Married To The Douchebag of the Century

Chapter 1

Josh's POV:

"DAMNIT!" I yelled slamming my fist down onto the desk, causing Sam to jump a bit in the corner. What a girl. Our scrawny servant boy or 'butler' as he called himself back into the corner at my rage. I would always just see him as servant even if we were the same age. I glared my cold eyes at my grey-haired father who sat coldly and calmly in his seat. "You can't do this to me Father!" I growled angrily gripping the edge of the desk, "That's my rightful money!" Father did not seem effected by my rant; in fact his face showed no response what so ever.

Instead of responding, he simply opened up the top drawer of his desk. Reaching inside, he pulled out a stack of magazines and stacked them in front of me. Looking at them, they were rather recent all dating 2012. Looking at the front cover, it was me with an outraged look as my fist was inches away from a paparazzi's face as a camera lied smashed on the ground. So what? Some asshole paparazzi got up in my face, I'm sick of them following me around. I'm an heir, not an actor, not a singer, not anyone they need to be following. They just go after me because I'm the youngest billionaire in England. Well was the youngest billionaire.

My father, Charles Castro, pulled it back revealing the next one. It was me, completely drunk at a bar dancing with about five other girls. So freaking what, guys dance all the time. Bloody hell, what point was he trying to make? That I was a guy? That magazine was titled Billion-heir out of Control. Had to admit that was rather clever. He kept showing me magazines. The next was about my two week trip to rehab. Another was about how I failed out of the university within the first two weeks. How I was a player and the cover showed various pictures of me and a bunch of girls. Another was about my last-minute vacation to Dubai. Next about me cheating on my 'girlfriend', who actually wasn't a girl friend just some random model I had met for a night. After going through all of them my father knocked them off my desk and looked up at me angrily. "Your point is?" I asked him bored.

"My point?" Father repeated showing anger in my eyes. "My point is that you are out of control!" He stood up from his desk so that he was eye level with me. "I did not raise you like this. My only son. I raised you to be a deserving heir, a proper business man who I would trust with my company when I'm gone one day." He paused and stared at me. His words didn't faze me. My father is the owner of a company that purchases land and other businesses all over the world. "And this is how you repay me?" He motioned the pile of magazines lying on the floor. "By embarrassing me?" Now there was true anger and disappointment on his face, yet did I care? No.

"Oh hell Father, get over it." I snapped and rolled my eyes.

"You're an arrogant, spoiled git!" He yelled at me while I rolled my eyes. Like I've never heard those words before. "Don't roll your eyes at me. See, this just proves how immature you are. Get it together. You are twenty three years old and have never worked a day through life. You only made it through required school because of my name and didn't last two weeks in the university you went too." I shrugged, like I need to go to a university.

I didn't need to work. What's the point? His business is already a billion dollar company. With my mother gone it was just him and I left. He was in his late sixties; the money would one day all be mine. Except for the fact that I'm frozen from his account! My credit card, everything is all unavailable to me. My own person bank account has about two million, that wouldn't last me though. Not even a year, not the way I have been living and I don't plan on changing any time soon. "No more money, either live with what you have or get a damn job if you plan on keep acting the way you have been." He continued yelling at me.

"Let's get straight to the point. What do you want from me?" I interrupted, bored of his ongoing rant of things I've heard many times before. "What will get me back to not being frozen from your benefits?" Father glared at me for a moment.

"I want no more of this!" He screamed motioning towards the pile of magazines on the floor. "Every day I wake up to a new magazine, newspaper article, or television broadcast about how you are out of control. I worked hard to get to where I am, I started with nothing. Either get a grip on reality and calm down, or live with what you have." We stared at each other for a moment. "Now get out of my office."

Rolling my eyes, I turned around and walked out of the room. Glaring at Sam as he shuffled through the books and dusted them on my father's shelf. Eavesdropper. Slamming the French doors behind me I walked out into the living room and kicked over a table as it crashed onto the ground breaking a leg off.

Walking out onto the balcony that over looked the village in the distance, had to admit it was a priceless view, I gripped the stonewall. Leaning over it I had to think. Give up my fun exciting life for money? Or live a boring life with unlimited money. I had to think of a way I could have the best of both worlds. Kicking the wall I sighed in anger.

I had been standing there for an hour when annoying bells were ringing. Glancing up I watched as a carriage and parade of limos and cars drove down towards the village. I groaned, weddings were so corny and predictable. People came here from all over the world to get married because of the scenery. Weddings...wait a minute. Weddings, when people settle down for once. That's when my best idea of all time would hit me.

I would get married. To who, I don't know or care at the moment. It couldn't be that hard, I mean any girl would be thrilled to marry me. I have the looks, power, and wealth. Who wouldn't want that? If I married, than father would think I was settling down to a simpler life. Giving me a mass amount of money, probably a portion of his business and then, I could simply go back to my all time fun lifestyle. Now, I just needed to find someone to marry. How hard could that be?