Chapter 6

Lucy's pov

I stared up at him resisting the urge to rearrange that smug face of his. He walked into my life in some strange way. Now he thought he could control it?

“I'm not marrying you. I'm not getting married to anyone,” I yelled, forcing the words through my teeth but he simply shrugged down a cup of water.

He leaned down until we were eye level. So close that I could feel his breath on my face and I took a step back. The sides of his lips curled up, igniting a spark of fear inside.

"That's not what the papers say Lucy," his voice came out dark, and i felt a shiver run down my spine. My temper grew but I only watched him unable to do anything.

"I want a divorce," I muttered without thinking. Shane stared at me for a second. Like he just noticed something odd and then a loud chuckle filled the room making the knot in my stomach tighten.

"You should know that getting a divorce isn't easy," I fought the urge to groan. It made no sense. Why would he do this?

Why would he want a girl like me? I had nothing. No trust fund. No company to my name. All of these didn't make sense

"One year," I said and he raised an eyebrow, rolling up his sleeves. I resisted the urge to drool at his veiny tattooed hand, my eyes not leaving his face.

"We are married for a year and after that we get divorced immediately," he looked ahead and for a minute I thought he was considering it.

"No," he muttered, walking past me and I stomped my feet on the floor, slowly losing it. I was still a college student. The idea of getting married so soon felt like a fever dream.

"If i don't get an agreement, I swear to the fucking heavens I will make your life a living hell," he paused in his tracks and i swallowed.

Every instinct screamed at me to run but I stayed still. "Be my guest.” With that he walked out, leaving me in the large and fancy room.

Days went by and I spent most of my time stuck in his apartment doing nothing. I was so bored I chose to study. Study!

I hardly saw Shane and even when I did he was on a call threatening someone as usual. I took a snack from the chef saying a small thank you when a familiar scent wafted through.

The scent of dark coffee and pine. It was musky. Dark. Perfect for someone like him. He strode in, giving me a condescending stare. I took a bite of my cookie shrugging. "What?"

"The billionaire wife isn't supposed to be moving around in only a shirt stuffing her face with cookies."

I shot him an unbothered look walking away. It was his loss and problem not mine. If he wanted pristine and proper, he knew where he could get them. "I didn't say you could walk away," he said, his voice calm.

I ignored him increasing my pace and just when I was about to shut my door he placed his hand stopping it. I gasped, staring at him, "what the fuck are you doing?"

He purred his way into my room and my temper slowly built up. "We have somewhere to be." I raised an eyebrow not liking where this was headed. "Where?" I asked with uncertainty

"Senator Charles is hosting a charity ball we have to attend," he muttered, taking a peak the diamond and gold plated watch sitting on his right wrist and we have less than two hours before it starts."

"Cool," I took a bite of my cookie falling on my bed.

“What do you mean cool? You're going, you have to, it's a perfect night to come out as a couple." He explained and I could tell by his tone that he was slowly losing his patience. Good.

"Cool as in. I'm not going to dress up just to go talk about the weather and which spoon is perfect for eating a salad for all I care.

Shane let out a tired and I watched him make a call asking for makeup artists amongst others. People who were the best at polishing up a dirt bag like me.

"I'm not going,” I repeated, barely reading the book in my hands. I had no idea when he walked towards him. I had heard no footsteps. Nothing. But he stood in front of me. My book in his hand.

Shane's eyes had darkened and I could feel a cloud of darkness around him. It was consuming.

"I don't give a shit how you do it but i want you to be in the car by eight. Sharp. He gave me an empty smile and I watched him strode out only to be replaced by two hair stylists and a makeup artist.

By the time they were done I hardly recognised myself. My hair had been curled into soft waves and I had a dark eyeshadow on that seemed to bring out my eyes.

The stylists gushed over their work as they left the room and I sucked in a shaky breath. Saying a short prayer I walked out of the room. My eyes locked with Shane's and for a second it felt like I had forgotten how to breathe.

His eyes darkened as he took me in and I took slow steps down the stairs. “Dont tell me you're already falling for me?” I asked, my voice laced with mock concern. I was nervous. Shaking but I was not going to let him see that.

He said not a word, walking away. We got into the lambogini and Shane handed me a paper. The urge to be difficult filled every part of me but I took it going through it.

It was a list of questions the press were likely to ask. My hands grew sweaty as I memorised it anticipating the event.

The car pulled over in front of a mansion and I let out a shaky breath staring at the rows and rows of reporters waiting to tear someone apart.

"Relax. They can smell fear,"Shane stated, before I could blink he grabbed me by the neck, claiming me with a hot kiss.