Deal

ADRIAN'S P.O.V.

I stood, gazing out of the window in my hotel suite. The events of the past few hours of the day replayed in my mind, and with it came a seething anger that coursed through my veins and caused my fists to ball up.

How could one person, a mere woman at that, get the better of me?

I recalled the way in which she had insulted me and I could still feel the sting of the paper bills as they slapped against my skin.

How the hell had she dared to insult me in such a manner?

I hated the fact that she had gotten under my skin. I was not easily phased by anything or anyone, and I had never imagined that a mere woman would be able to annoy the hell out of me like that woman had.

What?

My performance in bed was unsatisfactory?

I had never received such a huge blow to my pride before, and the memory of the expression on her face when she had said that caused my ears to redden from fury. I could not even bear to digest the fact that a woman had spoken to me so rudely; the fact that a woman whose name I did not even know and whose identity I was not interested in knowing, had managed to permeate into my mind, leaving a trail of frustration and anger in her wake.

In all of my years of living as Adrian Valentino, nobody; no one, had ever dared to test my anger. But this strange woman had managed to provoke me- not once, but twice, and in such a short period of time.

Who was she?

What gave her such audacity and boldness to face me?

As I pondered that thought, I came upon a realization that jerked me out of my reverie. Suddenly, I let out an amused chuckle, nodding my head and clapping my hands in understanding as I had realized what was going on.

The strange woman's game plan, I had it all figured out. She did all that because she knew daring to do what other people had never done would make me think about her; and she had succeeded as for a little while there, the very thought of her had consumed my mind.

It was then that I also recalled how I had come upon her in the trunk of my car. I figured that she had some how found out that the car belonged to me and she had hidden herself in my trunk in an attempt to follow me back to my house so as to know my address and possibly other personal details. Her aim had been to lengthen her meeting with me and find a way to stay around me longer.

I applauded her reasoning; for a strange woman, she sure was smart. But she was definitely not more smarter than I was as her plans would fail woefully. After all, I was Adrian Valentino, and being the most sought after man in the city meant that I had seen and experienced a lot of women. Every one of them wanted to spend more time with me, most of them even wanting something more than I was willing to offer, but I did not stand for any of that. I had never, and would never sleep with a woman more than once; that was the rule and principle that I lived by.

The strange woman might have tried to come up with a devious scheme to break my rule, but that was not going to be possible. I would ensure that she would never have any access to me, never again. Reaching for the intercom on my table, I dialed the number to the hotel manager's office.

A few minutes passed before I heard a gentle knock on my door.

"Come in!" I invited.

The door opened and turned in time to see, James, the manager walk into the room.

"Good morning, sir!" he greeted, bending slightly in a bow.

"I need you to do something urgent and important." I said.

"What would that be, sir?" He asked, looking at me with a mix of curiosity and alertness.

"I need a name to be blacklisted from the hotel's guest list."

As the owner of the prestigious hotel, I had a reputation to uphold and I could not afford for a crazy wanton woman to roam about my premises, soiling the image which I worked hard to build. I instructed James to find out the identity of that woman and make sure that her name would never grace our guest list again. The audacity which she had shown by daring to insult me was highly unacceptable for me, and by blacklisting her name, I was very assured that whatever attempts that she had would make to maneuver her way into my life would be in vain. I never spent my time with the same woman twice, and she would be no exception.

A knock on my door pulled me out if my reverie and my valet, Drew, peeked his head into the room.

"Yes?" I asked.

"Your dad just called, sir. He says you should come to the estate immediately as he has something important to discuss with you." He said.

"Okay. Get me my driver." I said and watched as my assistant closed the door behind him.

After my driver had been summoned, I strode out of the hotel lobby with Drew trailing by my side. When we arrived at the old mansion in which I had been born, grew up, and made many memories, fond and otherwise, Drew alighted the car quickly before making his way to open the door for me. The house was busy with activity as maids moved about tending to one thing or another. In the distance, I could hear my mother, Alvida's voice, delivering orders to the servants and I would normally go to greet her, but I could not afford the detour as I had more pressing matters to settle.

