8. Playing The Perfect Wife.

"She said yes!" Alaric announced, slipping the ring in her finger.

Nicolette exhaled, watching as Alaric's face lit up. She didn't need to know him well to realize he was putting on a show.

Alaric stood up and slid his hand around her waist. She stiffened, the contact sending an unexpected jolt through her.

"Smile," he ordered softly.

She turned to the cameras, biting her lip to stop the warmth from rising to her cheeks.

Too late.

She felt it creep up her neck.

"Flaunt your ring," Alaric whispered, his lip brushing her ear, making her gasp.

She blinked, emotions building up inside her as she lifted her left hand and revealed the ring.

The diamond was shiny, dreamy, and undoubtedly expensive as hell. For a brief moment, she got carried away, drawn in by its beauty.

"I would get you another one if you don't like it." Alaric's voice was sharp, like he was offended.

She turned to him, her cheeks still burning. "Oh, it…" she paused. If he thought he had failed in pleasing her, who was she to say otherwise. "Alright then."

He dropped his hand and it brushed her bottom. "Fine. Sorry it wasn't up to your taste milady, I'll have the kingdom search for the perfect rock for you."

Alaric was too offended to notice the other gasp that escaped her mouth when he touched her backside.

"The show is over. Thank you," he said, waving off the reporters.

Nicolette watched as everybody scrambled around. Some left the restaurant, others went for the proposal decorations and started pulling it apart.

She watched as her fairytale proposal was reduced back to a bare-looking inside of a restaurant.

"Are you going to move, or you'll just keep standing there?" Alaric asked, his tone filled with annoyance.

She cleared her throat and followed him to a small table in the corner of the room. He sat down without waiting for her, and brought out a blue file.

"Such a gentleman," she said sarcastically. "So nice of you pulling out a chair for me."

Alaric's forehead furrowed into a frown. "Well I'm not a maid. Besides, you're an independent woman, you can do your thing."

Nicolette scowled at him. "Pulling out a chair has nothing to do with independence, it's about manners," she hissed. "Which you clearly don't have."

"When I want to, I will," he countered. "Right now, nobody is watching."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Still a bad habit."

Alaric scoffed. "Always going to have the last words? Right? Fine." Then he pulled out some papers from the blue file. "The marriage contract, all ready before eight like you asked."

Nicolette's heart flipped with gratitude as she pulled the papers closer. Alaric had listened and had gotten it done.

What a softie.

Alaric's jaw tightened as he spoke. "Read through it, I am not crafting another if you make a mistake."

She wanted to argue with him, but she thought against it. 

She'd let him win this round.

She went through the files, her heart pounding with every line.

No intimacy.

No love.

One room, two beds.

Only a handful of people should know about the contract.

This was what she wanted. So why was she unsettled?

Then her eyes widened when she saw that he had paid all of her debts.

"What?" Alaric asked, leaning forward. For such an arrogant man, she was surprised to see concern on his face. "Is there a mistake?"

"No," she replied, shaking her head. "You… paid my debts."

"Well… I… yes," he stuttered and looked away. "Just go through it."

Nicolette sat back, staring at the papers. Her debts were gone. She was financially free at least for a year! And her heart flipped again when she saw the next line.

The sum of seven hundred fifty thousand dollars ($750,000) shall be paid monthly to the account designated by Ms. Nicolette Voss for a period of twelve (12) months.

Nicolette wanted to scream her lungs out, but definitely not under Alaric's scrutinizing eyes. Instead she swallowed her excitement and proceeded to the next line.

Yet, she couldn't control the thrill coursing inside her. 750K a month?! 

"What again?" Alaric asked, lifting a brow.

"Nothing," she whispered, shaking her head.

She couldn't tell him she was grateful for his generosity, no way she would boost his already inflated ego. Instead, she said, "I wasn't aware there was a monetary agreement to this."

Alaric leaned on his chair, a smirk on his lip. "I thought if you'll be abiding by my rules, I might as well pay you for it."

She wanted to snap at him for his rudeness, but she realized she actually needed the money and she couldn't let him change his mind. "Well, I didn't know you had a heart."

Alaric laughed. It was a deep, rich sound that sent chills down her spine. "Just go on."

Heat rose on her cheeks, but she obeyed without argument and continued reading. When she got to the end of the file, she huffed when she saw her full name on print.

"How did you know my full name?" she asked him as she signed.

"I know everything, sweetheart," he chuckled.

His statement affected her, but she refused to show it. "Good then," she said, pushing the file to him.

Alaric collected the pen and scrawled down his signature. "All done. You're now Mrs Nicolette Voss Allens for the next twelve months."

Her heart plummeted.

Nicolette Voss Allens.

