Chapter 2. His Visit

Charles Alejandro was at his hotel when he got the report that his chosen bride had arrived home.

He was eager to see Nancy, as his parents had been pressuring him to settle down. As their only son and the likely future president, he had many enemies.

Charles had been at his company earlier that morning before deciding to visit his hotel in the afternoon and spend the evening with an attractive woman.

It was no secret that he loved women. As a powerful man in A.J City, most young ladies knew it and wanted to get intimate with him.

Charles was a 30-year-old Black man—very attractive, tall, and masculine, with short black hair.

His mother wouldn't let him rest, constantly nagging him about marriage. She had even shown him photos of various ladies she had selected, urging him to choose one. But Charles wasn't interested in any of them; he preferred his promiscuous lifestyle, which his parents strongly opposed.

"Charles! You need to stop hosting different ladies and bringing shame to our family. You're the president's son, and you need to act respectable for once. How do you feel knowing that almost half the city's ladies have seen your nákedness?" his father asked him in the second-floor sitting room, seated on a black couch.

Charles smiled and replied, "Not half, Father. How could I possibly sleep with almost half of all the pretty ladies here? There are too many for me alone, and you know that."

Seeing that his father wasn't amused, Charles turned serious as well.

His father replied, "Then you need to marry, Charles. Otherwise, I'll seize every right you have and find someone competent to take over my wealth."

"Hmm..." Charles frowned as his father warned him with blazing eyes, then exited the sitting room to meet with his guests.

Charles mother stepped out of the elevator and entered the sitting room to join him. She asked, "Charles... I don't understand why you're afraid of marriage."

"Hmm, I'm not afraid of marriage, Mom," Charles replied. He took a cigarette from his trouser pocket, lit the end, and began smoking.

The truth was, he hadn't yet met a woman he truly loved.

To him, most young ladies were cheats and gold-diggers. He had seen plenty women who wanted to get intimate with him, conveniently forgetting their boyfriends or fiancés.

Charles didn't want a cheap woman as his wife, and finding the right one who matched his ideal had been difficult.

"Then what's the problem, Charles? You haven't accepted any invitations your father or I have offered. Or do you want us to choose a bride for you, marry her on your behalf, and bring her here?" his mother asked.

"No, Mother. I'm not interested in an arranged bride. Most young ladies are cheats and pretentious. Once they see that I'm the one who wants to marry them, they'll pretend to be nice and jump at the offer. So, no."

Charles shook his head, took a drag from his cigarette, and puffed the smoke into the air.

His mother frowned and replied, "No, Charles. That's what happens when you leave a responsible young lady and marry a prostitute like yourself."

"Mom..." Charles stared up at her in shock, shaking his head as he met her smiling gaze.

She was a 65-year-old Black woman, standing regal before him in a long blue traditional gown—she was a traditional woman at heart.

First Lady Kira approached Charles, who was seated on the black couch, and said, "Here, Charles... I have photos of three cute women for you to see. You can choose from among them—their families are well-respected and aligned with your father's political party."

"Mom..." Charles couldn't believe his mother was already clutching the three photos to her chest, ready to show them at any opportunity.

She approached again and handed them over. "Here, Charles, take a look."

"Hmm..." Charles accepted the photos from her.

He held his cigarette to his lips. Dressed in a black top, black leather trousers, and black boots—he loved all-black clothing—he stared at the first woman's photo.

She was cute, a Black-skinned lady with a round face and flat nose. But her big brown eyes shone seductively in the outdoor photo, where she wore a simple pink crop top and blue jeans.

Charles frowned, kept the cigarette on his lips, and slid to the next photo. His eyes fell on a pair of blue eyes.

She was cute, with a round face, pointed nose, blue eyes, and rosy dimples on her chubby cheeks.

Her plump lips enticed him to kiss the photo. Her long, sparkling golden hair glittered, making his jaw drop in admiration.

Staring at her bare, slender neck and the top of her slightly exposed bosom, Charles gulped, feeling his muscles harden with the desire to kiss and lick every inch of her beautiful fair skin.

He didn't realize how long he had been staring until his mother asked, "Charles... Do you like her?"

"Mom..." Charles snapped out of his trance.

He looked up at his mother's smiling face.

Holding back his response, Charles slid to the last woman's photo.

She was beautiful, a fair-skinned young woman, but chubbier than the second. She didn't catch his eye or make his heart race like the previous one had.

Charles swiped back to the second photo and handed the other two to his mother. "Who's she, Mom?" He asked.

First Lady Kira smiled and replied, "She's Nancy Marlon, Senator Logan Marlon's only child."

"Hmm..." Charles hummed and finished his cigarette.

His mother said, "I see that you like her, Charles. Don't worry—I'll arrange with my assistant to send the marriage proposal to her family at once, letting them know you've chosen to marry their daughter."

"Okay, Mom, but is she in the city? I'd like to see her in person. Does she really look like this? You know most young ladies edit their photos to look cuter and more attractive," Charles asked, still staring at Nancy's photo.

His mother smiled and replied, "I don't know, Charles, but I'll call her family to find out. Once she's here, we'll proceed with the wedding ceremony."

"Okay, Mom," Charles said with a smile, not rejecting the idea of marriage this time.

He wanted Nancy—every fiber of his body craved her.

Charles wanted to kiss Nancy's photo but suppressed the urge until his mother left.

Charles then stood up from the black couch and headed upstairs to his third-floor bedroom, taking Nancy's photo with him.

~•~

One month later,

Charles went to his luxury hotel over the weekend, hoping to find an attractive lady to distract him from thinking about Nancy while he awaited her return to the city.

But none of the pretty, hot women he saw moved his heart or stirred his desire like the one woman he wanted: Nancy Marlon.

"Boss, our security men embedded in Nancy's father's team just called. Your chosen bride has returned to the city and is at her family home as we speak," his personal assistant, Dennis Richard, informed him over the phone. Charles was in the presidential suite of his luxurious hotel.

"Prepare the car," Charles replied. "We're leaving now for her father's mansion."

"Okay, boss," Dennis answered.

Charles immediately dismissed the pretty lady who was pleasuring him, feeling irritated and consumed by the desire to meet his chosen bride—the one his heart wanted and needed.

Charles exited the top floor of his hotel, dressed in a black suit and red undershirt, he approached his car.

His security men opened the door for him, then shut it once he was inside. The three cars drove out toward Senator Logan Marlon's residence.