The Dumbest Man Ever

What could I expect from a fake marriage? Was it likely to turn real out of habit when John and I had never once spent quality time talking about us without the frills of deals, Hell, Jenna, and other business-related stuff?

Never. Even though every once in a while, I'd imagine John would change his mind, by some miracle from nowhere, and change his plans to no longer be for Hell. But that would never happen.

We were already on the private jet Jenna and Blake had prepared for us—John, me, and a couple of other passengers that Jenna had never told me about. I never wanted to know because once on the plane, my stomach was filled to the brim with butterflies—there was only one room for a couple, which meant John and I were in the same room.

Here we were, silent and lost in our busy lives, which, of course, only applied to John. He never seemed to notice me in this room, as his focus was only on his cell phone. I hadn't moved since earlier because I felt awkward around this man.

However, that was just my feeling. John, as I said, didn't think I existed.

"Have you been to Venice before?" I asked, trying to break the ice. I was tired of just standing around without talking about random things.

He didn't have to pay attention to me if he didn't want to. After all, from the beginning, I realized he would never have feelings for me. If anything, it would only be a momentary lust. A man who likes to change partners like him would certainly not be satisfied with just one woman, especially without a clear relationship.

John didn't answer immediately but only turned his head for a few moments. He put down his cell phone and turned his body to face me.

"Several times," he replied briefly. However, he no longer had his back to me but remained where he was.

"Must be for business," I guessed knowingly. He shook his head. Although convinced, I was reluctant to mention Hell's name in this conversation. He must have gone with that bitch to Venice. "So?"

"Seriously, you don't know? As a wife, you should know the ins and outs of your husband."

"You never said anything. I feel like I have no right to ask," I replied, feeling that his mentioning our relationship in this conversation might have broken the ice.

"My mom and dad are from here."

I was wide-eyed in disbelief. I should have guessed where he got those gorgeous hazel eyes, the distinctive chiseled jaw and chin and the thick eyebrows framing his hawk-eyed gaze. A Latina, of course.

He seemed to smile proudly at the expression I couldn't hide; then, for a moment, both cheeks seemed to be tinged red as he had just downed some alcohol.

Oh, for the sake of any God with a beautiful face, look at this beautiful creature. He captured my heart ever since we first met. Although it started out as admiration, it turned into disgust because he was the dumbest guy ever. I couldn't deny that, physically, John was no match for me.

"Look, drool is starting to drip from your lips, which have been gaping since before," he said with a chuckle. "Do you admire me that much to be so dumbfounded when you find out I'm from Venice?"

I shook my head as I laughed. "You're too confident. It's only natural that I'd be surprised. You know, my circle consists mostly of people from Eastonville or Westmont. So it's quite astonishing that you're from abroad."

He laughed again. Oh, I loved his laugh. I didn't know when, but I loved everything he did except for one thing: his stupidity in love, which wasn't directed at me.

"Alright, I think that's enough insight into me for today. I have something to do. You get some rest because it will take us a while to get to Venice." John looked at the object on his wrist before getting up and leaving me with a hollow sigh.

Furthermore, he didn't return until nightfall and almost dawn. I couldn't help but be curious, so I left the room and searched our seat. I didn't find him until I came across another half-open room.

I should have never stepped out of my room so I wouldn't have to witness this. Not directly, but seeing John and a woman lie down with nothing but a blanket covering their bodies made my heart stop beating.

It had looked like this from the start, so what did you expect, Clara?

***

We arrived at the presidential suite and put our luggage down to rest for a while. What happened on the plane was such a shock that I didn't know how to act in front of John. He didn't realize I had seen everything, so he remained calm as if nothing had happened.

He has always been like that. It was impossible to feel guilty because Hell wasn't a mistake for him.

"Tell me you're uncomfortable if we're in the same room. I'll book another room for you," he said, which sounded to me like an excuse, so I chose to leave the room and find my own place since he was going to use this room for himself and his whore.

I shook my head and tried to stay calm despite my chest rumbling. I always avoided looking at him, and he seemed to realize that.

"This suite has many rooms. There's a living room, a bedroom, a kitchen; please choose where you and Hell will fuck; I'll be in the other room," I replied, which made him frown with a displeased look on his face. "Don't feel bad. You can move to her room if you want."

"What do you mean?"

"My point is clear, John. It's agreed that our life is for the sake of you and Hellen's relationship, right? I have no right to be angry or upset, but when it comes to convenience, you should be the one to get out of this room. Remember, Jenna took care of all the accommodations to ensure I was comfortable. You're not some poor guy who doesn't have enough money to rent just one room so you can fuck your whore every day and–"

My sentence was cut short because before I could finish, John's sturdy fingers had already gripped my jaw firmly and pinned me against the wall. His gaze was fixed on me, who was honestly still in shock over his spontaneous behavior.

I was sure Jenna invited Doctor Karl, but the slut didn't tell him so that she and John could be free to be alone together.

"Don't ever call her that rude, Clara. You're no better than her."

"At least I didn't betray my husband."

"But you betrayed your best friend. What's the difference?"

That sentence felt so harsh. He was right. I did betray Jenna, but that was then. Now, I didn't want anything. I just wanted to live in peace. If John only wanted me as a tool, that was fine. He was free to let me go after he got everything he wanted.

John released his grip and adjusted his clothes. Without looking at me, he turned his body, and for the rest of the time, I had no idea what he was doing.

This was not what I wanted. I was probably just a naive girl with high hopes for something clearly false. Now, breaking free seemed impossible. John had my ace up his sleeve, and I wasn't prepared for all his threats.

"Don't even think I expected much from this relationship after that night, Clara. You know that no one else can get my attention other than Hellen. So our kiss that night was nothing for me."

I knew it. That was why I no longer responded to his words and chose to keep myself busy until, for some reason, John came over to me and pinned me against the wall again.

"What's this again, John? Aren't your words clear? Then what else?" He didn't answer, but I could see that there was such an upset and mixed feeling raging in his chest that his jaw seemed to tighten, as did his squeeze on my body. "John, what are you doing? I can't breathe."

"You wanted this, didn't you? Don't always lie, Clara. I know you want me."

"No, John! You're wrong. Let me go!"

There was nothing else I could do when John's lips silenced me with a kiss that turned more intense within seconds. In the end, without me realizing it, he took me to the bed and the thing I had refused him happened, too.

I enjoyed John's rhythmic movements. It felt so damn good since I had forever not done this with any men, and it seemed he felt that too. What I feared would be him screaming Hell's name never happened. He did it as if we were a loving couple, except afterwards, where later the same day after he fucked me, I caught him fucking Hell on the bar table in our room.

John was a fucking dumb man! If you were me, what would you do?