Instead, I focused on my pathway, making my way through the grand hallway with my footsteps echoing against the marble floors. Soon, I was pushing, open, the heavy doors that led to my father's study. Behind his massive mahogany desk, he sat, with

an air of authority which I had grown up to identify, surrounding him.

"Adrian," he said in acknowledgement of my presence, his tone measured.

"Father?" I said while pushing the doors to a close.

"Your day?" He asked.

"Not as well as I'd hoped, yours?" I asked.

"It's going quite well." He replied.

"Good for you." I nodded curtly.

"I guess." He said.

"You have something to say, don't you? You called me here because you did, did you not?" I asked.

I sounded rude but I did not care. I and my father rarely had touchy feely conversations; our relationship was built differently than other father son relationships that I had heard of. Whenever we had to discuss something, we always went straight to the point as we both did not believe in wasting precious time; time was money, after all- and we both enjoyed making our money. Watching him beating around the bush was very unsettling, and I had a bad feeling about what it was that he called me home for.

He sighed, a fatigued expression crossing his face as he said, "Sit down, son. We need to talk."

Need to talk?

Now that was another unsettling thing that had ever come out of my father's lips. We never 'needed' to talk; we only ever spoke to one another whenever we wanted to, and that was very rarely.

I took a seat, my curiosity growing by the second. What could possibly be so important that my father had to have that uncharacteristic expression on his face?

When he finally spoke, my father's words shattered every appearance of control that I had.

"Adrian, you're getting married."

On hearing his statement, the room seemed to spin as the words registered in my mind.

Married?

The very thought of it was unbelievable and absurd. I stood up from my chair immediately, knocking it over in my hurried anger.

"Absolutely not! I won't have it, Father."

He looked at me with a stern gaze, his eyes hardening.

"Listen, Adrian. This isn't a request. It's a necessity. It is your duty to this family."

I felt a surge of anger and rebellion rising within me.

"I will not be getting married. That plan that you have contorted in your head is not going to work." I said angrily.

"Adrian! I am your father, and you will listen to me, do you hear me? You can not defy me and you can definitely not be rebellious, not under my roof." He said.

"Then I'll take my rebellion outside your roof." I said and made to leave the room, but then he uttered those words that froze the blood in my veins and stopped me in my tracks.

"Your inheritance is on the line."

Heartache

DANIELLE'S P.O.V

30, 31, 32, 33,...

I counted from the car window as the trees passed by in a blur. It had always baffled me; the way the trees seemed to be the ones moving instead of the car. I was no physicist so I registered it as one of the numerous wonders of the world. Although the internet recorded only seven wonders, I believed the world had more mind-blowing, as well as, inexplicable events and sites that should have also be considered wonders of the world.

I was sited in the back seat of Dad's SUV while he sat across from me, typing away on his tablet at the same time as he made and received seemingly endless phone calls, as usual.

Work, work, work; all my dad ever did was work. It was so frustrating that sometimes all I wanted to do was to scream in his face. I wanted to tell him to just take a goddamned break from all of the work, but I knew that he would just remind me that the reason why he worked so exhaustively was because he wanted to secure my future. I believed that there was a very thin line between my father, the man who always doted on me and made sure that I lacked nothing, and Jack Dawson, his workaholic alter ego.

After the shock of seeing him in my hotel room had subsided, I had become angry. My mood changed from shock, to fear, and from fear to anger very fast. I honestly had not expected less from him as I knew that he would have caught me eventually. I just did not expect him to show up so soon; he should have at least, afforded me that courtesy.

I looked at him, watching as his hands flew across the tablet's screen. Jack Dawson was definitely at surface at that moment and as usual, his work was at the centre of his attention, leaving no space of thought for me. I sighed and turned back to the window, deciding to continue the activity which I had engaged myself in to alleviate the boredom and ignore the stifling silence; counting trees.

Where had I stopped counting from?

I did not remember so I started counting all over again.

57, 58, 59, 60....

"Do you have nothing to say to me?" Dad said, his question disrupting the silence.

Apparently, he finally had some time away from his busy schedule to engage me in a conversation.

"Am I supposed to say something?" I asked in confusion.

"That is a question you should answer yourself" he said.

He looked at me with that stern expression he used whenever he was in the process of scolding me.

"I don't know what you expect me to say"

I was even more confused. What exactly did he want me to say?

