Tangled desire

Lyla hurriedly got down from the taxi, rushing into her family's apartment across the street without even bothering to check for incoming vehicles. She hung her coat and proceeded to the room.

"Lyla" her dad called as she walked in.

"What did the doctor say?" She sat beside her I'll mother, taking her palm in her hand and pressing her lips softly against it.

"Same thing,she needs the surgery immediately or we'd lose her"

She felt a burning sensation in her heart as the thought of losing her mother crossed her mind. She had just lost her best friend to a car accident the previous year. One more loss of a loved one and she could go down the drain.

"This is the only option Lyla,"her father's voice said gently, pulling her out of her thoughts. He had a brown envelope in his hand which was stretched towards Lyla. She stared at the envelope curiously before taking it slowly.

"What's this dad?" she asked, tearing off its sealed top and reaching for the paper inside.

"That's the only solution"

Lyla felt her heart drown into her stomach as she stared at the paper. Her eyes widened in bewilderment,still trying to take in what her eyes were reading.

"A marriage arrangement!" She blurted, bearing her eyes to those of her father.

Mr. Thompson padded to where she sat and grabbed her hands,but she pulled them off immediately. "Tell me this is a joke dad!"

"Lyla, listen,I had no other option–"

"Don't tell me that dad!" She interrupted. She flung the papers and walked to the window.

Her lungs were failing her. Her breathing got stiffened. She clenched onto the window seal, trying to get her racing heart to a normal pace.

Ever since her mother fell ill,the pressure to provide for the family grew on her. Her father was getting minor pay checks from his menial job at the Blackwoods Company.

She had to take on three jobs a day, working round the clock,with barely enough time to spend on herself or with friends and family. She was doing her best for the family. How could get father sell her off like she was a piece of clothing?

She felt his hand on her shoulder, trying to turn her around. She resisted. "How could you agree to something like this! I barely know who this is! I am struggling to make ends meet and you think selling me off to some billionaire is the only solution?"

"Don't be selfish Lyla" her father lashed out. He had listened to her speak about herself and prioritize herself to the problem at hand.

"You're not doing this for me. You're neither doing it for yourself. It's for the family. We need liberation. Ain't you tired of working round the clock all day and yet having little or no result to show for it?"

Lyla could only imagine what her life would have been like if she wasn't denied the opportunity to the Olympics by her so-called parents when she was still in high school. Things would have been a whole lot different.

"How about my happiness,dad?" she started. The tears brewing in her eyes began to trickle down her cheek. "What about my goals? My desires?" She burst into tears, burying her head in her palm.

"Lyla, desperate times call for desperate measures. We need this now. Your goals,your desires,they're going nowhere love" he managed to get her to face him.

He took her hands in his palm, rubbing them gently with a fatherly smile engulfing his face. His eyes were already getting clouded with tears which were stubborn to let go.

"Your happiness? Your family is your happiness. We are your happiness" she added.

Lyla let out a soft chuckle, cleaning her tears with her hands. It gave Mr. Thompson a glimmer of hope. She was going to accept it. "It's just a silly marriage. No one really cares these days"

"I'm sorry dad,but i won't be marrying someone I do not love" she ended the conversation and stormed into her room.

She locked the door behind her, hurriedly taking out clothes from her wardrobe and stocking them up in her small traveling bag. Never was she going to be a mere commodity to be traded.

She got all necessary clothes and documents into the bag and clenched onto its handle tightly. Her door squeaked as she opened it a little,enough for her eye to look through.

The parlor sounded quiet. She could hear her father on a phone call inside his room. He was probably talking to her mum. She crept down the stairs,till she got to the door.

The front exit door made a creaking noise as she pulled it open. She suspected it must've attracted her father's attention as she heard his room door open.

She took to her heels,heading for the nearest train station.

It was already getting late. The cold wind blew across her face, dumping the thoughts of her father's actions in her mind. It pierced her like the edges of steel swords, knowing he would betray her in such a manner.

She paced about the train station, wondering why it was taking eternity to get to the stop. Her time was ticking. She could bet they were already looking for her.

'How could he do such a thing? How could he agree to sell me off in such a manner. I'm worth more than that' she thought to herself, trying to get a hold of her breath.

The droplets of rain on her skin sent shivers down her spine. She folded her arms across her breasts, squeezing into herself. Her cellphone rang. It was her dad. She ended the call abruptly and pocketed it.

