*not edited*

Hi lovelies,

I really hope you are enjoying this so far. I'll be honest I really love Kessiya and just her personality in general!

Please keep showing this book some love.

Rose x

|3.|

I have always prided myself on being self aware.

I mean, that's how I became the youngest senior executive of PR for Armstrong Corporations. I always had an eye for details, always on my toes, always being self aware and ready to learn new things.

But more importantly, ever since I was young, I've always been aware of other people. I can read them like an open book. It's almost a sixth sense.

That's how I knew, straight away when I met Sandra and her friends for coffee, that within a few minutes I would be desperate to pull my hair out and just as I had anticipated, I wasn't wrong.

That's also how I knew, when I walked into my first blind date with Aaron Samuels, that he was gay.

I'll be honest and admit that I wasn't 100% sure that he batted for the other team, because believe me, he hid it very well. He was conscientious and friendly and acted completely in the opposite manner to my sterotypical assumtion of gay men. He spoke about his religion, his family and his future life plans but despite it all, I just had this deep feeling.

Aaron Samuels was gay.

And right now, the look on his shell shocked face, suggests that I had just hit the nail on its head.

His tanned face loses all its colour, his long fingers tighten around the stem of his wine glass.

   "W-what?" He splutters, his eyes going wide.  "Wha-t are you talking about?"

Suddenly a wall of denial is erected and he looks at me with fire in his eyes. Any former friendliness is wiped out and he glares at me, burning me with his dark eyes.

  "How dare you!" He snaps, "How dare you accuse me like that."

I blink at his words, but the rest of my face remains expressionless. He was angry at me, but not because I had assumed wrong, but probably because I was the first person to ever have confronted him face to face.

  "I get that you're angr-"

  "Just shut up!" Aaron interrupts. He stands up and grabs his jacket and before I could say anything else, he marched out of the restaurant.

Shit.

I run my fingers through my thick black hair, ignoring all the weird looks I was getting from the other customers.

I had messed up. 

  "Miss?"

I look up to meet the anxious eyes of our server. She was young, probably still in college and from the uncomfortable look on her face, she wasn't sure how to deal with the situation she had just encountered.

  "Would you like to order anything else?" She asks awkwardly and I smile at her to ease her apprehension. I remember what it was like to work part time, while trying to maintain all my studies, yet barely making enough to survive.

Life was hard enough, but life as a student in New York was just Hell.

  "No, I think I'm ready to get the bill." I tell her and she smiles back before leaving and then returning quickly.

I foot the bill and leave a decent tip, before grabbing my own jacket and exiting the warmth of the restaurant for the cold air of a New York evening.

The icy wind bites at my skin and I wrap my Burberry scarf around my neck, trying to cover as much of my face as I could. The scarf was my first gift to myself with my first paycheck from Armstrong. It was expensive and probably not worth the money I spent, but I still loved it. Not because of the designer label, but because it was the first sign that all the work and struggle was worth it. That not having the money to eat for days on end, working endlessly at part time jobs, while drowning under college work was all worth it.

I hear the clicking of my heels as I walk down the paved path, half in my own thoughts, half paying attention to the other people walking around. It was dark now and I could hardly make out faces, but in the short distance I made out a lonely figure sitting on a park bench.

At first, I decided that it was best if I carried on walking. Clearly I had made a mess already and pushed at something he had preferred to keep hidden, but then one look again at his hunched form, I found myself slowly walking over.

He didn't look up when I stopped in front of him.

He didn't look over when I sat down next to him.

But he did speak when I let out a sigh.

"How did you know?" He finally asks, his eyes still downcast, observing his linked fingers as if they were the clue to life itself.

I shrug my shoulders, pushing my scarf down slightly so I could speak. "I don't know," I tell him, "I just had a gut feeling."

Aaron snorts, "Wow." He whispers, "...a gut feeling."

He looks up at me and I notice the anger in his brown eyes have changed to something that looks more like defeat.

  "You basically exposed the one thing I have been so desperately trying to hide away all my life, just because of a gut feeling?" His voice is almost dumbfounded.

I feel an uncomfortable heaviness in my chest. All my life I've lived only thinking about myself. Trying my hardest to climb to the top, no matter what the consequences. But this time, it's different. I feel an ache of guilt at the fact I had basically blackmailed a man into marrying me.

  "I haven't told anyone and I promise I won't. I'll forget about it, I swear." I say honestly. I might be many things, but I never break a promise.

I stand up, "Just forget I ever said anything." I pause, "It was nice to meet you Aaron." I add, honestly.

Turning away, I go to leave but his voice stops me.

  "Hold on- wait."

