Chapter 3 Marry me instead!

As I walked into the building, I headed straight to the desk that has a golden plaque with "Reception" written on it.

A lady was seated behind the desk-her hair packed in a slick ponytail, round glasses perched on her nose, and a white t-shirt with the first three buttons unbuttoned, little of her cleavage was displayed.

I cleared my throat once, but she didn't acknowledge me, she had all her attention on the computer in front of her.

I cleared my throat the second time and said, "I'm looking for, erm..." My mind suddenly went black. What was his name again? Mom mentioned it numerous times, but I didn't care to listen. Serena told me his name was the polar opposite of who he really was, and his surname sounded like the name of an expensive wine.

I tapped my foot on the floor, still trying to recall. Opposite. Expensive wine. I snapped my fingers but not too loud as it finally dawned on me.

"I'd like to see Mr. Christian Hartley." I repeated, more certain this time.

"Do you have an appointment with him?" She asked without even looking up.

"Well, no. The thing is—"

"You can't see him unless you have an appointment with him." She cut me off before I could complete what I wanted to say.

"Look, I just need five minutes." I said desperately.

"Leave before I call the security."

Just as I was about to let out a retort, a familiar masculine voice came from behind me.

"How may I help you?" I already knew who it was before turning. Even though the voice only said a few words this morning, it seemed like my brain had memorized the sound of it. The lady behind the desk was already on her feet, her face pale.

I turned in the direction the voice came from.

There he was, standing by the glass revolving doors, with a man in formal clothes and a bowl-cut hairstyle, a tablet in his right hand, standing next to him.

"I need to speak with you." I said, skipping pleasantries.

"Is it business related?" He said and started walking, passing me by. I followed him.

"No, but—"

"If it's not about business, then I'm not interested," he said. "I suggest you leave." He added.

That wasn't enough to make me leave without accomplishing the mission I came here for. I didn't listen and followed him into the glass elevator, my heels clicking softly against the floor as I stepped in after him, and right before the doors closed, I noticed the man who had been beside him didn’t follow us in, he just stood right outside the elevator, his hands around the tablet curling tighter. My attention on him slowly faded as the door closed and the elevator was filled with a scent like sandalwood mixed with something spicy. It was such an addicting smell coming from the only person in the elevator with me.

I cleared my throat to start what I came here for, but it seems the scent coming from him had replaced oxygen, and it was getting hard to focus. The silence in the elevator was thick with tension. Christian has his eyes locked straight ahead, oblivious to how I was struggling behind him.

When the elevator finally opened, he stepped out first, and I followed behind quietly until we entered a wide office with floor-to-ceiling windows with an incredible city view. I closed the door behind me and took a deep breath before I snapped, "Okay, listen to me."

He didn’t turn around, just walked to his desk and placed the phone in his hand into its holder before saying flatly, “The wedding will go on as planned.”

His voice was so dismissive that it made something twist in my chest. Anger? Most definitely, but I didn't let it get to me.

"My sister doesn't want to marry you; she's in a relationship with someone else." I said calmly.

"And what does that have to do with me?" He asked, looking for something in his table drawers.

I almost called him an asshole for his responses but held it in. I had expected for it not to be easy.

"Please, call it off. My parents won't listen and—"

He cut me off. "And what makes you think I would listen?" Why did I think he'd listen again?

I breathed and moved closer to him.

“Because I thought maybe, just maybe, under all that cold, you still had some kind of heart. Something human. Something that wouldn’t want to force a girl who’s in love with someone else into a marriage she’s terrified of.”

He stopped going through his drawers; his eyes met mine.

His silence made me half convinced that maybe under all that, Serena was wrong about him. Maybe he wasn't a cold jerk to the core. I stood there, hoping he was considering calling it off.

"I have a meeting in two minutes. Please, leave." He said dismissively. He was getting on my nerves, and I was about to lose it.

He went back to looking through his drawers. I scoffed, loud enough to get his attention. "So you are just going to let it happen?"

"This marriage deal is worth millions of dollars, and I'll be damned if I let it slip away because you both believe in fairytales."

"Excuse me?"

He grabbed a brown envelope from one of the drawers, ignoring me. He walked around the table and directly towards me. I stood there, ready to reply to whatever comes out of that mouth, but he passed me by.

I reached my hand out and stepped in front of him, stopping him.

"You’re actually okay with marrying someone who doesn’t love you, someone who cries at night because of you?"

He stared at me. He wasn’t fazed at all. I see something dark in his eyes, and that something made me realize he doesn't care one bit; he was just like Mom and Dad. Christian took a step forward, I didn’t move right away, so he kept walking, and I found myself stepping back with every inch he closed between us.

He didn't say a word. His eyes were holding mine, and I knew what he was trying to do. He was trying to make me feel intimidated, but I wasn't going to back down.

I kept my chin up and didn’t break eye contact even though my back finally hit the wall and he stopped right in front of me.

Something shifted in my chest, and suddenly images appeared in my head. Images from that night.

It was the same view, but I wasn't standing; I was in his arms, and my head was resting on his chest. Another image appeared, my fingers were curled around his tie, probably while I was kissing him.

He was saying something, but I couldn't hear it; my hands moved like they had a mind of their own and landed on his chest. To feel it? I wasn't sure. To remember what else happened that night? Probably. My hands flexed around, and weirdly, he didn't try to stop me.

My eyes slowly met his, and I saw some fleet through them, something that made me wonder if I wasn't the only one feeling weird right now. My eyes dropped to his lips and another image appeared in my head again. I remembered brushing my thumb over them that night to wipe my lip gloss off and laughing after.

My breath hitched, and something twisted deep in me. He remembers too, right? Why else would he give me back the money I left for him, thinking he was some callboy?

I tried to duck under his arm and escape the proximity between us, but his hand grabbed my shoulders and pinned me against the wall.

"This wedding is happening. Tell your sister to start preparing."

Then he let go and stepped back. I stood there staring at him, my heart beating so freaking fast.

Serena would run away if the wedding doesn't get called off, and our parents would blame her, and the whole thing would fall apart, or worse, Serena will disappear to where even I can't find her. I can't let that happen.

"Marry me instead." The words came out before I could stop them.