"Why did you run away?" he asked.

"Why do you think I did?"

"I asked a question. Stop answering my questions with questions" His eyes narrowed onto slits when he spoke.

I rolled my eyes at him and turned back towards the window.

"Do you plan on running away anytime you're faced with a challenge?" he asked.

"You call this a challenge, dad?" I asked in disbelief.

"Don't be such a drama queen, Danielle" he said. It was his turn to roll his eyes.

"I am not being dramatic, dad. A challenge is deciding what to wear to work early in the morning, that is a challenge. Getting married to a complete stranger is not what you call a challenge; clearly, you and I have different definitions of what a challenge means. And any lady would run away from home if they were being forced to get married, especially to a man they do not know." I said angrily.

"Any lady in her right senses would not pass up the opportunity of getting herself married into a prestigious family" he argued.

"Then we'll both have to agree that I am not in my right senses." I said.

"Grow up, Danielle."

"I do not want to marry, Dad. And even if I did, I would want to be married to someone that I love. Someone I know!"

"This is the twenty first century. Things don't go that way anymore" he said.

"Arranged marriages aren't the rave anymore either. Everyone has a right to choose to marry for love."

"You don't need love in a marriage, Danielle"

"Did you love mum?" I asked him.

Something flashed in his eyes as I mentioned my mother; we never talked about her. Dad turned towards the window on his side of the car.

"You'll learn to love him" he said.

"I don't want to learn to love a total stranger after marriage." I said angrily.

"You're getting married, Danielle, and that's it. It's not up for debate and I don't want to hear your opinion on this matter anymore." he said with a finality that I could not oppose.

"There will be an introductory dinner tonight so you two can get to know each other. The groom's father will be there, as well as myself."

I turned back towards the window on my side of the car. I was so angry that my heart beat unsteadily and my hands shook. I folded my arms to keep them from shaking but I eventually had to unfold them to wipe away the angry tears that trailed down my cheeks.

Jack Dawson was a dictator, and in that moment, I wished my loving dad would surface. After a few hours of tense silence, the car pulled into our driveway and I got out immediately. I headed for the front door but dad's voice stopped my movement.

"Your make-up and wardrobe team are scheduled to be here by five and dinner is by eight"

I continued my movement towards the house, thinking he was done.

"And Danielle?" he said, halting my movement to the door.

"Yes?"

"Be on your best behavior."

I stormed into the house and as I shut the front door angrily, I did not bother wiping at the tears that fell down my face on the way up the stairs to my room.

AS SCHEDULED, the makeup and wardrobe team rang the doorbell by five o'clock. The next two hours were spent dolling myself up for my betrothed; a man that I had never seen.

I was usually happy with the process of being dolled up but that evening, I could not find the energy to be elated. Once they were done, the team left my room and I was finally on my own. My freedom didn't last long, however, as a knock sounded at my door.

"Come in" I said.

A uniformed housekeeper entered the room.

"Your father sent for you, ma'am. Your guests have arrived"

"Thank you, Rosie. You may go." I said, dismissing her

"Welcome, ma'am"

I rubbed my sweaty palms on the dinner dress and after a few minutes of catching my breath and steadying myself, I headed downstairs. From the top of the stairs well, I could hear my Dad greeting the new arrivals and before I descended down the stairs, I took in a deep breath of air.

I prepared myself to meet the two strangers, however, on entering the dining room, I realized that one of them was not as unfamiliar as I had thought.

I knew that I looked very beautiful that night, but I was just as sure that my beauty was not the reason behind the shocked expression on the face of one of the men sited opposite my Dad at the dining table.

"Danielle, this is Adrian Valentino, your husband to be, and Alfredo Valentino, his father" I faintly heard my dad introduce, but I was too busy trying to comprehend the cruel twist of my fate to listen to what my father was saying.

What was the snotty bastard of a one night stand from the resort doing, sited in my house?

"You!" I heard him say at the same time that I did.

"Do you two know each other?" I heard a male voice ask.

I turned towards the voice and found myself looking at the older version of my one night stand. They looked so much alike that it was difficult to argue that they were not blood related.

"We do not!" we said at the same time, again.

His eyes glinted with what I could only describe as disdain, and I knew that my own expression mirrored his.