Aaron walks around so he is standing in front of me. I'm tall; standing at 5ft 8, I'm above the average height for a woman, yet I still have to look up to meet Aarons eyes.

He seems determined.

  "Let's do it." He states. "Let's get married."

Wait, what?

  "I thoug-"

  "You're right. I have had enough of being pressured into blind dates and forced into marriage proposals by my parents. I'm tired of being afraid that one day my parents are just going to pick up on the fact I've never dated properly or have no interest in women. More than anything, I'm scared my parents are going to find out I'm gay." His voice cracks but he pulls himself together.  

"You said this marriage would be real only legally, right?"

I nod quickly.

"Then let's get married. On the one condition we both agree this is a mutually beneficial business deal."

At the words 'mutually beneficial' I grabbed his outstretched hand and shook it tightly.

  "Well," I say, unable to hide my big smile, "you've got yourself a deal, fiancé."

And that is how we come to the present moment.

Me, standing drenched and a true sight to behold.

Aaron, looking as handsome and put together as usual.

He laughs kindly at my awkward attempt to joke and hide the fact I had nearly forgotten his name. I mean who could blame me, after our last meeting about three weeks ago (where we decided to get married), I hadn't seen or heard from him. A lot of things happened during those three weeks and unfortunately while the thought of our impending marriage had never strayed too far from my thoughts, it might be possible his name had.

Oops.

  "Yeah, I just finished a meeting." He explains, his eyes slowly trailing up and down my body, taking in my current state.

If it had been any other man checking me out, I would have poked his eyes out with hot iron, but knowing what I did about Aarons preferences, I didn't take offence as his eyes lit up when he noted my now see through underwear through my wet clothes.

Thank god I wore my new bra. This situation could only be more embarrassing if I was wearing my old granny bra.

I clear my throat, my tanned cheeks turning red in humiliation.

He smirks, "So, I'm sorry but I think I overheard you saying something about being locked out of your apartment?" He asks, dark eyebrows raising. I can see the amusement sparkling in his dark chocolate coloured eyes.

I smooth over my wet hair, already getting frizzy from the rain.

  "Yeah, I'm locked out and my flat mate isn't answering her phone." I tell him.

I'm glad that we managed to sort out everything. Despite everything, even if this fake marriage was more for our own selfish reasons, I was happy that it was Aaron I was planning to enter into matrimonial bliss with. Even if we were never going to be romantically involved, I could already tell Aaron was going to be a good friend.

  "Well," he starts with a shrug, "my apartment is close by and you could always come with me and use my shower." He offers, "I can let you borrow some clothes so you don't end up catching a cold." He winks.

I nearly scream out loud in happiness. 

  "Really?" I ask. He nods, smiling.

  "Thank you so much Aaron!" I squeal, "You've literally saved my life." I tell him, to which he just rolls his eyes.

He shrugs of his black suit jacket and throws it over my shoulders. I'm surprised by the action and give him a questioning look.

His lips quiver as he tries to maintain a straight face.

   "What? I don't want anyone else to see my fiancée's sexy underwear now, do I?" He teases, making me nudge him with my shoulder.

  "Oh shut up." I say, my own lips turning up, "Let's actually walk down the aisle first before you turn all possessive." I joke.

•••

So, I guess there's one more thing that I learnt about my soon to be fake husband.

And that is he's pretty fucking rich.

My jaw dropped in awe when he led me into his penthouse. It was big and obviously professionally furnished with the general colour scheme being grey, black and white. Large glass window took up many walls and as soon as you entered through the doors, you were met with a skyline view of New York.

Natural light flooded the rooms through the massive top to floor glass windows and even part of the roof was fitted with glass.

Grey sofas and minimalist furniture adorned the living room. A large HD 85" TV took up most of a wall and large crystal lights hung from the ceilings.

  "Oh. My. Gosh." I whisper as I explore all the rooms, each time I open a new door, my eyes widening further.

Aaron just smiles at my speechless expression, shrugging as if this incredible house was nothing to be floored by.

  "Bloody heck!" I find myself saying as I walk back into the kitchen, where he was helping himself to a glass of water.

  "Meh, it's nothing to really brag about." He says, walking away to grab a towel and spare clothes for me to change into.

Nothing to brag about? Like was he being serious? I would trade my soul to the devil to live in a place like this.

My job allowed me a good salary, one that I was immensely proud off, but clearly for Aaron to afford to live in a penthouse, especially one like this, he must be earning double-no triple my current salary.

I exhale a breath, shaking my head as I walked over to the large window facing the New York skyline.

