The Devilish Billionaire's Bride

Clara POV

My annoying alarm blared at 4 AM, abruptly ending my deep sleep. Fumbling to turn it off, I accidentally knocked it off the bedside table. Despite being an early riser for my passion-driven work, recent stress has been getting me down lately. I got up still feeling kinda sleepy and tired, I turned on some music, and went through my morning playlist while humming a song. As a small cafe owner and chef, I tried to spice up my appearance in a pink maxi dress and a bandanna. Despite my best effort to look happy, the sadness in my eyes betrayed my smile, a feeling I feared customers would pick up on throughout the day. I was sad because I had been given an unexpected and unpleasant news that I was going to marry my dad rival son so that their companies could merge.

I am not a merchandise, I said out loud in annoyance to the empty room.

The amount I am getting from my cafe's profit is enough for me. And yet, I, Clara Kingston, have agreed to marry my father's future business partner's son, Bryce Jefferson. I have never met him in person, but did my fair share of research on him. He is quite attractive, and that's the only positive thing I could find in the articles written about him. For a while, I couldn't take my eyes off of my laptop screen. When I finally did, I came to the conclusion that he was everything a girl's parents dread about. The pictures I found on the internet are from several parties where he is posing with a different girl every time. No parent in their right mind would want their daughter to be even friends with him, let alone dating. And here my parents are going, head over heels, for our marriage. Why wouldn't they? After all, this business merger/arrange marriage would provide them with profit. Both families will finally reach their billionaire titles. Who cares if it means putting my future on the line. I maybe nothing in their eyes, but I respect myself enough that I won't allow my future husband or his family to look down upon me.

I got the news about the marriage about four days ago when my mom called me while i was in my cafe with my best friend and assistant, Allison. When i saw the call, I was going to say something silly but my lips sealed as I saw the caller ID. I couldn't really believe my eyes, I thought it was a mistake from her so I ignored the call at first. When it rang again, my face fell and Allison stiffened beside me looking at the caller's ID. Hesitantly, I receive the call.

"Hello." I said already dreading whatever she was going to say.

"Hello Clara, Good Morning. How are you my child" Mother greets me. All the red flags hoisted around me because my mother's nasal voice has a comfortable calm today. Something really fishy is going to happen I could already feel it in my bones. Because it isn't often when Vivian Kingston bothers to call me or is awake at 8 in the morning.

"I am fine, mother. How are you doing? I haven't seen you in a while." I answer dreadfully while also motioning Allison to go ahead so as to be able to talk to her in private, however knowing how well I dreaded talking to my mother, she stayed with me for some kind of emotional support.

"Yes, daughter. 6 months to be exact..." She says. And now I am concerned. Stopping what I'm doing and I glance at Allison. She shook her head while giving me her best intimidating glare. When I did not answer, my mother continued. "...I was hoping we could meet. Will this evening be good for you? We can go to dinner together" Her voice may indicate that she is asking me. But I have spent enough time with her to know that she is just summoning me. Like she always does.

"Okay, mother. I will call you then." I agree quickly. Allison's shoulder sagged dramatically, she then gave me a sad smile, knowing full well that she will be in charge of everything in the cafe today.

I spent my day pacing back and forth in the kitchen and messing up all the customer's orders before Allison finally kicked me out to go meet my mother. But leaving me alone with my thoughts is never a good idea as I overthink easily. I let all the possibilities wash over me.

What could it be.? I muttered to myself

What could be so important that my mom who we haven't spoken or seen in six months suddenly wants to see. The last I've met her was around 6 months ago. When she came to order me to bake for her kitty party.

For our meeting today, she had chosen one of the finest restaurants in Manhattan. My mother arrived quite late, just when I was relieved that she was not going to show up. The temperature went down like in the horror movies.

Dear mother is here. I scream "fuck" in my head.

I stand up smoothing my clothes, a full-sleeved dress that ends just above my knees pairing it with the best knee-high boots I own. Mother hates my maxi dresses more than she hates me. My lips twitched in a smile at her approach. I am still appalled that she decided to bother to step inside the cafe today, instead of making me wait a block away from the cafe.

"Oh hello, Clara. How are you, my dear. Have you lost some weight darling? You have been eating well, right." Said Vivian Kingston in the fakest voice possible without taking a breath. It is like a rhetorical question for us. She doesn't wanna know if I'm starving myself to death. But she did eye my cake belly before I could suck in a breath to tuck it in.

"Hello, mother. How about we leave for dinner. Allison will look after here" I said.