It rang a second time,but she didn't bother looking at it. If they wanted her around that much, they wouldn't have done such a thing to her.

The blaring horn of the train echoed from a distance. Finally, She was going away. Far away from them. Her patience itched as she could finally get a sight of the train.

It came to a stop at the station and the doors opened. She grasped onto her bag and hurried to the door.

Lyla froze instantly in her tracks seeing the elegant and muscular guy highlight from the train. She contemplated running,since he hadn't seen her. His eyes bore into hers instantly,like he was reading her thoughts.

He walked slowly to her, watching as her hands trembled. Lyla's face went numb all of a sudden. Her heart raced. She took in a large gulp of her saliva, trying to get hold of her gittering teeth.

"We meet again, Lyla" he said with an evil smile playing around the edge of his lips.

______

"I apologize for the inconvenience this has caused you. I promise to get her together" Mr. Thompson apologized to Mr. Blackwood, who has refused to come into the house because he found it degrading.

Lyla sat in the kitchen, staring blankly into her steaming cup of coffee. She was lost in her thoughts, totally unaware of the activities going on around her.

"You should take your coffee before it gets cold," Grey said from the counter where he sat. His voice pulled her out of her thoughts.

Mr. Blackwood was informed of Lyla's sudden disappearance by Lyla's dad. He found his way around the street CCTV and was able to trace her location. He sent Grey Blackwood, his son, to get her home safely in preparation for the wedding a few hours ahead.

However, they were able to recognize each other because that wasn't the first time they were meeting.

A few months ago, Lyla got an invite through her colleague to attend one of the Blackwoods Arts exhibition days. She stumbled upon Grey and found him charming due to his elegant style and appearance.

That spark which ignited in her vanished the moment she successfully engaged in a conversation with him. He sounded demeaning, belittling Lyla and most women. She found him arrogant and someone who lacked courtesy.

She felt disgusted at his kind of mindset and intentionally spilled a drink on him. An act which sent her out of the event.

"Or you're waiting for me to get closer so you could spill it on me again," Grey added.

Lyla's gaze shifted to him. She had absolutely nothing to say to him. Even if she did, she was sure they would feel like the perch of a fly on the skin to him. He didn't care about other people's opinions.

She scoffed and returned her gaze to get coffee. Just as she was about to grab it, Gray walked up to her and pushed it aside. He used his index to kick her face up from her jaw.

"Don't give me that look like I'm the reason this is happening or I have a hand in it. If I wanted a wife, I would gladly pick one from my father's pen"

Lyla's fist clenched immediately and she impulsively banged them on the table. What did he mean? Her blood boiled underneath her skin. She could feel the steam emitting from her pores and she glared into his eyes.

Grey inched closer, till he could feel her breath on his nose. A slow smile tore through his face. "What now, huh?" he whispered.

She really could do nothing. She just stood there, glancing into his ash eyes which glinted with satisfaction. She felt the glaring eyes of those around weigh down on her.

"Lyla, get yourself together," Mr. Thompson said as he walked to her. He grabbed her wrist and leaned closer. "Remember, you're not doing this for me, or you, but for the family. We need this" he muttered.

Grey scoffed, eyes still fixed on Lyla's. "Of course you do," he said. Lyla couldn't hold the tears back anymore. She let them stream down her cheek in broken lines. Grey pulled away from her breath which was fanning against his nose.

He grabbed his phone and headed for the door. He stopped as he got to Lyla's standing position, their shoulders brushing against each other. He inched closer to her ear. "See you soon - bride" he whispered and stormed out.

Lyla's knees went jelly, throwing her to the floor. She buries her head in her palms, her sobs dancing around the room in echoes. Mr. Thompson knelt beside her and pulled her into his arms.

"It's okay love. We've all got you. We've got you" he consoled as he gently stroked her hair.

______

For the first time in twenty-two years of her life on Earth, Lyla felt seen. The eyes of everyone sitting in the hall, waiting for her response to the priest made her think of herself as a messenger from the sky.

The entire preparation for the wedding was made easy as her in-laws made every process smooth. She found herself rethinking the possible positive outcomes of accepting to marry the Billionaire's son.

She would be able to pay her mother's hospital bills. That would prevent her from losing another loved one. She would also be able to have her own set gallery, where she would exhibit her beautiful works.

