Chapter 4 The Meeting II

Kendal's POV

The plan was a success. When I saw the look on his face, a mix of confusion and anger, I nearly burst out laughing. Clearly, he's an impatient man. I intentionally arrived late and dressed a certain way to provoke him. My presence here is solely for a purpose, not because I genuinely want to proceed with the supposed silly betrothal and marriage preparations.

The more I dwell on this situation, it frustrates me, and I feel compelled to defy my parents for making such a significant decision on my behalf. I possess the right to oppose them, the right to make my own choices-I'm not a child.

Discovering Nancy in Karl's apartment last night resulted from my decision to come here, a decision I hadn't initially intended to make. I've been betrayed by my two best friends, and now, I want to exact revenge on them.

Mom was right; Karl isn't good for me. Initially, I was trying to find reasons to justify his actions, but now it's painfully clear that he desires my friend too. He doesn't love me. If he truly did, he wouldn't betray me by getting involved with my best friend.

"That's the breaking point," he declares abruptly, pushing the chair back as he stands up in front of me.

"Wait," I call after him before he departs. He doesn't look unpleasant. I hadn't anticipated encountering such an attractive man to be my potential groom, but that's not the issue at the moment. We need to have a conversation.

I don't want him to find me attractive, which is why I resorted to the only idea that popped into my head: dressing up like a clown.

"He must have reserved the entire place for us; we're the only ones here." Despite the fact that it is not even dusk, the 'CLOSED' sign is already posted outside the restaurant. This must be one of the pleasures of being a billionaire. That was something my mother emphasized. She mentioned that he was both a billionaire and well-known."

"Can't I take advantage of him and his status too?" I muse aloud, contemplating the idea.

"Why do you think you're here, dressed like this?" He thunders angrily, his ice-blue eyes glaring at me. I fight back a shudder, maintaining my composure. If this is the man I must face to settle the score with Karl and Nancy, then I need courage, refusing to succumb to intimidation.

"Do you think I have time for jokes and-"

"Why are we here, Mr. Man?" I cut him short abruptly, locking eyes with him. His broad shoulders tense, his frown deepening as he continues to scrutinize me.

Now, I feel foolish for wearing this excessive makeup. Perhaps I should have chosen a more suitable outfit; maybe he wouldn't be this furious. He seems to be dissecting the kind of person I am with just a glance, his stares sharp and chilly.

"Could you please sit?" I politely request, forcing myself to stay composed, resisting the urge to reciprocate his anger.

"Are you truly the woman I was betrothed to?" He questions with doubt etched across his face.

I nod slowly, and as I do, remorse intensifies, yearning to reveal my true self.

He shakes his head and finally takes a seat. I anticipate him to initiate the conversation, considering he orchestrated this meeting, but he remains silent, glaring at me with cold intensity. Undeterred, I hold my head high.

"Why are we here, Mr. Man?" I repeat my question, realizing I can't recall his name.

He leans forward, tapping his fingers on the table without uttering a word. Before I can inquire about his name, he speaks up, his deep, husky voice resonating in my head. "Why are you dressed this way?"

Embarrassment threatens to make me look down. I didn't think this through before proceeding. Is this what heartbreak means? Engaging in irrational acts, acting foolishly, and losing all sense of shame.

I would never have had the courage to dress this way a week ago. I care about my looks and appearance. I care about what I wear. I care about what people say but here I am sitting right in front of the man whose fate has been tied to mine, dressed like an idiot just because my heart was broken and I want revenge.

"I just feel like it", I answer him, careful not to show what and how I feel.

Tears are springing to my eyes but I am forcing them back, my eyes down.

"Do you just enjoy embarrassing me?" I hear him ask once more. "What bloggers capture us in a photo, and it becomes a viral sensation? What image do you want them to perceive? How do you expect me to..."

"Is that your primary concern?" I cut him off, lifting my gaze to meet his.

