Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 70980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 355(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 355(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
Lottie throws a pillow at my face. I catch it.
“Sometimes you act like a spoiled brat,” I say to her, throwing the pillow to the floor.
“That’s rich coming from you. You can’t function if you are not getting your way. First, you blackmail me. Then you force me to marry you. You made me move in here. Made me give up my home. So, you can what…” Her eyebrows raise. “Move into your own apartment?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“It’s easier that way. You can have this house to yourself. Some of my things will still be here to show that I am living here, but I won’t be. You can do as you please, just don’t ruin my clothes again.”
“So tomorrow, you’re just going to go to your apartment?”
“Yes, we’ve just discussed this.”
“So, you can fuck who you want. Correct?”
I smile. She isn’t dumb.
“Yes.”
“Thank fuck, I didn’t just fuck you then.” She turns around, showing me her back as she turns off the light.
“Goodnight,” I tell her.
“Fuck off already,” she tells me back.
“Okay, dude, there’s over one hundred people out there. What the fuck?” Barry says, opening the door and coming back inside. “This was meant to be small.”
It was, until her father got involved and changed all our plans.
“Is it time?” I ask him.
Lottie didn’t speak to me this morning. She simply took her dress out of the closet when her friend Emma arrived and left without saying goodbye. It’s probably easier that way. Not to have to deal with her attitude or mood swings. After this, she can go on living her life, and we will only have to be together for functions, so people believe we are actually husband and wife.
Easy.
I hope.
The door opens, and in walks her father dressed in a designer suit.
“You ready?” he asks, looking from me to Barry, who’s nodding his head.
“Yes.”
“Good. She’s ready,” he says, looking behind him. “Did you think any more about my offer of the sponsorship?”
Barry looks to me, knowing full well what type of man this is we are dealing with.
“No, not yet.”
“Okay, well, think on it. We have a gala coming up soon. It could benefit you.” He spins around and walks out.
“Did he just do that on your wedding day?” Barry asks. “That man is a real piece of work.”
“Yep.”
“How on earth did Lottie even manage to turn out normal with him around.”
It isn’t a question. It’s a fact.
She should be a ruthless cold-hearted bitch, and in some ways, she is. But I can also see she cares. Something her father lacks greatly. He doesn’t even show his daughter affection unless it’s fake and in public so he can gain from it. I bet he didn’t even ask her if she loves me. He’s just happy that she’s marrying someone of quality for money.
“Okay, let’s do this.”
Barry straightens out his suit jacket and walks out, I follow closely behind until I am standing at the end of the aisle. I had the venue picked out already and let her decorate it to her tastes. Though, my assistant told me Lottie said she could do whatever the fuck she wanted with it. So, I have a feeling she has no idea, and she probably couldn’t care less either.
Either side of the aisle is green, with logs covered in moss. It’s very outdoorsy but has an inside feel. Flowers coat the floor where she will be walking, and fairy lights drop down on either side of the aisle.
It is beautiful.
The music starts playing, and soon everyone stands.
My hands start to sweat.
Is this really the best thing to do?
I should call it off.
I don’t want to get married again.
Fuck!
Looking back, I hear the invited guests gasp, and then I see her.
Holy shit! She’s beautiful.
Lottie has on an open form dress, where it goes up the front to a skirt and falls at the back with a train, her legs have rhinestones all over them, and her feet are bare as she steps on the flowers covering the floor.
Her hair is tied up, and her face is even more beautiful with a little makeup applied.
Lottie’s lips are red as fire, and she smiles when she sees me, making me in turn smile back at her. I can tell it’s forced, but mine isn’t.
She really is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I don’t even look at her father when she reaches me, placing her hand in mine. My eyes don’t leave hers. It is next to impossible to do so. How could they treat her this way?
“You look beautiful,” I tell her, and it’s the truth.
“Thank you,” she says back to me.
The ceremony starts, and my hand doesn’t leave hers. Her dress clings to her upper body like it was painted on her. It shows no cleavage as it wraps around her neck.
Everything goes fast and in a blur. The whole time, I can’t stop looking at her. She blushes at my stare and does well to hide it.