I had moved to New York six years ago, when I received a scholarship to attend Columbia University. It was the first time I had ever left my home town of Bridgeview Meadow, which was a small isolated little town south of Texas, where there was a population of less than 700. People who were born in Bridgeview, lived, studied, worked and then died in Bridgeview. They knew nothing else outside the town and they didn't care to find out either.

But that wasn't me.

My parents enforced the belief that there was more to life than Bridgeview and that there was a whole new world outside that was waiting to be discovered.

They also knew that education was the key to a successful future and so they pushed me and my brother to our limits. We studied until our brains shut down and wrote until our hands ached. My dad made me enrol in extracurricular activities like karate and badminton, while my mother made me learn three languages and play the piano. It was hard and near the end I almost gave up.

But it was all worth it, when I finally got that acceptance letter from Columbia University.

It was all worth it.

  "Hey- here you go." I break from my trance and look back to Aaron who was holding a white towel and some clothes in his hands.

Gratefully, I take them from him.

  "It's a nice view." I tell him, turning back to look once more at the towering skyscrapers that look so small from here. Still though, even from the silence in the penthouse, I could still almost hear the loud bustle of mid day New York.

  "It's even better at night." He tells me and I believe him.

I turn away, shaking the towel and clothes in my hands. "Thanks again for this." I tell him, genuinely grateful. I don't know what I would have done if he hadn't offered to help.

  "No problem," He replies before showing me to the bathroom. "I'll make you something to eat for when you get out." He adds, making me even more thankful.

I close the door behind me and take a few seconds to admire the marbled walls and glass shower before turning to my reflection in the large gold framed mirror, hanging above the granite sink.

Jesus! I look like I've just crawled out of a sewer.

My hair was in that awkward stage of being wet and frizzy and half of it still remained plastered to my neck. My makeup was ruined and what remained of my mascara and eyeliner was smeared underneath my eyes.

I turned on the shower and shrugged off Aarons, now damp suit jacket before peeling off my wet clothes. Just before I got in under the hot stream of water, I heard the doorbell go and noted Aarons footsteps heading to the door.

My shower was quick, max 15 minutes and feeling more human, less sewer creature, I turned off the shower and dried myself quickly.

Aaron had kindly let me borrow a grey t-shirt and black joggers and while not flattering on my body, it was still greatly appreciated and an upgrade on my rain soaked clothes.

I ran my fingers through my wet hair and turned to face my reflection once again, my critical eyes judging my appearance.

I knew I was pretty. Well... my face was pretty. I had a dark skin tone, which Millie always complimented saying it looked like dark caramel and thick black wavy hair which was often the cause of my stress in the morning when it didn't behave. I had thick eyebrows which I inherited from my father and a sloping button like nose from my mother, which made my face look youthful. I had big brown eyes which looked abnormal on my relatively small face and lips that were once the reason I was bullied for, because they were deemed too big by other highschool students.

My childhood was turbulent and rough to say the least. In fact, if it hadn't been for Millie, I was pretty sure I would have spent all of my highschool life eating lunch alone in the toilets.

Like I said, Bridgeview Meadow was a small town, meaning it wasn't a surprise when it turned out only mine and Millie's family were the families of colour. Along with my brother, Kevin and Millie's brother, Cole, we were the only students that weren't white.

Meaning highschool was a struggle to say the least.

I only hit my self proclaimed 'glow up' when I started college and that meant all through my life in Bridgeview, I was bullied for being different, for being 'ugly.' It got so bad that some days I would just sit in front of my mirror and write pages and pages of reasons why I hated myself.

Looking back now, it makes me furious. Not because of the kids that bullied me, but because of how I let them bully me.  I was weak and vulnerable and I took their verbal punches lying down.

However, no matter how painful my childhood was, I am still grateful for the harsh lessons it's taught me.

Their relentless bullying made me more determined to escape Bridgeview Meadow and I suppose it did the same for Millie too.  We both went through the hardship of being different in a place that didn't appreciate us and while Millie was always stronger than I was, I know it played a big part in who she is today.

The moment we got our acceptance letters, we packed our bags and caught the first train out of that hellish place.

And we never looked back.

So while I got over some of the torment I had gone through about my appearance, there was still a part of me I hated.

My body.

I wouldn't say I was fat. I was just, how do people say it these days- ah 'curvy.'

But not exactly in the same way, those curvy models on the front page magazines looked like. No, my 'curvy' meant I had thick thighs that jiggle when I walked, stretch marks across the tops of my legs. I had a slight tummy, which meant I never wore tight dresses in fear that people could see my plump stomach and a bottom that stuck out like a sore thumb.

I hated my body. And I hated it with a passion.