"Yes," he replies sternly, almost grinding his teeth. His eyes still burn with anger, and his cheekbone is raised, reflecting his irritation at my choice of attire. "We all have our priorities. I care about my reputation and what people say about everything related to me, including you. If you also care about public opinion, you wouldn't deliberately dress this way just to spite me."

He's aware.

"For this arrangement to succeed, you need to consider public perception just as I do, and prioritize my reputation."

"Is that an order?" I retort as sharply as I can.

This should be a mutual agreement. Marriage itself is a pact, but ours isn't the typical kind. We're entering this union because of our parents' wishes and my desire to assist my father, and, admittedly, to exact revenge on Karl and Nancy.

He shouldn't be dictating terms to me. I could still choose to rebel and inform my father that I'm uninterested and will never be interested.

What made me believe that the supposedly decent man my mother spoke highly of would truly be decent, humane, and grounded?

This man before me is far from humble. He's an arrogant and insufferable person.

"What if it is?" He challenges me, daring me to defy him. I shake my head because he doesn't understand me.

I listen to no one. No one can order me around, not even my parents. If I don't want to marry him, nobody can force me to.

I am here because I want to. I am thinking of our stupid marriage because I need to.

"Who the hell do you think you are?" I find myself voicing out, my attempt to keep cool gone, my anger rising to the highest point.

He smirks, as though he has succeeded in seeing the true me. My angry side.

"You think I am here because I fancy you?" I point an accusing finger at myself. Before I can continue with my ranting, a waitress appears from nowhere and the scowl directed at the man before me is thrown towards the waitress's way.

She is smiling.

"Good day, what would you like to order?" She asks.

I wonder if she is oblivious to the tension between us or if she chooses to pay a deaf ear and an eye to it.

Her smile is adding to my rage.

"I want..."

"Nothing," I say in a raised voice, stopping him from ordering. We are not here on a real date. We are here to talk.

He raises a brow at me and I drop my finger.

"We are here to talk, aren't we?" I flash him one of my cutest smiles, quickly replacing it with the scowl on my face.

What is the use of letting the waitress know about my anger?

"Yes, we are..."

"We should talk, then."

As quickly as she came, the waitress leaves but not before flashing him a seductive smile.

Silly!

Without wasting any more of my time, even though I don't have a job and I don't intend to get one anytime soon, I lean forward so we can get this done and I can go home.

Writing is the only thing I do. It is not a job but a hobby but ever since that night I caught Karl creating on me, I have been creating more time for writing.

I never had time before now because I was either waiting for Karl to come to take me out or I was in his house, waiting for his arrival from work.

"About our marriage..."

"This is..." we both say at the same time but I am not here to listen to whatever trash he has to say.

He is a man and can decide to get one of his numerous bitches to be married to. He must have a tangible reason for wanting to marry me and that is what I want to use it to my advantage.

"Go on", he urges me like a gentleman will do but I can't fall for that. No matter how gentle he is from now on, he will remain an arrogant bastard to me till the very end.

"This thing between us is unusual and it is not the exact type of marriage that I want for myself", I state with full confidence and he watches me intensely. "Therefore, I am proposing that we sign a contract for our marriage."

He doesn't blink for a while. He doesn't say anything either and I am thinking he doesn't understand my point until he furrows his brow at me and exclaims. "What?!"

Don't you understand English? I ask inwardly, wishing so desperately to spill that out.

"Let's sign a marriage contract. I do not like you and you do not like me. Let's get married for a few years and according to the contract, we will be divorced. That way, our parents will be satisfied and we will be too, especially me because I don't have to be stuck with you forever."

He does not say anything again.

Why is he hesitating? Does he want a forever-deal marriage? Even if he wants, that would never be with me. I am way beyond his league. He might be a billionaire but I am beyond his league.

"Is that a deal?" I ask with impatience.

He continues to study with me for a while. Just when I am thinking he is about to say something because he slightly opens his mouth, all that comes out is laughter.

His deep husky voice produces deep, rich laughter and I watch in awe, wondering if this laughter is directed at my appearance or the idea of a contract marriage