wear, typical housewife clothes that were supposed to make her look like the typical rich young housewife

But for some reason, it seemed like a thirst trap.

It wasn't the clothes, it was her. It really wasn't her fault that she looked ridiculously sexy in anything she wore.

Goodness, she wasn't even the one that picked it.

As she climbed down the stairs, she could make out Luca's figure from a distance.

He was wearing a Grey kimono overgarment made of brushed cotton and jersey blend, a lounge tee made of french Terry in a lighter shade of gray, and loose black pants.

His hair messy, deep blue nonchalant eyes stared into space

“It's either you have very little respect for time or you're just clueless”

He said as his eyes scanned her from head to toe.

“Well good morning to you too dear, hope you slept well”

Sharon said in a sarcastic tone.

“Follow me”

Something told Sharon that it wasn't a request, but an order.

Luca led Sharon to an outdoor dining, the table was set and the chairs and tables were made of bamboo.

They had breakfast quietly, none of them uttered a word to each other.

After the table was cleared, Luca whispered something, and three magazines were brought to the table.

“I don't understand, what are these for?”

Sharon asked

These are failed billionaire marriages.

Mr and Mrs Kettridge, Ali Senat and Sophie Salvatore, and finally Damien Roth well and Mary Ellis.

“And how does that concern us?”

“Like I said, you're not very bright. They failed because the press caught up with them. They couldn't keep up their appearances”

“The Kettridge case was the most astonishing. Mrs Kettridge had a cold, just two days after their wedding. She was admitted. Seems completely normal—”

“I don't know where you're going with this”

You see, it wasn't a normal cold, it was tuberculosis. And as you know it is an infectious disease, Mr Kettridge by default was supposed to be the first to contact it

“Uh huh”

“The real times picked up the story, and it was discovered that Mr Kettridge and Mrs Kettridge” weren't involved, infact they had never slept together.

The press dug deeper and found out that Mr Kettridge was gay

And the only reason they got married was to merge their families businesses.”

“So basically —”

“Basically” he said as he stood up and walked to her side of the table.

“Basically you're going to act like all those little bruises on your skin

Are nothing but hickeys—