ONE

Elvira

" You've got this, Elvira," I say to myself as I drive carefully down the road leading downtown. I'm on my way to the clerk's office to pick up my marriage certificate. A bead of sweat trickles down my forehead as I try to keep my nerves in check.

"You'll be fine meeting a total stranger who's supposed to be your husband," I assure myself, my grip on the steering wheel tightening. "But..." I think again, my mind racing. "What if he's ugly? What if he's weird? What if he's dangerous?" My heart begins to pound in my chest as I imagine all the worst-case scenarios.

It wasn't my decision to get married; I was forced by my mother who arranged a marriage between me and a total stranger I've never met before.

Two years ago, I had my heart broken by the man I thought I loved; on the day of our marriage, I was left standing on the aisle like a deranged lunatic, waiting for my prince charming to pick me up.

This experience made me not believe in love, making me get married just to fulfill my mother's desires.

After a few minutes of driving, I arrive at my destination and quickly get out of the car. Standing just a little farther away from me is a tall, slender man with broad shoulders. His back is faced towards me, but judging from his stature which screams intimidation, he sure is a handsome man.

He's putting on a black tuxedo with his dark hair slicked backwards.

Lost in thought, I stare at the man's yummy physique. I'm so caught up in my thoughts that I don't notice him turning around to face me directly. Our eyes meet, and I feel a rush of warmth and embarrassment flood through my body.

Suddenly, he starts walking towards me with a straight face.

"Are you Elvira Gray?" The man asks as he approaches me.

In front of me stands a man who looks like he has been carved from marble, his face a perfect example of Greek beauty. His well-defined features are enhanced by small, gray eyes that glint with a hint of danger and intimidation. His lips are small and pink, adding to his sexy appeal. His nose is straight and pointy, completing the picture of a handsome and seductive man.

I feel as though I might turn into a puddle of chocolate, melting under his gaze. His voice is deep and sexy, and I Can't help but feel as though my insides have been transformed into a gooey mess.

"Miss?" The man's voice rings out again with a hint of annoyance in it.

I snap back to reality. "Oh...ye...yes," I stutter with embarrassment. "I am Elvira Gray. Are you Demetrius Quentin?"

"Yes," he replies curtly, before turning and walking away.

I think to myself, "How rude!" A frown spreads across my face as I quickly start to follow him. "Hold up!" I call out behind him, trying to catch up with his pace.

He slows down, waiting for me to catch up. "What is the matter?" he asks as I reach where he stands, his voice void of any emotions. He sounds like he's talking with one of his clients in his workplace.

"I just wanted to ask a few questions before we get our official marriage certificate," I say as we continue walking.

"Which is?" he asks again.

"Well... I... I would like to know if... if," I pant heavily before I can complete my statement.

He notices my discomfort and slows down again so that I won't have to run to meet him.

"Thanks," I mutter before continuing. "Well, I am sorry to say, but I was literally forced by my own mother to marry you. It was never my intention to get married."

"I see," Demetrius simply says, his gaze straight ahead. "Why did you agree to marry me then?" he asks.

"I have already told you, I was forced by my mother," I reply with an eye-roll.

"If you didn't want to marry me, you should have told your mother earlier," he says again, his voice cold and deep.

"Do you think I didn't try?" I ask with a snort.

He halts his stride to face me, his expression stern and his eyes narrowed. This sudden act of his makes me tremble slightly with fear. Demetrius looks intimidating, his huge stature towering above my petite figure.

"What is it?" I manage to say, trying to make my fear unnoticed.

"I don't like women who talk a lot," he says, his icy voice dripping with annoyance.

"And I don't like men who are always angry," I shoot back, trying to look bold and sassy, but deep down, I'm shaking with fear.

"Do you even think I want to get married?" Demetrius asks as he squints his eyes. His question is rhetorical.

"Then why did you get married to me, huh?" I raise a brow.

"I got married to you because of my mother. She made me promise that I would marry you before she dies; she is suffering from Lung cancer," he replies.

"Oh," I say with a guilty expression. "I... I... didn't know, I'm sorry."

"I don't need your apology," he spits, his voice dripping with menace.

Once again, I feel my insides burn with fury as I think to myself, "This man is very annoying!"

"I can see you are quite savage, Mister," I say as I smile briefly, fighting so hard to keep my anger in check.

Demetrius scoffs as he stares at me with his icy gaze. "Don't think I would keep you by my side forever."