In just three days, Andreas managed to secure all the paperwork for the couple's marriage in Country A. It was a herculean task for most, but for his boss, it was as simple as lifting a finger.
Meanwhile, Sandra hadn't been herself for days, her mind whirling with desperate plans to escape marrying Roland. But no matter how much she racked her brain, she came up empty. She considered calling the police, but in this third-world country, she knew she'd be outmatched by a billionaire who could toss money around like confetti. What would she even say to them?
Looking at the luxurious business card in her hand, Sandra resigned herself to her fate. "Just one year," she told herself, "It'll fly by." Little did she know, Roland had no intention of letting her go even after that year.
Just as she was about to dial the number, her doorbell rang. Opening the door, she found herself face-to-face with a tall, slender, stunning man in a navy-blue suit, complete with a vest and a red tie. Her heart skipped a beat; she had a weakness for beautiful creatures.
The man waved with a dazzling smile. Sandra frowned. "How did you know where I live?" But she answered her own question in her mind. Of course, he had ways of finding out even her birthday.
"Are we just going to stand here and admire each other?" Roland quipped, breaking the silence.
"Mr. Fleming, I haven't called you yet," Sandra replied, her voice icy.
"I haven't heard from you in three days. I needed to make sure you hadn't run away from me," Roland said, stepping closer. Sandra instinctively stepped back, and before she knew it, they were inside her house with Roland closing the door behind them.
Sandra's mind was screaming red alert, her eyes watching him cautiously. Roland let out an inward sigh. She was like a prickly porcupine. "Do you have an answer for me?" he asked.
Sandra let out a self-mocking snicker. "Mr. Fleming must be joking. You've left me with no choice; why act like I have one?"
Roland moved closer until Sandra was cornered against the wall, his gaze intense. He had vowed to break down her walls and make her his, but he also knew not to push too hard. He stepped back and sat in her quaint living room, taking in the clean, bright space that smelled distinctly of her.
Sandra disappeared into the kitchen, returning with tea and cookies. She sat across from him and asked, "Mr. Fleming, what do you gain from this marriage?" No matter how she looked at it, marrying someone as insignificant as her seemed to offer him no benefits at all.
Roland picked up the teacup with an elegant grace, crossing his long legs. "Didn't I tell you? You took my virginity," he said, his face utterly serious.
Sandra's mouth twitched; she was itching to punch that smug look off his face. "Besides, haven't you heard the rumor that my family is strictly conservative and principled? If I sleep with a woman, I have to marry her," he continued, a playful smile dancing on his lips.
Sandra had heard the rumor, but she dismissed it as just some silly gossip among the elite. Billionaires cared only about making money, right?
"How would they know what happened?" Sandra's face turned red at the mere thought of that night. Roland's smile widened; he found her cuteness irresistible.
"My mother is more resourceful than I am. In fact, there's a chance she's on her way here to get us engaged," Roland said, discussing it as casually as if he were talking about the weather.
Sandra thought it was absurd. Then a sudden realization hit her. Wasn't the owner of Rosé Couture Rosa Fleming? His mother? Her eyes widened as she remembered that just a few days ago, the owner had informed her she'd be coming to negotiate herself.
Could Roland be telling the truth? Was Rosa coming because she knew about that night at the hotel?
Realizing this, Sandra's face paled. How was she supposed to face her? Would she throw money in her face and tell her to stay away from her son, like in those exaggerated dramas? That would be for the best, but if she really was coming to force them into marriage, that would be even more tough to face.
While she was lost in thought, Roland suddenly stood up, and before she knew it, his arms were on either side of her, cornering her against the sofa. Sandra instinctively pulled back.
She looked up to meet his deep, intense gaze. Roland then spoke, "We'll leave in a month, once I've finished my work here. After the marriage, we'll come back and live our own lives. Next week, our engagement will be announced, but don't worry, your identity won't be disclosed at all."
Roland returned to the sofa, continuing to sip his tea with an air of nonchalance. After regaining some composure, Sandra spoke up, "Can we at least set some rules?"