Allison gave her a courteous smile but my mother rolled her eyes. For mother, Allison is just a waitress here, the girl from the other side of the tracks. I mouth 'I'm sorry' to her. And my darling Allison waived it off like was nothing. One day, she will get the respect she deserves from everyone.

--------------------

The restaurant looked no better than mine. Except for the starting price here is where mine ends. After giving our orders. It was finally time for her to tell me why we are here.

"Clara, We have arranged for your marriage. The wedding will take place in the next two weeks. I thought I should give you a heads up" Mother says in one go like she's reading a weather report.

My brows rose as I recall her words in my head. "A heads up...??? Mother, are you serious right now this is-"

"Keep your voice down, Clara" She whisper yelled at me looking around if anybody noticed us. And my body shook with fury, I hadn't raised my voice and even if I had it would be justified. Yet I took some deep inhales before speaking again.

"Mother, this is my life we are talking about. You cannot just tie me up with a stranger and show up to give me a heads up, I will not allow that." I whisper yell back, matching her tone from earlier.

"Enough with your drama, Clara, you are not a child. And just listen to me without interrupting, will you..." I nod stiffly, swallowing the saliva rising in my throat. "....His name is Bryce Jefferson, son of Chad Jefferson"

Chad Jefferson...? My lips parted in disbelief.

"I know what you're thinking. Yes, they're the same Jeffersons," she said, reaching over to place her hand on mine. To an onlooker, it might seem like a supportive gesture, but I felt the warning in her grip, urging me to stay put and listen.

"A few weeks ago, they proposed a merger. We were hesitant at first, but after some pondering, we agreed to merge our companies and, apparently, our families too. We initially wanted Maeve to marry Bryce, but they're both not interested in settling down. You're supposed to stay married for at least two years."

"So you sold me?" I almost screamed out in disbelief. I can't believe, they would do this to me. Tears threatened to surface but I tired my utmost best to hold them down. She has never shown me an ounce of love. If I create a scene now, she will rush out like she doesn't even know me.

"Shut up, Clara." She hissed at me, tightening her grip on my hand.

"You are hurting me mother" I said in pains.

"How dare you talk to me like this after everything your father and I have done for you. And this is not just for our benefit. It's for yours as well. We've convinced your café's partner to sell his share, but he's asking for a huge sum of money. If you say yes, we'll buy the café for you, and you'll be the sole owner like you've always wanted. Think about it, Clara," she speaks through gritted teeth.

When the waiter brings our food, she dives in like she hasn't just flipped my life upside down. Avoiding the food, I weigh her offer. What she's saying is right but cruel. My family is dangling the thing I want most in front of me – sole ownership of my café. If I agree, I'll never have to split my profits again. I can pay Allison well, hire new staff, and it's a golden opportunity I can't let slip.

"Okay, Mother, I'll do it. But I have my conditions. I want my café's ownership handed to me before the wedding, and there are some things I want to discuss with Bryce first," I say, not recognizing my own voice. Maybe this is what it feels like to do something immoral. My own soul seems to be distancing itself from me. She looked a little thoughtful for a moment before she nodded her head as if coming to a decision. "Don't worry about that. Bryce will come to meet you tomorrow. And one more thing, this shall not be discussed any further. The wedding will take place in two weeks and no one is supposed to utter a word about the contract, starting now. Because once the news of wedding is out. The media will be keeping a close eye on us. We cannot risk the news getting out in public. Do you have any other questions" She asked, dabbing the corner of her mouth with a napkin.

"No, mother." I answer distantly, taking my purse to leave. My appetite is long gone now.

"Great" She answers with a smile, overlooking my state. "So he will meet you at your café tomorrow. Make sure you clear all your doubts because they must not be discussed again. Am I clear???" She warned.

"Yes, Mother." I said without any emotion.

After the dinner with my mother, I had to hail a cab as my mother left me standing there dumbfounded. At least our driver had the heart to call a cab for me so I didn't have to wait for long. When I reached back to the cafe It was already closed, only the small porch light glowed in the dark so I just went to sleep, dreading seeing Bryce the next day

Bryce POV

I drum my fingers on the steering, this place makes me want to turn back to civilization with every passing mile. The further I go, the gloomier and scarier my surroundings become. The cafe's address had me expecting a spot in the heart of Brooklyn, but to my utmost dismay, it's a solid two-hour drive from home to the middle of nowhere. My GPS insists I still have an hour left before I reach the elusive Timbuktu, where my future wife calls home. Just one more hour until I meet the soon-to-be Mrs. Jefferson.

