Note : Important chapter coming up!
One P.M, fifteen minutes and four seconds.
I kept on staring at my wristwatch, getting the urge to break something. Daniel was late, just as he had said yesterday. Although, I wasn't sure he was serious at that time.
Unfortunately, he was. If one more minute passes, I swear I'm done with this. I had leave for Chicago in a flight today, at twelve noon, but this palooka made me cancel it. If he doesn't come in here in another minute, I'm leaving for good.
Although, all this does surprise me a lot. Why would he, one of the most successful business, have a picture of Jess? She wasn't a model or a daughter of someone socially important. Then why?
Does he have any ties with her? No, that's impossible.
But what if she was his long, lost sister or something? That would be so unnatural. If that'd be the case, then Jess will definitely be above me in the market hierarchy, considering her brother's money.
One P.M, sixteen minutes and seven seconds.
And my patience flies away out the window. I get up, fuming with anger. How dare he not show up for a meeting with me? Doesn't he realise that I'm a busy man?
Just as I was leaving from my office, I crashed into someone. I grunted on the impact and immediately glared at the person who dare do such a thing. I expected to meet the eyes of some poor servant who was about to be fired by me, but instead I saw someone else.
"You've decided to show up, at last, Mr. Winston," I said.
"Yes, I noticed that too. I suppose it's a little obvious, as I'm standing at the entrance to your office," he replied.
"You very well are, just sixteen minutes late," I spoke, my temper rising. "I'm done with you. We'll have to arrange a meeting another time. I have somewhere to be."
"Well, that's a pity. Because I won't be this willing to share my personal business with a man I don't even know," he shook his head.
"Oh, you don't know me. Well, I'm Elliot Smith," I answered. "Unhappy to meet you."
"I'm serious, Smith," he snarled. "I'm not here to waste my time. Either we talk now or never."
"Nothing about my time you wasted?" I questioned, raising an eyebrow.
"Running a successful company does that to you," he shrugged. "Now, do you want to know why I have your...girlfriend's, I suppose, picture?"
"She-she's not my girlfriend," I muttered, looking down. "Let's talk then."
That's how I ended up sitting on a comfortable sofa, sipping coffee, right across my business rival.
Definitely not fun, I say.
"Why do you have her picture?" I ask. "And don't you dare make-up stories, because I demand proof for everything you utter."
"Don't take this talk for granted, Smith," he growled. "Consider it a favour."
"I shall consider it whatever I wish to," I snapped. "You have no right to do me a favour without me asking for it."
"Useless talking to you," he muttered. "And your short-temper."
"Just start giving me my answers already," I said.
"Alright," he took a deep breath and muttered something incoherent. "So, it all started back in December, 2001. I-I didn't have any money or a business, and was practically on the streets," he began.
"Do you have a picture of yourself back then? If yes, I'd love to see it," I interrupted him.
"Shut up, Smith. Let me continue. Remember, this is a favour. I'm telling you all this because you know her, it seems. I know you're desperate to know the reason too," he smirked.
"Continue," I said, blandly.
"I had pick-pocketed some money, and had bought a few glasses of vodka. All in all, I was completely and utterly drunk out of my mind. I had also met this one old guy in the bar, and we started talking. He seemed cool, and told me that he wanted me to marry his daughter. Me, being-"
"Why would anyone want a drunk thief as their son-in-law?" I questioned.
"Maybe because he was drunk too. I agreed immediately, happy that I could finally have a girl all to myself. He took me to his house, gave me loads of food and then to illegal marriage bureau. I-I saw his daughter, she was struggling to run away, and her dad, the guy I met, was forcing her to sign on some of the pages that would announce us husband and wife."
"But she declined his offer completely. He seemed quite angry with that and told me to wait as he dragged his daughter out of the office. After, maybe half an hour, he returned with his daughter, who was muttering incoherent words. She seemed different, like a drunk person. She signed the papers quickly and tried to say something, but her words were slurred together."
He sighed, massaging his temples.
"Obviously, I did not care at that moment. I just smiled and went off to God knows where. Next day, I realised what I had done. I had ruined my life. I ran to the very same marriage bureau, and asked for divorce papers. They said that they can't give it to me now, but later. Rather, they handed me over a stack of papers approving our marriage."
"I stared at them, and then locked them in the deepest pit of my wardrobe. I decided to forget all of this, and start all over. And with that decision, I became the chairman of one of the most successful companies in the world," he ended, with a triumphant smile on his face.
"And that's just the short version of what happened," he shrugged.
"So...where does she come into this?" I asked, with an eyebrow raised.
"You mean Jessica? C'mon, Smith. Don't play dumb," he muttered. "There was only one female character in this story, after all."
"That girl-" I spoke with horror, as my eyes continued to widen in size.
It can't be. Whiney, my Whiney, can't be married to this old jerk who is also a billionaire.
It just can't. All this is just too surreal.
"Yes. It was Jessica Walkers. I've been looking for her," he said, ignoring the horrified look on my face. "I think you know where she lives."
No...no. This is...impossible...
"But why? For a divorce?" I asked, still in shock.
"Unfortunately, no. I wish I could do that, but haven't you seen the news? People know that I'm married," he shook his head. "Someone got the pictures of those papers that approved our marriage to the media. And now, they wouldn't shut up about it."
"Wait, wait, wait. What do you mean? You'll take her as your wife, now?" I question, bewildered.
All this was slightly too much for my mind to comprehend. Slightly.
"I have to, against my will. I can't let the media know that those documents were created for an illegal marriage, it's a question about my reputation," he took a deep breath. "And obviously, I can't divorce her. The media will go ballistic if they hear that. The headline of tomorrow's paper would be 'Mr. Winston, secretively married since sixteen years and takes divorce when news spreads.'."
"You can't just ruin her life for your reputation!" I yell, staring at him.
"Come on, Smith," he said with a small laugh. "Obviously, you'd do the same."
This time, I've got nothing to say because I know I would. I would do almost anything to maintain my reputation, even if it meant hurting someone. I look down, silently admitting the fact that I would.
"So, where does she live? And you seem to know her well, eh?" He asks, with a smirk.
"If I tell you where she is right now, will you take her as your wife?" I questioned, anticipating the answer.
"Yes, I will. I have to," he replied. I smiled slightly, formulating a plan. Sorry Whiney, I have to give you up.
Ashford Miller, if she can't be mine, then she sure as hell won't be yours.
Ah, bad, bad Elliot.
There are gonna be like 3 or four more chapters and then epilogue and done. Over. This book's officially done.