Caught me off guard [Complete]

Chapter 1/8

Kong's POV

I flipped over for the hundredth time, the smooth silk sheet under me feeling like prickly gravel against my skin. What insane moment in my life had I decided that I needed this ginormous bed to roll around in, when the last time it had an occupant other than me was...., hell, I can't even remember when last I shared a bed with someone. The vast emptiest around me feeling like an endless abyss that was just waiting to consume me whole.

What made the lonely nights that much more unbearable was that I could clearly hear the distinct rustling of my husband on the other side of the wall. A muted whistle as he went about his nightly activities completely unaware of the torture he put me through.

I muffled a deep groan in my pillow once again as I heard the washroom door shut with a click, my masochistic brain immediately picturing him clad only in a thin towel, hung low across his waist, as he ruffled through his closet for his pajamas.

In the eight months of our marriage I had happened to walk by his slightly ajar door just once when I saw his near naked state, water dripping tantalizingly from his hair onto his shoulders and chest as hummed melodies while peering into the wardrobe. And that one moment was enough to sear the image forever into my brain.

Now every single time I heard a humming through the frustratingly thin walls, my brain would automatically conjure up the image that would have me tossing and turning uncomfortably for endless hours. Unfortunately for me, it happened every bloody night. I swear it has been months since I have managed anything more than a few short hours of sleep and that too only thanks to sheer exhaustion.

Well, serves me right for falling in love with my husband after idiotically being the one who had proposed the platonic, absolutely no emotions involved marriage contract for purely business purposes.

What can I say, eight months ago it seemed like a perfect little solution. Neatly tying up so many loose threads that not for a second did I think the possibility of such an annoying complication.

You see last year when my crabby old grandfather died he decided the last thing he wanted to do before he graced us with his forever absence was to ensure my life was a living hell. And if it sounds like I have a certain distaste for the old man, you are fairly observant. Cause I hated him. Hate actually being a rather mild word. Seems weird since he was my only closest relative and had raised me since the age of 3 after my parents had tragically died in a plane crash.

He was strict, and demanding, and cranky. Oh and also insanely, insanely wealthy. The sole owner of a conglomerate so large that one can easily buy a few tiny countries. Actually I am sure at some point he had even tried to. And as his sole heir he had groomed me as his successor since the day he got me within his grabby paws.

And as if turning me into a workaholic, over-stressed, mechanical, emotionless loner wasn't bad enough, right on his deathbed he adds into his will the insane demand that to get even a cent of my inheritance I need to be married for atleast 3 years. Something about how people don't take bachelors seriously enough in the world of high business.

Are you fucking kidding me!

In my 27 years if he had given me even a second to contemplate going on one freaking date I would have already managed to find someone to be romantically involved with. But no, instead the senile old man decided to torture me some more, and with his dying breath demanded my nuptials otherwise the entire estate gets distributed amongst the remaining aunts and uncles and cousins. And somehow there seemed to be quite a few of them coming out from the woodworks.

I am close to 70% sure my grandfather has been successful in pouring some of his twisted logic into my brain cause as soon as I heard the blasted will, other than letting out a string of curses he thoroughly deserved, my very first thought was who would be the potential candidates I can fake marry for three years.

It's just three years right? What was the big deal. Not that I had any intentions of involving actual romance or feelings into the picture. It would be exactly like one of the thousand business deals I have made. A contract with the opposite party for a set number of years, with predetermined rules, that terminate at the end of the negotiated period. Plain and simple. If my grandfather can come up with an insane criteria for me to get my inheritance, I can come up with an equally insane solution. Now all that was left was to find someone I could trust who was desperate enough to put with up my quirky ass for three years.

I think it took me less than an evening to come up with the perfect solution as I stared at the cover of some stray tabloid.

Arthit Rojnapat.

The Rojnapat's had been family friends for generations, although how can anyone be friends with my grandfather is beyond me, but that's beside the point. Arthit and my parent's apparently used to move around in the same circles, and were actually quite thick at one point. Arthit and I even attended the same school for a period of time although he was a couple of years my senior. Even though over the years we haven't stayed in touch too much, I only have fond, pleasant memories of our time together.

Somewhere along the line though as my grumpy grandpa quadrupled his empire, the Rojnapat's began their imminent decline. In-fighting between siblings, some rumored money laundering by a criminal account, and more than a few extremely unlucky decisions had left their company on the brink of collapse. Their last gasp at survival was Arthit taking over the reigns of the company. And that is when the last straw dropped.

The poor man was ditched by his soon to be bride. Literally at the altar. With tons of paparazzi circling around like sharks to capture every possibly embarrassing moment in the man's life. His face splashed across the front page of every cheap magazine for months. Which obviously did very little in helping him turn around the state of his company.

So let's do a quick trait count for our potential candidate.

Pleasant? Check.

Trustworthy? Check.

Desperate? Double check.

It was actually easier than I thought to come up with the terms of our contract. My company to take over his and pump in as much financial help as it required to turn things around while he essentially still remained in charge of it. In return we would get married. In name only of course.

We would have separate bedrooms. Separate lives. Sign an iron clad pre-nup. Basically live our life exactly like we would have in any other scenario. The only difference, we would be housemates that were contractually obligated to live under the same roof for three years. What could possibly go wrong?

And then I had to go and fucking fall in love with him.