Chapter 8
Josh Heid Thompson.

The man I got, fake, secretly married with, looked at me with his chocolate eyes. He held no emotion. He was just looking at me, probably thinking how on escaping Hell. He was standing in front of me and was playing the hem of his shirt. The way he pursed his lips, it almost gave him away, telling me that he's scared. Well, he should be. Because he was about to face my wrath. He messed with me. I was going to mess his life.

He had been standing in front of me, unsure of what to do. Bryce, Topher, and Lucas had already left. They were part of the IT team. They tracked down the website where the first article had been published and they brought the man to me. I had yet to know his name.

He was looking anywhere but me. Occasionally, he would touch his legs. I knew he was getting numbed, but I was not about to command order. Throughout this meeting, I had my eyes trained on him.

The man had a brown hair, slightly cropped, but long enough to put a style on it. His complexion was a little tanned and probably, a lot of girls had been swooning at his presence. His height was short compared to mine. Maybe he was about 6'0". His nose was slightly crooked, obviously, he had been in a fight. That crooked nose added something to his beautiful features. From the looks of his body, he seemed like he was working out. You could clearly see the muscles of his arms nearly popping out, but not huge. It was just the average. He had this necklace on his neck; a dog tag, which added as something, part of his charm.

The man drummed his fingers on his stomach and he yawned. He raised his hand to his mouth to prevent from yawning but he failed anyway. When he did that, my eyes caught the hem of his shirt slightly going up, exposing his belly button and the slight hair travelling down to his navel. My eyes bored back to his and he squirmed from the intensity. I should have this man killed.

But no. It felt like he would be useful someday. So I decided to make a small talk, even if it's killing me. All I wanted to do was to rip the man's heart out of his chest and stomp on it.

"What's your name?" I asked him, taking a seat on my chair and putting my elbows on the table, entwining my fingers to each other as I looked upon him expectantly, waiting for an answer.

He jumped out, not expecting that I would talk. He hesitantly looked in my eyes and opened his mouth only to have it shut again.

"I asked you a question, did I not?" I growled, letting him know that I was losing patience. That seemed to tick him off because he spoke immediately. I was not the type of person to wait. I had a short patience and I did not like it when I was kept to wait.

"E... Eze... Ezerette," he whispered, averting his eyes off of me. His voice was husky and deep, and it sent shiver down my spine but I chose to ignore it. Probably the coldness around the room.

Ezerette. What a pretty interesting name. It suited him. Although the name sounded alien to me, when he had the name, it was beautiful to listen to. Ezerette. Ezerette. Clearing my throat, I drummed my fingers on my table, waiting for him to complete his name. He seemed to catch it because he, although he tried to hide but failed, rolled his eyes and I clenched my jaw. Nobody dared to roll their eyes at me.

"Prince Ezerette Mclane," he said straightly. He gulped and touched his legs again.

"You can seat down across from me, Ezerette." I said, motioning him to take a seat. He smiled gratefully and took a seat across from me. Now we were facing each other, his smile faltered and coughed fakely. I still had my eyes trained on him.

He fidgeted on his seat, nervousness consuming his whole body as beads of sweat started to form on his forehead. His bangs were sticking on it and I wanted to brush it away. It was hiding his eyes and that didn't look on him.

"Listen, I know that you're mad," he began, his eyes boring into mine, pleading. "But it's not my fault. Well, partly. But I'd like to explain things. Please don't have me killed. I still have a dream to fulfill. Please, just give me a - "

I cut him off by raising an index finger in the air. He immediately shut up and pursed his lips. He breathed and shut his eyes.

He sat back on the chair and shook his head lightly. He knew he was in deep mess right now, and he knew that I was not about to brush it off. One thing I had learned about my parents was to punish someone if they had committed a sin to you. But this man was a complete stranger to me, but that didn't mean I could not punish him.

"What's done is done," I said, composing myself. I couldn't undone what happened. So it was best to deal with it. I told him my plan. "I'll put you on television. You'll tell everyone that it's fake. That everything's fake. I know I'm hot and all, basically a God, but don't be so desperate. I'm not even gay. I'd like it better if you were a girl."

He glared at me. The once scared man fumed in anger as he fisted his knuckles and pointed a finger to me. I scowled at the action. Did he not know who I was? Nobody dared to point a finger to me. Everyone knew me. But this man didn't.

"You're so full of yourself," he spat, glaring at me with disgust and anger. "I'm not gay. If you would have let me explained things, you scum, then you would have been enlightened. But seeing how such an asshole you are, you deserve hell."

My eyes darkened. I saw red. How dare he speak to me like that? He didn't know me, did he? I took a step menacingly at him as I gritted my teeth. He stood up also, but not to defend himself, but to back away. He took a step back as I took a step forward slowly, my eyes were glaring daggers at him. He gulped and tried to apologize but too late. His words had been thrown at me and it hit me. I was not going to consider his apology.