"This marriage cannot happen" I said.

"Danielle?" I heard dad say sternly.

"I refuse to go through with this marriage" I repeated.

"Danielle!" dad raised his voice.

"I agree with her, Mr Dawson. This marriage can not take place" the rude bastard said.

"What are you two talking about?" his father asked calmly.

"I'm sorry for her outburst. Please, excuse us" dad apologized and signalled with his eyes for me to follow him.

"I am not sorry. I will not marry this man; I refuse to even breathe the same air as him." I maintained.

Suddenly, I felt fingers wrap around my arm. I looked up to see that it was Dad just as he pulled me out of the room and dragged me up the stairs to his study. Once we were on the room, he shut the door behind him and turned on me.

"What was that about?" he asked angrily.

"If that is truly my groom, I want nothing to do with this marriage" I answered.

"What is it about him? What do you have against him?" he asked.

How was I to tell my father that the man he wanted me to marry was an egotistical idiot that I had spent a passionate night with while I was on the run from the news of my arranged marriage?

"Nothing", I chose to say.

"Danielle, I warned you. I told you to be on your best behavior"

"I can't do it!"

"Why are you so hell bent against this marriage? Why do you choose to make this exhausting?"

"You're the one making it exhausting. I am your daughter, not your employee. You can not tell me what to do or not to do especially when it affects my life" I yelled.

Dad sighed and massaged his temple.

"I have my reasons for doing this. I have my reasons for rushing things" dad says.

"What are those reasons. I have a right to know"

"Danielle..."

Dad hesitated, rubbing his palms and sighing sadly.

"What, dad?"

He looked at me with an expression that I could not place, right before dropping a bomb on me.

"I'm sick, Danielle... I'm dying"

Journey

DANIELLE’S P.O.V.

The news of Dad’s illness continued to echo in my mind and yet, it remained a struggle for me to process it. I tried to wrap my head around it, but the reality refused to settle in. The ground felt like it had shifted beneath me and the weight of the news pressed against my chest, making it hard for me to breathe. I wanted nothing to do with the men sited at the dining table, I wanted nothing to do with the arranged marriage, and I most especially wanted nothing to do with the snotty, rude bastard that sat across from me at the table, but I had a choice no more. Dad’s confession had practically forced my hand, and now, I had to endure the torture. For his sake, and his sake alone, I forced myself to go through with the introductory dinner with Adrian Valentino and his father, Alfredo, putting on my best behavior as if having to act so civil with the rude bastard were not killing me inside.

As the evening slowly wore on, I stole quick glances at Adrian, expecting to see a form of resistance or disinterest in the conversations that our fathers engaged us with in terms of our marriage agreement, but to my surprise, he was unnervingly calm and collected. He even seemed to be coming to terms with the idea of our impending marriage. When the subject of marriage was brought up by my father, I braced myself for Adrian's refusal, anticipating that he would reject the proposal and that he would come up with a reason to not go through with the engagement, but he did the opposite.

“My father and I have spoken about it, and I see no reason why the marriage should not take place.” He said.

His calm response elicited a smile of approval from both our fathers, catching me off guard and causing chills of suspicion to run down my spine. As if the night could not get any more uncomfortable for me, it took an unexpected turn when both our fathers suggested that we take a walk together. I was reluctant to be left alone with Adrian, but the imploring eyes of my dad caused me to hold back my inhibitions and like that, I followed Adrian outside the house and into the gardens. Once we were alone and out of ear shot, Adrian suddenly stopped in his tracks and turned on me. His expression turned cold and his poker face, which I was accustomed to, returned.

"Was last night part of your grand plan to get closer to me too?" he asked with a cold tone.

"Why, in the world, would I need to scheme to get close to you?" I snapped.

"You tell me. It wouldn't be the first time someone has tried to use me for their own gain." He said.

"Really, Adrian?" I retorted, “Are you so arrogant that you assume everything revolves around you? Is your ego that inflated?”

He arched an eyebrow, an infuriating smirk tugging at his lips.

"I've learned not to trust coincidences," he replied, his eyes never leaving mine, “Especially when women like you are involved.”

Women like me? What the hell was that supposed to mean?