Amongst them all, she would finally live that luxurious life of her dreams she felt she belonged to. All these thoughts ran through her mind while she was being escorted down the aisle.

All she had to do was say yes. Yes to a man whom she despises. Yes to a man who hates her as well. She found herself contemplating her choices in her mind as she stared at the rings in the box before them.

"Miss Lyla" the officiating priest pulled her attention in with a whisper. Her gaze went into the crowd. The large population of the most influential people gathered in one room to watch a girl get sold off like mere goods.

Her eyes locked into those of her father's. He let s gentle smile engulf his face.

Never! Never was she going to let him ruin her dreams and happiness by entangling her to this man. She was going to end this drama once and for all.

Her eyes shifted to the lady sitting beside her dad. It was her sick mother. Her heart melted seeing her mother sitting with a drip stand by her side. She had gone through a lot of suffering.

"Miss Lyla, do you –"

"I do," she answered immediately, interrupting the priest. She thought she saw a smile on Grey's face. Instead of kissing her, he drifted his head to her ear.

"Welcome home, wife" he whispered with so much delight.

His words sank into her ears, realization dawning on her.

Thoughts filled her head that instant. Grey pulled her into a very short kiss and pulled her away.

The crowd stroked their cutleries against their glass cups, cheering the newlywed.

The lights from the paparazzi flashed into her eyes. She shielded her eyes with her hands but Grey took them off.

"Oh don't hide love. Let the world know who the gold digger is" he muttered, smiling at the cameras. "Now smile" he added with his widely curled lips.

What had she done? What had they made her do?

Could she rewind the ticking time to give a different answer?

She needed to think fast about the next line of action.

Never was she going to settle with him.

Chapter 3

Lyla stared at her reflection in the mirror. Who would have believed she was going to be the wife of a billionaire? She was thinking out plans on how to peacefully cohabit with Grey. Deep down, she believed he was all acting tough.

She took a deep breath, clutching her stomach which was still bubbling from the food they ate the previous night. She wasn't used to them and no one warned her not to eat much of it.

She heard a soft knock on the door.

"Yes?" she said softly.

The door squeaked open and a lady walked in. She had a black gown with a white apron on.

"Hello, good morning," Lyla greeted.

"Good Morning Mrs. Blackwood. It's time to have your bath" she courted.

First of all, Mrs. Blackwood? A little smile crosses her lips. "Please, I'd prefer Lyla"

"Sorry, but that's how we're instructed to address every relation to the Blackwoods," the last reply, head still buried.

Lyla made a nod of acceptance. "What's your name?"

"Janet, ma'am,m," she responded sharply.

"Okay, Janet. I can have my bath myself. You won't need to stress yourself" she said.

In movies, Lyla knows they usually insist. But with the way Janet bowed and turned to leave, she knew the servants were instructed to do as they were told and the choices made by the billionaires.

"Janet", Lyla called her back. Janet turned around and genuflected. "Have you seen my husband this morning"

She noticed the disturbed look on Janet's face. Like she was searching for words. "Janet?"

"Urm.. Mr. Blackwood is indisposed" Janet managed to mutter with a stuttering voice.

'Indisposed? But he barely drank. It took anything last night,' Lyla thought.

They had returned late from the wedding after party last night and Grey barely had the strength to show her to her room. He was on his cigarette all night, meeting with unfamiliar faces who were big names in the city.

Lyla's gaze drifted to the vintage clock by the bedstand. It was about ten in the morning. And he was still indisposed? "Take me to his room, Janet," she instructed. Janet's gaze shifted to the floor.

"I'm sorry Mrs. Blackwood but he doesn't let people come close"

"I am his wife. Take me - to his room!" She ordered with a more commanding tone this time. She knew Janet would do it, seeing the way she trembled. She didn't like that version of herself, but she needed it now.

She zipped up her gown and led the way, letting Janet mutter the direction as she followed behind. She noticed she didn't want to do it.

Grey's room wasn't so distant from hers. She got to the door and waited. "Thank you" she appreciated, watching as the poor lady fought with her balance as she walked away.

Lyla pushed the door open and froze instantly. Her jaw almost dropped to the floor.

Grey zipped up his trousers and kissed the forehead of the girl lying naked in his bed. "Wait here, love," he whispered into her ear.