Him taking a step backward had stopped when he felt the wall on his back. He gulped again and tried to apologize again but I heard nothing. As soon as we were face to face, I put my hand on the side of the wall, leaned down and whispered something in his ear which made him shiver and his knees went weak.
"You don't talk to me like that, kid," I whispered with such malice in his ear. "If you want to live, I suggest you behave. Remember, it's you who had started this. Now, be a good boy and shut up."

"I'm... I'm sorry," he breathed. From the looks of him, it was like he was having a mini seizure, but he was just slightly panicking. He angered me again. I just commanded him and he defied my command. This man needed to be taught.

"What did I tell you?" I whispered, leaning down again. "I told you to shut up, didn't I?"

He nodded meekly and I swore he was about to cry. Most of the people told me I was the biggest asshole they had ever met. And also, they told me that I was a beast; a monster even, especially when I was mad. But I did not give a damn. They could think anything of me.

Ezerette fanned his face with his hand and he blew. It amused me to see him acting this way. Even when he was in the worst situation, he still had a guts to be sassy. I pulled away and kept my gaze on him as he fidgeted.

"I'll put you on roll now, so be prepared." I said icily. I harshly grabbed his arm and we exited .y office.
He cried out in pain and tried to get my hand off of his arm. I didn't care if I was being rough or harsh, but we needed to act as soon as possible. He kept throwing curses at me that only made me grip his arm harder. He whimpered and lost the strength to pry my hand away.

I punched the UG button and we waited until we got down to the first floor. When we got out of the elevator, most people, or should I say all of the employees, were glancing at us. This madness had to end.
While we were walking through the hall, me practically dragging Ezerette, he was being childish and started to throw a cuss on me. I kept glaring at him and every once in a while, he would shut up.
But then my plan had been ruined when I saw Mr. Westborrow walking across the hall, to my direction. He quickly recognized me and walked a little quick. I mumbled about the bad timing. Mr. Westborrow greeted me and lost the grip of Ezerette's arm. He massaged it and gave me an icy glare. He then look at Mr. Westborrow and his face lightened up from recognition.

"Philip!" Ezerette said, smiling from ear to ear.

"Oi," Mr. Westborrow was kind of shocked to see Ezerette here. I frowned in confusion. Where did they meet? What did they know each other? "Nice seeing you here, Ezerette."

"Yeah, you too, Philip." Ezerette replied, still smiling. "What are you doing here in this damn building?" He growled. I glared at him.

"Well, I had to talk to Mr. Thompson about his presentations," Mr. Westborrow said, waving his head.
Ezerette's smile grew wicked and he looked at me. I scowled at him and he looked back at Mr. Westborrow.

"You know, Philip," Ezerette began. Something was not right. I narrowed my eyes at Ezerette and he smirked. This bastard! "Cancel it, Philip. This man is an asshole. I never thought you were a businessman, Philip. But now I know, I suggest you stop considering being partnered with this one high, Grade 10, complete A-hole. He'll just ruin the business."

I clenched my teeth and shut my eyes. Mr. Westborrow furrowed his brows, as if he was considering what Ezerette said. He would pay for this. Mr. Westborrow was important. I couldn't afford to lose the deal. My goal would perish if I let him go.

Looking at me, Mr. Westborrow looked at me with judging eyes. He had seen what happened earlier, me basically dragging Ezerette. He nodded slowly and muttered an 'I guess you're right' to Ezerette's direction and my eyes widen.

No. This couldn't be happening. I stared at him in shock as I thought of words; a good and pleasant to hear ones, to make him consider his decision. I'd lose him and my dreal would vanish. I frantically searched for my mind to say something to have him stopped. But none. Glaring daggers at Ezerette, who was smiling smugly at me, a light bulb basically lit up above my head.

My lips formed a smile.

"Oh, please, Mr. Westborrow," I said to him, smiling innocently. "My husband and I are just having a lover's quarrel. Right, babe?"

And there was Ezerette, staring at me with wide eyes, as if he couldn't believe what just happened, mouth agape.

"Husband?" Mr. Westborrow asked me. His confusion grew large as he looked between Ezerette and I. I nodded furiously. "You guys are married?"

"Yes, we are married, Mr. Westborrow." I told him and slung my arm over Ezerette's neck and gave him a sloppy kiss on his cheek. He was still staring at me wide eyes. "Now, Mr. Westborrow, I'm sorry about what my husband told you, but we can talk about this. Babe, I'm sorry. Forgive me, please?" My smile grew wider as Ezerette stammered for words.

Payback, bitch.

Mr. Westborrow looked at Ezerette with amusement and he chuckled. I won. Looking at Ezerette, I pecked his cheek once again and he huffed in anger.

Right now, I had to keep acting like Ezerette and I were married. This would stop Mr. Westborrow from cancelling the partnership. With that in mind, I motioned for Mr. Westborrow to follow me while my free hand grabbed Ezerette's hand and we went back to my office.

For the mean time, Ezerette would be my husband.