When I got finally got to the cafe, I stepped out of my black Lamborghini Gallardo, buttoning up the jacket of my three-piece Italian suit, ignoring the curious stares of people. I bet they are mentally battling themselves thinking where they have seen me before. Well, guilty as charged I do look like a celebrity. Call me a narcissist, but this egoistic pig is now standing in front of the cafe of a bigger narcissist. Clara Kingston named her cafe 'Clara' after herself, maybe we'll get together well.

As I was scanning my surroundings, a voice catches my attention.

"That voice must belong to an angel" I thought to myself.

Intrigued by the voice I turned my head towards to direction the voice was coming from. I found the owner of the voice standing behind the glass display counter, chatting up with an old peer.

"Damn... she's beautiful" I muttered out loudly.

"Well, Mr. Kent. I think it's time you step up your flirting game. Mr. Landon was here yesterday, and he told me he can also drive at night." She spoke to the man.

"Bullshit, that scoundrel is lying to impress you so he could get into your pantry." The supposed Mr. Finely said, adjusting his suspenders.

"Aren't you here for the same thing." The beautiful angel said. The smile on her face never going down.

My eavesdropping disrupted when a girl with bangs barred my view. I was not the man to be rude to a waiting staff. So I quickly told her that I would like to have today's special. Or it was some girl asking me for my number and I totally quashed her confidence level mistaking her to be a waitress. But she left quickly and it's all that matters.

"I was specifically instructed by both of your wives that I should, not in any occasion give you any kind of sweet dishes, Now be a good grandpa and accept these sugar-free treats I baked specifically for you." The angel said.

"You're not playing fair Clara, you know-"

Wait.... what? Did he just say, Clara.? I cannot believe my eyes, those pictures didn't do any justice to her beauty. She has beautiful eyes, I can't make the color from distance. Her cute button nose scrunched and those luscious lips pouted as she spoke something to him. I couldn't hear anything around me, it felt only she and belonged at this moment. When shook her head a little her face-framing tendrils bounced, accentuating her facial features.

When the old man left and another customer came in front of her. I came back to my senses. I needed to get a grip. I'm here to make a deal. What deal exactly...? Shit. I hope I had it written somewhere. Maybe I should head back, clear my head and then come back. I'm a busy man after all. She'll totally buy it. Before I could move, she noticed me. Like the perfect owner sensing a customer leaving without buying anything.

Those beautiful green eyes watching me now, are like a window to her soul. I can read her like an open book. There was a hint of confusion in them, then recognition, then admiration, and then, it went blank. It happened so quickly, I doubt if I had imagined it. Really now.? I underestimated her prowess. After all, she is a Kingston. There is nothing remotely innocent about either of us. She rounded the rows of glass counters not breaking eye contact. I sat straight meeting her eyes with a challenge.

"You're Bryce Jefferson, right?" She questions in a clipped tone.

I was a little taken aback. She didn't even try to pretend, she didn't know me. It hurt my ego a bit because she did not follow my script of first behaving to be oblivious. Before she could say anything else the lady with the bangs came out holding my order, with another behind her. I gaped as I realized it was all meant for me. Clara gave the bang girl a scathing look.

The bang girl's flawless tanned skin shone brighter when she smiled at me as she spoke in a made-up soothing voice. "Everything we have on today's special, Sirrrr...." She sang the last word like she was a child.

She did it on purpose. The poor girl behind her was still unsure, so I gave her a polite smile. She blushed crimson and ran inside. So these two are the only ones immune to my charm.

When I glance up Clara was glaring at me with a murderous look, while the other one was smiling as if she has poisoned it.

"I'll be back in a minute." The coldness in Clara's voice wouldn't have struck me I hadn't heard her conversation with the elderly man earlier.

I found myself giving her a slight nod as she grabbed the bangs by her elbow and practically dragged her to the kitchen. I released a breath I didn't know I had been holding when the door closed behind her. Taking the much-needed air I hope she'll take longer. It will give me plenty of time to prepare myself.

"Bryce Jefferson, time to show her the real unfiltered you" I resolved within myself

CLARA POV

It has been three days since my mother told me about my marriage to Bryce, my mother had told me that Bryce would show up at my cafe the next day, however, Bryce still hasn't shown up.

"What does he think of himself " I said with an ounce of annoyance.

That narcissist must be enjoying it. Maybe he is secretly watching me from somewhere.

"What a creep" I muttered to myself

I haven't even met him, but he's already under my skin. The first day he didn't show up, instead of relief, I felt rejected. The second day, my call to Mom went unanswered as usual. This morning, I vowed not to let negative thoughts affect me. Whether he shows up or not, I don't care. Allison's right; Bryce sees me as a naive girl thrilled to marry Manhattan's most eligible bachelor. If he bothers to come, he'll witness my fierce side.