I could feel angry, hot tears prick my eyes when I looked at my body in my reflection and I quickly looked away.

I joined gyms, I did diets, I went through stages of not eating or eating and then forcing myself to be sick. I did everything I could to try and 'fix' my body and yet it still stayed the same way.

I was confident in myself, my work, my abilities.

But in my body? I would rather die than show someone my jiggly thighs and pudgy stomach.

I cleaned up the water I had spilt when I had stepped out of the shower and grabbing my wet clothes, I stepped out of the bathroom.

I noticed straightaway that the apartment was eerily quiet. I was tempted to call out for Aaron, but like I said before, I have a really good sixth sense which made me decide against making any abrupt noises. I slowly, with quiet steps made my way throughout the apartment, heading to the kitchen.

I was barely in the kitchen, hidden behind a wall when I saw the sight in front of me. My hands flew up to my face in shock, forcing myself to hold back my scream. My wet clothes tumbled to the floor.

Aaron was on the floor.

His hands tied behind his back, his mouth gagged with a piece of cloth, which based on the fact he was shirtless, I guess was his shirt. He was bleeding from an open wound on the top of his head, lines of blood drooling down his face. He was sweating profusely, begging, or what looked like begging, since his voice was muffled by the gag.

My eyes then turned to the figure towering over him and I muffled a small gasp. The man's face was hidden as he was standing slightly behind Aaron, his back turned to me. But despite this, I could see he was deadly. Maybe it was from the dark aura that exuded from him, or the way his back muscles flexed as he moved or-

Or maybe, it was because of the fucking gun he was holding to Aarons head.

My heart pounded fast in my chest, my head spinning at a hundred miles per hour, making me lightheaded. My skin turned clammy and slick with sweat as I heard the gun click in preparation to fill my fiancés head with bullets.

I pushed myself back, forcing my frantic head to slow down and think logically.

What can I do?

I could call the police, but by the time they arrived Aaron would already be dead.

I know self defence, maybe I should try and fight him? Yeah good idea, Kes. That way we can both get matching bullets in our head. Hey! At least we would have fulfilled our marriage vows right? Till death do us part. Stupid idiot!

I took another risky look back at the situation. The intruder with the gun was saying something to Aaron, whispering it in his ears. His voice was deep and low so I couldn't make out what he was saying.

What the heck was going on? Was Aaron being burgled?

That sixth sense of mine kicked in again and I took in the mystery man dressed completely in black. There was something lethal about the man, the way he stood, the way he held that gun like it was second nature.

No, this wasn't a simple burglary.

This was something more, something completely dangerous.

I slide back behind the wall, my eyes darting around the place, trying to figure out what on Earth I should do. From the corner of my eyes, I spotted the front door.

The gun wielding maniac was currently distracted and wouldn't see it if I ran to the door. I could escape, this was my chance to run for my life.

Yet I stayed rooted to the spot. I could run if I wanted, maybe even make it out of here safely. But there would be no escape from my guilt if I choose to leave and Aaron ended up dead.

I tried to focus once again and this time, I conjured up a reckless plan. One that could potentially save Aarons life, but one that could also put me in a coffin next to his body.

I pulled myself together and dropped to the floor. I was now hidden behind the kitchen counter, so I slowly and as silently as I could crawled to the sink where I spotted a frying pan. Reaching up, I grabbed it and pulled it into my chest.

Clearly the intruder wasn't aware that I was in the apartment, so this gave me an advantage.

I stood up, crouching to still remain hidden and then slowly took baby steps in the direction of Aaron and the mystery man.

My heart was in my mouth as I continued to make my way towards them, my whole body shaking in fear. All the luck I had missed out earlier today seemed to be on my side as I got closer and neither Aaron nor the gunman had recognised my presence.

As I got closer I could hear broken words that the man was asking Aaron.

   "Where....tell..money...dead."

Just steps away from them both, my luck gave away and the laminated floor underneath my feet creaked.

Then almost in slow motion the man in black turned around, his dark eyes meeting mine in shock.

One traitorous thought flashed through my head, surprising me.

  Damn. He's gorgeous.

Wait, what?

And then before he could turn his weapon to me, I striked first. My frying pan smacked him in the head, backed with all the strength in my body, making him stumble, his eyes rolled back into his head and then he fell to the floor like a dead weight.

I gripped the handle of the pan tightly, my eyes wide as both Aaron and I locked on the unconscious attempted murderer on the floor.

I had just knocked a man unconscious with a frying pan. Tangled style.

And I'll be honest, I was fucking proud of myself.

I absolutely love Tangled! So obviously I had to use the frying pan scene *wink, wink*

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