The name had a nice—almost scary—ring to it.

Alaric leaned forward and she jumped at the sudden movement. "You look like you want to change your mind."

Unable to speak, she looked away.

"Well, you can't," he said, standing up. "Except you have twenty million dollars to pay for breach of agreement."

Shock surged through her and she sprang to her feet. "What?"

"Oh you didn't read that part?" Alaric chuckled again. "If you end the agreement before a year you'll pay me 20 million."

20 million?

Where the hell was she supposed to see that?

And then her eyes narrowed. What other ridiculous demand hadn't she seen in the contract?

"I would like a copy of that," she said, gesturing to the file on the table.

"You'll get it when copies have been made," Alaric responded, then he tilted his head. "Stelle?"

Nicolette watched as the softness in Alaric's eyes disappeared and was replaced with a serious, almost cold, almost businesslike, expression.

A young woman ran to them, from her body language, Nicolette could tell she was afraid of Alaric.

"Here sir," Stelle said with a wobbly voice.

"Take Cole's measurements and have—"

"Who the hell is Cole?" Nicolette demanded, interrupting him.

"You, sweetheart," Alaric said, the softness back in his eyes. "Nicolette, Nicole, Cole."

Nicolette scowled at him, folding her arms across her chest. "Any sane person would call me Lettie."

Stelle gasped.

Alaric stepped forward, his eyes dancing with amusement. "Well, you have your answer." Then he straightened up and turned to Stelle. "Take her measurements and send them to Étienne Roux."

"Yes sir," Stelle said.

Étienne Roux? The Étienne Roux? The top designer in the country?

Nicolette's heart flipped at the casualty in Alaric's voice. He just called Étienne Roux like they wine and dine together.

Oh, they probably do.

"You'll be having dinner with me at my parents house," Alaric told her. "I want you to look your best."

All her excitement died with those words and anger took over. "What is wrong with my dress?" She challenged him.

"Nothing. It's just…" He looked her over, his blue eyes sweeping over her body before settling on her chest, and lingered there for a moment.

For a second, something shone in his eyes before he looked away. 

Desire? Amusement? Mockery?

She didn't know, but a knot formed in her stomach. Still, she didn't give into the feeling. "Finish your statement."

"Nothing," he said, his lip curving into a smile. "I will come by Suzie's house by 8pm. Be ready." Then he turned and walked away.

Nicolette blinked. "Who's taking me back?"

"I am," Stelle replied quickly.

Nicolette observed the young lady and plastered a smile. "Cool."

"Shall… we?"

Nicolette sighed as she followed Stelle out of the restaurant and into a small car. She distracted herself by fidgeting with her ring until they arrived at Suzie's house. 

"I'll be back soon, ma'am," Stelle said, waving as Nicolette stepped out of the car.

Nicolette nodded and made her way inside Suzie's house.

"Mrs Allens!" Suzie shrieked when she entered.

"Oh please," Nicolette said, slumping into the couch. The reflection of her ring caught the light, forcing Suzie to run to her.

"Let me see that rock," Suzie said, pulling Nicolette's hand and admiring the ring. "This looks expensive!"

"I guess," she replied with a sigh.

"Congratulations my love," Suzie said, giving her a hug. 

"Thank you." It was a weak response.

"The Internet is going wild," Suzie said standing up.

Nicolette blinked. "The Internet?"

"Yup. It's all over the news," Suzie replied. "Mr Allens also talked about how he would rebuild your gallery. They are all calling him the perfect husband."

"Oh," Nicolette groaned.

She had expected the publicity; she just didn't think it would come this soon. She wanted to announce it at her own pace, her own—

She was interrupted by the knock on Suzie's door.

Suzie raised a brow. "Expecting somebody?"

"Yes," Nicolette replied flatly.

Suzie opened the door and Stelle entered with two boxes. She laid them on the floor and turned to Nicolette. "It's time, ma'am."

"Time for what?" Suzie asked.

"Time to play the perfect wife," Nicolette replied, standing up.

She took a shower and allowed Stelle to dress her up in an emerald green gown with matching diamond necklace and earrings.

Some minutes later, Alaric arrived at the door. Nicolette went to him and watched as a twinkle of surprise reached his eyes.

"How do I look?" she teased.

Instead of replying, Alaric just turned towards the car. "We don't have all day."

She chuckled as she followed him, knowing that she looked great. The ride was quick and quiet as before, but when they reached their destination, Nicolette gasped.

It was an exquisite mansion, looking luxurious in its lane.

She followed Alaric to the front door, but just as he was about to reach the knob, the grand doors opened.

A woman, tall and striking in a red gown, stepped out. Her eyes gleaming with pure disdain. "I don't want her here! She has to leave!"