The universe made up for the past three days when my favorite regular, Mr. Kent, showed up. At 65 (though he insists he's 59 for two years), he looks 50 (not that I'd tell him). His wife, Victoria, a retired doctor battling cancer, strictly told me not to spoil him once she's gone. The Kent are the strongest people I know, and interacting with them brightens my day.

While chatting, I sensed someone staring at me. A man caught my peripheral vision, his intense gaze stirring warmth in me. When I finally looked up, I realized it was Bryce Jefferson.

What a stunning presence. I said while biting my lips

Immediately i realized that i was impressed by him I scolded myself mentally. He bailed on me for three days. Time to get a grip and stop girl-crushing on this bad boy.

"You're Bryce Jefferson, Right.?" It was the most obvious thing to say but I got the feeling that this loser wasn't expecting it. But seriously, does he not know he is quite famous or maybe he thinks I live in a cave.

Before I could embarrass myself any further, Allison came with today's special which apparently he had ordered, after she laid it down on his table, i quickly gripped her by the arm and I drag her to the kitchen, assuring Bryce that I'll be back.

I struggle with interacting with men, especially intimidating ones, thanks to my all-girls boarding school education. Allison, who went to a public school with variety of men can help me out in this situation. Once I get some advice, I'll show him the real me.

CLARA POV

"What was that, Allison?" I whisper-yell as the door closes.

"That's the question I should ask you. You can't release your frustration on him"

"If not him, then who? My mother, who isn't even bothered to answer my calls? And let's not forget he's late, he's the one who bailed on me, and here you are off-"

"No... No... NO. Is that handsome young man the Bryce Jefferson?" She gasps, her eyes wide.

"Don't use 'The' before his name; he's not royalty. And you've seen his pictures. He looks just like them, maybe even more hand- Nope." Shaking off thoughts of his hazel eyes and perfectly swept-back dark hair, I notice Allison's guilty expression. Arms crossed, I give her a warning look.

"Wait a minute Allison, why did bring all that food" I asked after remembering the large volume of food she had dropped on his table before I dragged her here.

"He ordered them," she shrieked defensively, a sign that she was up to no good, a common occurrence with Allison. I raise a suspicious brow, but she meets my gaze defiantly.

"He looked taken aback as if he'd never seen pasta before," I snide, gritting my teeth.

"Taking sides with the dear future husband, are we?"

"Definitely not, but explain to me what happened" I said in a calm voice

"Okay, fine. When I took his order, he was looking at you like he'd never seen a woman before. So I suggested if he wanted to try today's special, and he agreed. When I asked which one exactly, he didn't answer. So I asked if I should bring all of them, and he said yes. So it's not my fault," she explains in one breath.

"You tricked him into ordering them, then," I said eyeing her with a little bit of anger and awe.

"I don't mix business with pleasure, no matter how handsome the man is. And it was dubious if anything. So don't look at me like I'm a con man tricking handsome-"

"Are you going to stop gushing over his looks now? What if he doesn't pay for it? My mother sent him here; she must have told him to come empty-bellied and take whatever he wants because it will be a family affair from now on."

"Is that what you're worried about?"

"Among other things," I shrug, and she rolls her eyes in disbelief.

"He looks like someone who can pay for his own food without batting an eyelid. He's from Manhattan, he must be used to overpriced coffee. We charge nothing in comparison."

"You're right," I nod in agreement. "I'll hand him the check; he'll take the hint."

"What? No. That's not what I meant."

But I'm already heading for the door. "And he also matched your description of that shady man from all those months ago. That's why I did it."

"Shut up, Allison. Now you're just lying." I cut her off.

"Umm... And you can't go like that. Let me do some touch ups."

"I'm a strong, confident woman. I don't need war paint to get a man to submit, besides, he has already seen me, as such he'll notice.I am not going to let him think I'm making an effort to impress him."

"Never!!!!"

"Yeah, yeah. I get it, now go," Allison said, giving me a hug before returning to her orders.

With Bryce's check in my hand, armed with newfound ego and an established attitude, I'm ready to face him again. Approaching his table, he looks like a man ready to discuss business. Handing him the check, he seems a bit taken aback, but he bows his head slightly in acknowledgment. Allison appears out of nowhere, grabs the bills from his neatly stacked leather wallet with a gold clip, blushes on purpose to tease me, and thanks him for the generous tip, using his name.

I had introduced Allison to him. He doesn't deserve this, but Allison sure did. Bryce had a small talk with her and very politely asked her to pack the rest of the desserts to go and I knew then that he has won her over. There were a few people watching us from the corner of their eyes but they were out of earshot. If he wants to play nice, so can I.