He walked up to Lyla and obstructed her from looking at who it was. "What do you want? It's early" he blurted.

He wasn't concerned. He didn't seem to care how Lyla felt stabbed in the chest. Lyla took slow steps back, his words hitting her like a punch in the gut. She couldn't believe he felt unbothered.

"Did you just say it's early?" She asked. "Grey, we just got married. And the following morning you have another lady in your bed?*

"Oh.. nah..she came in last night" Grey corrected. He scoffed and inched closer to her. "I owe you nothing, Lyla. Now please leave and don't bother me till I ask for your presence" he chided her shoulder and slammed the door against her.

Lyla couldn't explain where her hurt was coming from. He was right. He owed her nothing. Then why did she feel hurt seeing him with another lady?

Or was it just the emotions from the week weighing her down?

She wiped the tears that streamed down her eyes, hurrying back to her room. She slammed the door and crashed into the cushion. She let out a scream, which got clouded by the cushion.

A knock came on her door again and it opened gently. It was Janet. "I'm sorry you had to see that" she apologized. "That was-"

"It's okay Janet. I'm fine. It's nothing" she tried composing herself. "Yes?"

"Mr. Blackwood wants you in the gallery"

In their mansion, Grey's father built a mini gallery where he would store his abandoned artworks. After he moved out, he left Grey the keys. Grey barely made use of it as he was no artist himself.

"Why?" Lyla asked. "Sorry, I asked. I'll be there immediately" she excused Janet.

______

Grey stood at the end of the wall, staring into a large portrait visible enough to anyone who walked into the room. He sipped from his glass of wine and turned to her.

"Rumors have it that your hands are blessed with the ability to bring art to life with paintings," he said, walking towards Lyla.

They were surrounded by several paintings from different artists. Amongst them, were those of Lyla.

Mr.Thompson had asked her paintings be carried alongside her belongings to the Blackwoods mansion.

Mr. Blackwood was a chronic art lover. He let her paintings stay in the gallery. Lyla was unaware that her paintings were brought to the house.

She glanced at them, lost in their beauty, the scent of the flower paints. She could smell the fragrance eluding them. She stood there totally out of words.

"How true?"

"I don't paint anymore," she said.

Grey smiled at her. He noticed her legs tremble as he walked up to her. "Janet!" he called.

Janet hurried into the room like she'd been standing at the door, waiting for his call. He stretched his hands and she placed a black purse in it. He unzipped it and poured out its contents.

Brushes. Lots of them. They clattered on the floor before Lyla's feet. He tossed the bag and took a few steps back. "Take off your clothes, Janet," he instructed.

Now this shot Lyla's head from the floor. She stole a glance at him, before looking at Janet in disbelief. Was she going to do it?

Janet's fingers trembled as they fought with the buttons of her black gown. Lyla could see the fear and tension in her eyes. "Grey, what's this?"

"I've stared at your art Lyla," Grey started, shifting his gaze away from her. His eyes traveled around the room, pinpointing every one of her artworks. "They lack life, they lack desire. That passion"

"Janet put your clothes back on '' Lyla thought she could counter his instructions. But jabet wasn't listening. She was halfway done with the buttons and was pulling the sleeves down. "Grey, please tell her to stop"

"It's all empty. Zero affections. No love" he turned back to her with a smile of satisfaction. "You know what I believe Lyla? I believe nudity - is art" he ended. Janet was about to pull off her gown when Lyla hurried to her and held it up.

"I'll strip. Okay. I'll do it. But please let her go," he offered.

Grey's smile grew wider as he placed his cup on the table beside him. His hands traveled to his buttons. He unbuttoned his shirt, took off his belt, and let his pants fall, revealing his white underwear.

"You don't understand do you?" He placed his thumbs on its elastic, biting his lower lip.

For a second, Lyla felt her selfless thoughts get interrupted by the heat his body was emitting. He was so hot. But that wasn't her focus at the time.

"The thing is - I'd love to be painted as well. Nude'' he said and slowly took down his underwear. Lyla's mouth dropped.

She was lost in time, only getting herself the moment Janet joined Grey in the cubed stand. She watched as he lay on his sides, supporting his head with his palm and his elbow properly balanced on the stand.

"I've got work, Lyla. Be quick," he muttered with a husky voice.

If this was a nightmare, she didn't want to wake up.