The insult stung and I felt the patience that I tried very hard to conserve wearing out. How dare he question my intentions after everything that had happened between us? Did he think I was so desperate that I would come up with a plan to get close to him? I did not even have the slightest idea of who he was the night that I met him at the club; that was my first time meeting him. Anger burned in my chest as I looked at him.

"Right, because being engaged to you is such a golden opportunity that I cannot bear to miss." I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm, "I was never even aware of your existence before that night at the club. I advice that you take a good look at yourself and around you, for once in your life. Not everything is about you.”

His eyes glittered with a mixture of amusement and something else; an expression that I couldn't quite place.

"Well, Danielle, if you're so opposed to this arrangement, and unhappy about it, why not prove it? Offer to call off the engagement and prove to me that all of this is not just a part of your plan." He said, a cold smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

His words were like a slap across my face, and I felt offense and anger rise within me as he stared at me with that smug expression.

How dare he insinuate that I was the one with ulterior motives?

I wanted, so very badly, to hit him across the face and watch that smug smirk on his lips fall, but I held myself back, reminding myself vividly of the reason why I was engaged in that conversation with the rude bastard in the first place.

"And why can't you be the one to refuse?" I shot back, “Or are you afraid that being rejected by me would bruise your ego?"

At my challenge, Adrian’s lips curved into a wicked grin, infuriating and aggravating me further.

"I assure you. Marriage or not, my lifestyle will not be affected.” He said.

My hands clenched into fists at my sides as my anger reaching a boiling point. Who did he think he was?

Who did that insufferable bastard think he was to speak to me in that manner?

How dare he talk to me with so little regard, and look down on me?

My fury bubbled inside of me and I could barely contain it. I was ready to unleash my frustration. As I prepared to say my next retort, his words stopped me in my tracks and cut through the tension, catching me off guard.

“Or…” he trailed, suddenly rising up his hand. His eyes sparkled as if he had just discovered another wonder of the world, and his lips drew up into a suspicious looking smile.

“Or what?” I asked, looking at him with a suspicious expression and guarded eyes.

"Or," he drawled, his tone dripping with mischief, "we could turn this into a contract marriage. An arrangement of convenience; a trial period to see if we can stay together as a compatible couple that you think we are. We would have rules that would strictly define our current situation, and if neither one of us likes this arrangement, we can walk away from it without having to lose anything.”

A contract marriage?

His unexpected proposition left me momentarily speechless and froze my anger in its tracks. The idea was as bizarre as it was unexpected and I blinked, momentarily taken aback by the suggestion.

Had he seriously just proposed that we enter into a marriage of convenience, without any emotional entanglements or attachments?

I stared at him, searching his eyes for any sign of deception but all I found was that same calculated expression that he had been wearing at the dining table; that same air of nonchalance that he carried around him. It was as if he had just thrown down a challenge and dared me to accept it.

A whirlwind of emotions rolled within me; confusion, disbelief, and an odd sense of curiosity. I met his gaze and held eye contact with him for a few minutes, trying to read his thoughts through his eyes and expression.

"Is this some kind of game to you?" I asked, my voice coming out sharper than I intended for it to.

His gaze held mine and his smirk faded into something that almost resembled genuine interest, but I knew better, and I knew that that insufferably rude bastard could never be interested in anything other than himself.

"It is a solution. Take it or leave it, Danielle. The ball is in your court."

The ball was, indeed, in my court, and I found myself torn between my pride and my curiosity which I could not ignore.

Could I endure this man; this infuriating, rude and cold bastard, even if it was not a real and conventional union?

As the moon bathed the both of us in its glow, I met his gaze, the tension in our eye contact so thick that one could cut through it with a knife.

"Fine," I finally said my voice steady unlike the rollercoaster of emotions in my mind, "Let's do it then; let us see if your so called solution will work out. Let us have a contract marriage, but do not think for a second that I'll make it easy for you."

Adrian's lips curled into a mischievous smile, a sight that caught me off guard.

"I wouldn't expect anything less, Danielle."

And just like that, we stood on the precipice of a new arrangement, one that neither of us had anticipated. As we stared at each other, a silent understanding passed between us. Whatever lay ahead, it was bound to be a tumultuous journey.