"Sorry. It took so long we had some tiny emergency." I smile. Damn me and my manners. It was the first thing that came to my mind. I could have simply said he smells like a rotten pig, with a smile on my face. And why am I apologizing? He took 3 days to show up and also it's not an emergency if it's tiny.

""No, I understand. Work comes first." He said with a calm tone.

Again with the politeness, the sexy voice, and that easy smile. I almost melted, but when I repeated his words in my head to make sense of them for a proper response, I apprehended what he had just said. He understands? Is he for real? It was his turn to apologize for bailing on me. My fury spiked, and the fake smile dropped from my face as I speak.

"How about we take this outside..." I say snidely.

His expression changes like I was actually initiating a fistfight in the alley. But I meant that I really wanted to beat the narcissistic jerk out of him.

"I mean my apartment. I live above the cafe. There are too many people here. Neither of us will be comfortable," I scrunch my nose apologetically, giving him a sweet smile.

"Sure," he says with an uncomfortable laugh at his stupidity for taking me in the wrong way. He surveys the other tables as he stands, and my naive customers shift in their chairs, creating a loud shuffling sound.

Bryce appears a bit nervous at their act, looking around for some sort of help.

"No one is coming for you, baby." I muttered.

Bryce POV

Clara pulled her friend inside, giving me time to pull myself together. The food tasted heavenly, taking up my time when I should actually be forming a new strategy. The pasta was so good I wolfed it down, my lost appetite from last night coming back. Biting into the cannoli, the waitress packed the cake in a box that I mistook for a wooden log. It looked natural with small wild leaves growing out and tiny mushrooms. Maybe this Kingston isn't so talentless like the rest of her family.

Putting that aside, I can't let her have the upper hand. When she came back, she looked both beautiful and confident, just how I want my girl to be, a fatal combination. Handing me the check was the right thing to do, I needed to pay for the food. But for her, it seemed like a power play.

When I opened the door for her, she tensed for a bit, as if she isn't used to the small gesture. That formed an uneasy feeling inside me. I met her gaze closely, getting the chance to look into her eyes. Those green orbs shined bright in the sunshine, like a dark green forest under the sunlight. She broke the contact and headed for the stairs, leaving me no option but to follow her like a lost puppy. It's not the time to act like a fool and gush over those lips I would love to devour and the hair I want to wrap around my fingers.

As I descended the flight stairs to look over the neighborhood my muscles tensed in fear, picturing it at night. It must get deserted. The store to the cafe's left that shares the same wall was closed. And judging by the rows of cars and extended establishment for cafe, nobody uses it. The same situation was for another establishment around. The one on the opposite side of the road is a big, garage. Thankfully only the door is halfway open as the front faces the opposite direction. Other shops around also looked closed, and heavily locked as though they were used only for storage purposes.

Not at all an ideal place for a girl to live alone or even run this cafe at night, as I know it closes around 9 PM. I have heard about this neighborhood, It was not used to be clean a decade ago. Motorcycle gangs, drugs, underground clubs, you name it.

When Clara was about to open the door, I mentally prepared myself to give her an earful and literally shake some sense into her, If she had taken the key from under the doormat or a flowerpot with dead plants. I have zero tolerance for stupidity. But thankfully, she is better than that.

She only opened one of the two doors and I had to move sideways to get inside the wonderland. Her apartment is beautiful, I never thought I would like such a tiny place. She has almost everything in here. The quarter of the room is taken up by cartons of food supplies I reckon is meant for the cafe supplies. The rest of the apartment is neat, clean, and organized. Her place reflects exactly what I expect my house help to do for me because I'm a disorganized pig. The decorations are remnants from her cafe, providing a nice cozy vibe. She's smart, and now I have no doubt she's behind the envision. An interior decorator might fail to give this sort of touch. She's talented. Speaking of, she's already looking at me, and she doesn't look happy. But I have to pretend to be unaffected.

"Your place..." I trail, looking around. "It's pretty and well organized," I say after clearing my throat.

After a bit, she responded. "Thank you. Would you like to have some coffee?" It was not a question as she turns around to work on the kettle. I sneak a look around and find a small kitchen behind the boxes of baking supplies.

I quickly dart my gaze from her back when she turns around and pretend to be lost on my phone. We take a few sips in silence, my fingers closed around the cup tightly. When she clears her throat, I peer at her, taking a long slurp, the coffee mug hiding half of my face. She places her coffee mug over the small table, and I mimic the gesture.

"Soo.. About the wedding," she trails off, raising her brows, expecting me to initiate the topic.

I am royally screwed.