"Tell me what you have in mind, and I'll tell you if I agree or not," Roland responded with a smug grin.
Sandra wanted nothing more than to strangle him. She gritted her teeth and said, "I will stay in this apartment."
"Absolutely not, I've already bought a house near your work," Roland interrupted, his tone brooking no argument.
Sandra bit her lip; he was such a tyrant. "Well, then, we'll sleep in separate rooms."
Roland paused, thinking that even if they slept in separate rooms, it didn't mean he couldn't find ways to get close to her, right? "I'll consider it," he said with a sly smile.
"You won't interfere in my business," Sandra insisted, needing to ensure she could maintain her peaceful life.
"Done," Roland agreed.
Sandra heaved a sigh of relief. She had half-expected him to be completely unreasonable and reject all her conditions.
...
Two days later, the business magazine Black Elite caused a stir in the circles of the elite. The headline news was that Roland Fleming was engaged.
In a vast, modern-style mansion in the suburbs, Chelly stared at the magazine, seething with resentment. The identity of Roland's fiancée wasn't disclosed, and that should have been her place. But Roland had discovered her schemes and pressured her parents, which resulted in her being forced overseas to study. She didn't want to leave, but she had no choice.
She was leaving in a month, and before she did, she needed to find out who this mystery woman was. In a fit of rage, she threw the magazine across the room.
Sandra's days had drifted by with the tranquility of a still lake, despite the ripples caused by her engagement. Roland had kept his promise; her identity remained impeccably shielded from prying eyes. Yet, over the past few days, he'd begun to appear at her doorstep each evening, bearing bouquets, gifts, and an array of gourmet treats. She couldn't fathom his intentions, but aside from this mild inconvenience, he didn't overstep, so she endured his presence with a grain of patience.
Time passed, and soon it was the day to meet Rosa Fleming. Sandra found herself in the plush, secluded room of a high-end sushi restaurant in Global City, her eyes skimming through some paperwork when her phone buzzed, displaying a message from Roland:
Devil's Incarnate: Fancy visiting our wedding house after work?
Porcupine Cutie: Sure
Sandra agreed, knowing full well he wouldn't accept a refusal. Was he some sort of romantic rogue, or was this just bizarre role-playing?
The door to the private room swung open, and in walked a vision of elegance—a middle-aged woman with striking silver hair, dressed in a custom beige suit that screamed sophistication.
Sandra stood, offering a smile that was both warm and slightly amused. "Mrs. Fleming, it's a pleasure to meet you."
"Likewise, Ms. Romualdez," Rosa replied, her handshake as graceful as a dance.
Rosa then presented an enticing proposal for a collaboration to distribute their designs across Asia, with her company overseeing production and distribution. They would start with exclusive editions to ease into the market, focusing on sportswear and street fashion. Sandra would work with Rosa's chief designer on the luxury pieces, while they would craft the more accessible lines themselves.
It seemed like a fabulous offer, but Sandra harbored doubts about her ability to juggle it all, especially considering Rosa would be her mother-in-law in name for a year. Rosa had yet to touch upon the engagement, which was both a relief and a source of worry. Was she in the know or blissfully unaware?
"Ms. Romualdez, I am eager to collaborate with you. My legal team will bring the contract to your office, and we can sign then," Rosa said, her smile brightening the room.
"It's an honor, Mrs. Fleming," Sandra replied with genuine humility.
Rosa clapped her hands once, the sound snapping Sandra from her thoughts. "Now, setting aside business, shall we discuss family matters?" Rosa asked, her voice tinged with excitement.
Sandra's eyes widened in shock as Rosa, with surprising agility, moved to sit beside her, taking her hands in her own. "Dear, you are absolutely beautiful. That charming scoundrel of mine has hit the jackpot. I'm so thankful you've accepted him, despite his... shall we say, colorful personality."
