All Chapters of UNWANTED BRIDE : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Jake. She looked a little bit familiar to me, is all that was going on in my head. I had seen her before, I had interacted with her before in some sort of way or form.I had never really looked at her before, Atleast not this much. But something about her was bugging me and I needed to find out why. Why she looked familiar. I got out my phone and immediately sent out a text to my private investigator. "Get me everything you can on my new assistant, Lila Moreno. " I hit send and put my phone back in my pocket before I turned to face her."We should probably ride back together to the hospital since I am your fiancee." I said pressing the elevator buttons.I almost didn't notice, but I caught her looking at her ring finger which was empty. "Well, it's a little hard to believe that I am indeed your fiancee with no ring on my finger don't you think?" she said in the most charming yet sarcastic way ever that I smiled.I liked her sarcasm, it was hard to find a woman who has her own min

Lila. An hour later we both walked out of the hospital for the surgery date for Kyle. Jake ’s cellphone rang. " Luca.” He paused for a moment. “Yes. Go ahead and put me down for one hundred thousand.” He paused again, and I could hear a man’s excited chatter on the other end. “Not at all. It’s a worthy cause. Thank you. You too.” He ended the call and put his phone back in his suit pocket.“Was that for a charity?” I asked, feeling something soften inside of me., how many charities did he support. He nodded briskly. “A charity that provides financial support for the families of children with special needs. I make frequent donations to them.”“That’s nice of you.” I said genuinely shocked. He stopped walking. “I’m not a nice man, Lila . The sooner you realize that, the easier your life will be for the next twelve months.”“But you donated all that money…” I trailed off.“And it benefits me. It will be a very high profile donation. Philanthropy can be good for business.” He turned

Jake“Are you ready,” I said, in a tone I wasn’t certain was complimentary. I assessed her slowly, my brown eyes taking a leisurely tour of her sexy body. I was certain I was making her uncomfortable. “Typical female behavior demands that you keep me waiting for at least half an hour.” I joked“I haven’t picked up my copy of The Rules lately, so I must be out of the loop,” She said waspishly.I chose to ignore her biting retort and let my eyes roam over her body again.“Don’t you think it’s a little chilly out for a dress that skimpy?" I asked, accessing her. The dress ended well above her knees, showing off killer legs I had never seen before. She had done a great Job hiding those killer legs under those huge pants she was used to wearing. “Skimpy?” she tugged at the hem, as if trying to add length to it. “It’s perfectly decent. Besides, it’s all I had that was appropriately feminine for you.” she said it sweetly, but I could feel her sarcasm oozing through which was annoying an

Jake The phone had been ringing all morning, all afternoon, all day. How reporters had gotten hold of the extension to access my office line, I didn’t know. Once the phone stopped ringing I would have to interrogate my staff.Granted, I wanted press. That was the point of the arrangement. But I certainly didn’t want the them to have personal access to me. It was my PA’s job to field phone calls, and I paid her handsomely for it.The trip to Tiffany’s had done its job, just as I had planned. The picture of Lila and I entering Tiffany’s together, and exiting holding the telltale robin’s egg blue bags, had spawned a host of articles in every news source from the New York Times to TMZ the latter speculating that it was a Mafia arrangement. My Italian heritage was all I could credit for the creation of that rumor. But then, when did a tabloid need anything silly like facts to come up with a story?That, combined with strategically leaked information about my reservations at La Paz, a tren

Lila.The petite hair dresser talked animatedly while she worked, waving her scissors every now and then to emphasize her point. She put a row of foils on the top of my hair, turning it a lighter, less brassy shade, and cut six inches off the length, bringing it up so that it just skimmed my collarbone, and added long layers to give it body and movement.The man, Giorgio, was there for make-up and, I wasn’t terribly surprised to hear, eyebrow waxing. My face was scrubbed and peeled and waxed and finally painted.Giorgio stepped back and examined me like an artist looking at his masterpiece.“I’m brilliant,” he said as he handed me a mirror.I barely recognized the woman looking back at me. I had fun, modern hair that looked full and healthy. My face glowed, probably from the gold powder that Giorgio had brushed all over it, and my eyes looked larger and brighter with the expertly applied eyeshadow and my newly shaped brows. I hated so much to admit that it was an improvement. But it w