Chapter 3

I threw a couple of pebbles at Dianne's room window. No response. 

Shoot, I should have brought my phone.

What would I do if she didn't open up for me? 

My thoughts immediately went to Kyle—I could crash at his place... 

I shook off the thought as fast as it had come. 

Kyle had a very huge crush on me. Once upon a time, I too thought he was cute. We dated for a short while before realizing we were better off in our separate ways. Something nasty happened between us that I still can't comprehend. I suspected that Kyle had a mental condition but he was so good at masking it that I concluded I was just being paranoid. 

It would be awkward to spend the night at his place. 

I was so engrossed in my miserable thoughts that I didn't notice when Dianne's window opened. The next pebble I absent-mindedly threw hit her straight in the face. 

"Ouch!" she yelped. 

"Oops, I'm sorry."

"Geez, get your butt in here," she said, beckoning at me. 

Without further ado, I made my way into her room via her window. You could call me a pro at window climbing now. It came with my secret job description. 

On many nights, I and my small art gang would take big risks when we would go to public spaces to paint graffiti on the walls and floor. 

We always had such a fun time. It got even more exciting if we had to run from patrolling night guards who caught sight of us.

"I have been calling you like crazy. Girl! Is everything okay? You're crying!" Dianne said. 

"I am?" I said as I touched my face. I felt moisture—evidence that I had walked the entire way to Dianne's apartment, crying my eyes out.

Her room was a beautiful chaos. There were paint buckets and brushes strewn across the floor and shelves. Typical of Dianne. 

I began to pace the length of her room while she continued to look at me curiously. 

"Was it that bad? I thought you'd find your way out of that situation," Dianne said. "We're sorry we didn't come to help you. We didn't want to blow up our cover."

"That's not it, Dianne. Something worse has happened. I have a huge situation at hand right now."

"Okay? I can tell from your face and the fact that you're in my room at the witching hour. Relax. Sit here and tell me everything."

I took in a deep breath and cleared some clothes off her bed to create a space for me to sit. She took her position on the bed, facing me. 

"Dianne, I'm engaged."

Confusion clouded her face. "Uh?"

"I know it sounds ridiculous like I'm spewing gibberish, but I've been married off. I also had no idea until tonight. My Dad. He signed a contract with his long-lost best friend and now I'm chained to some random guy!"

I had no idea that my voice was steadily rising until Dianne placed a calming hand on my shoulders. 

"That's weird. Does that still happen in this generation? I thought it was only something restricted to movies and stories."

"Seriously, I'm hoping this is a nightmare that I'll wake up from. Gosh, you won't even believe who my fiance is... It's the guy from the art exhibition. The one whose girl I bumped into. You saw everything, right?"

Dianne looked contemplative. 

"Wow! It's more complicated than I thought. But, girl, that guy's a hottie. And he looks way above your social status. What about that wicked witch that he was with? What's his name?" she said and brought out her phone. 

"Sterling." I could tell Dianne had put on her detective mode. 

"Nice. Family name?" 

"Vanderbilt, I guess," I said absently. 

"Do you know anything else that might help?"

"Nah! I was too angry to pay attention."

"Hmmm..." She kept scrolling through her I*******m feed.

"I don't know, but is this him?" 

She showed me her screen. A blue tick showed next to the profile picture I recognized. 

"My God! Girl, this is insane! You have hit a jackpot!" Dianne let out a squeal. 

I rolled my eyes. 

"He is stinking rich. His net worth is in 12 figures! Let me see if I can find anything more."

She continued her search, this time on G****e.

"That's strange. He has only one professional picture everywhere. Is he a recluse?"

Just staring at his picture produced the same heart-thumping effect in my chest again. I was supposed to be angry.

I groaned and buried my face in Dianne's pillow. 

"You are attracted to him, aren't you?"

"Maybe... I don't know. This is so confusing." 

"Why not go for it?"

I didn't tell her that the main reason I was afraid about this was because I was still hurting from a difficult experience in my past that I had told absolutely no one about.  

Also, if I agreed with the whole arrangement, my freedom, albeit small, would be eliminated. 

I would be getting married to a freaking billionaire for goodness sake! The paparazzi, the glam, the expectations. I wasn't cut out for that kind of life. I just wanted to draw in solace all day and get recognized for my work. 

But, what choice did I have? Running away was no option because I could barely fend for myself. Besides, if I escaped, I would be found within one hour, thanks to my fiance's connections. 

I couldn't sleep even after Dianne did. 

Very early the next morning, I bid a sleepy Dianne goodbye and jogged back to my house. 

When I got to my room, I brought out my box of secret things from under my bed. I took my sketch pad from the box and flipped through the pictures of Mom that I had taken. 

What was the point of keeping it a secret anymore? If Dad thought he could dictate my life's trajectory, I'd let him know that his previous supposed hold on me was fickle. That should give me a little bit of satisfaction.