Sandra was left speechless by Rosa's sudden shift of personality. How much did she truly understand? Was she aware of their contractual arrangement?
"Dear, if that rascal ever gives you any trouble, just tell me, I'll set him straight," Rosa continued, barely pausing for breath. Sandra found herself unable to be anything but warm to this kind-hearted woman.
"Oh!" Rosa exclaimed, breaking Sandra's reverie. "Your wedding is just a month away! How are we going to prepare everything in time? That thoughtless child doesn't plan! There's so much to do, what an inconsiderate groom!"
"Mrs. Fleming," Sandra interjected, "we've decided on a civil ceremony, so there's not much preparation needed."
"How can that be?" Rosa protested, her genteel facade slipping ever so slightly. "Isn't that an insult to you and your family? You're so precious; we must have a grand wedding for you!" Her teeth gritted, and she cracked her knuckles, the image of grace momentarily shattered. "I'll give that boy a piece of my mind!"
"I'll only bring my mother, Madam," Sandra said, her voice tinged with melancholy but resolute.
Rosa squeezed her hands, her eyes softening. "Child, we will definitely cherish you in our family."
Sandra could only smile in response, wondering how she would ever explain to this lovely woman that her marriage to Roland was but a year-long charade.
After hours of engaging conversation with Rosa, Sandra finally set off to meet Roland. He had provided the address, and though unfamiliar with the area, Sandra surmised it was one of those affluent villages known for their sprawling, luxurious homes. The taxi came to a halt at an ornate gate, where, parked on the curb, she spotted Roland's car.
She paid the fare, stepped out into the crisp air, and just then, Roland appeared. Dressed in a casual white collared shirt and khaki pants, he looked both handsome and approachable, like a refreshing breath of air on a warm day.
Though her expression remained impassive, Sandra's heart raced with a wild fervor. She had an undeniable weakness for beauty, which was proving to be quite troublesome.
Roland, with a charming smile, opened the car door for her. The guard, in turn, swung open the gate, allowing them passage. After a brief five-minute drive, they stopped once more before another gate. They stepped inside to explore.
Nestled within the lush, manicured landscape of the high-end village of Everwood, stood the elegant two-story mansion known as Whisper wind. This modern marvel was a study in contemporary architecture, where sleek lines met nature, creating a home that was both a sanctuary and a statement of style.
The exterior of Whisper wind was a harmonious blend of glass, wood, and stone, designed to complement the surrounding environment rather than contrast it. Large, floor-to-ceiling windows captured the light and the beauty of the village, while the wood cladding provided warmth and texture, and the stone elements grounded the structure with a sense of permanence. The roof was flat, with a green garden that served as both insulation and an additional living space.
Entering through a minimalist front door with a hidden handle, one was greeted by an open, airy foyer with a floating staircase that seemed to defy gravity, its steps made of frosted glass with integrated lighting. The ground floor flowed seamlessly from one living space to another, the boundaries blurred by the absence of walls, allowing for an expansive, fluid living area.
The living room was a masterpiece of modern comfort, with a large sectional sofa in luxurious, grey velvet facing a linear fireplace whose flames danced behind a glass panel, creating a focal point without dominating the space. Above, a sleek, geometric chandelier cast a soft glow, and behind, a wall of windows offered views to a private garden where a koi pond reflected the sky.
Adjacent, the kitchen was a chef's delight, boasting high-end appliances hidden behind seamless cabinetry. The island served as both a prep area and a casual dining space, topped with a white quartz that glowed under the pendant lights. Here, the design was all about functionality wrapped in elegance, with smart storage solutions and a wine cooler discreetly integrated into the design.
Sliding glass doors from the dining area opened onto a covered patio, where outdoor living was elevated with a fire pit, a built-in BBQ, and comfortable seating, all overlooking the meticulously landscaped garden where paths meandered through native plants and art installations.
Surveying the opulence around her, Sandra pondered, 'He must have an abundance of money to spend.' Yet, she quickly reminded herself, it was none of her business. She would only be residing here for a year.