Chapter Two

Bella's POV

I screeched as an idea popped up in an imaginary bulb on my head. I couldn't believe I didn't think of it earlier.

"Excuse me, sir. Could we stop at a hotel or saloon or something?" I asked courteously.

"Please, call me Lukas. And your parents ordered strictly to bring you home at exactly 4 pm," He replied sternly.

"It's pretty urgent. Please," I begged, not wanting to sell myself out.

"But ma'am - "

Bella, you could do better than this. Bella think.

"It's - " I fidgeted a bit with shaky fingers before looking up and clearing my throat. "An order," I completed.

I could tell he stared at me through the mirror and muttered something to himself before speaking up.

"Yes of course," he nodded with a smile I could tell was fake.

"We need to be at the mansion. What are you doing? You know how strict your parents can be about your whereabouts. Let's go," Mr. Grumpy said in a little but very angry tone and topped it all with a killer look.

"I just need to get something and change up a bit and - " I was short of words and realized he didn't care much, so I just shut my mouth to prevent things from becoming a lot more awkward.

Lukas pulled over in front of a huge hotel and I looked up in awe. Beautiful window glasses and a big nice open space at the side. The light blue reflections of the sky shone on the spotless glasses, mirroring it perfectly and producing a  ravishing view.

"Lukas, I need to get my purse," I said, not sure if Mercedes even had one in her bags.

"Oh, ma'am. You never actually got your emergency credit card out of your limo," He smiled faintly and handed it to me.

The limo's mine. Damn!

"Oh, yeah. Thanks," I nodded and came down from the car. The angry sun raged its scorching heat on me and I hurried into the hotel.

It was even more beautiful on the inside. It had these nice chairs just in the reception and a large that TV hung on the wall which was neatly painted golden yellow with Chandelier's highlighting the beauty, lighting up the five-star hotel. The patterned floors were crystalline, making it adorably enchanting and not to talk of the paintings that stood side by side and sculptures at the incredibly breathtaking edges.

"Good day, Miss Mercedes and welcome to M.Deluxe. The company has been running smoothly and we have drastically increased over the years. Very lovely to see you once again ma'am," the receptionist acknowledged with bourgeoning excitement that protruded through her lips into an instant ear-to-ear grin.

"Good morning I mean -  a good day to you. I'm sorry, what exactly do you mean by M. Deluxe?" I asked, having an insight that Mercedes owns this dazzling hotel.

"M. Deluxe," she chuckled a bit, revealing her beautiful piano white teeth and cute charming dimples by the sides of her mouth.

"M. Deluxe as in Mercedes Deluxe. You own the hotel, so it's named after you. As in, Mercedes, your first name and deluxe for the luxury you put into it," she chimed in with a graceful smile and a wink I suggest wasn't really necessary.

Oh. My. Wow.

"I see," I nodded as I felt dizzy with excitement.

"Miss Mercedes, your private suite is ready in the VIP lounge and your secretary has been waiting for you for quite a while. We almost thought you would bail,"

"Secretary? Can you help me with the way? I don't know, it's been long since my last visit," I shrugged.

"Of course, ma'am. You don't have to ask," she replied enthusiastically and we took the elevator to the "VIP lounge".

We had a little chat as I tried to ask her things about Mercedes and where she had been but it seemed she only knew as far as her workplace provided and kept the rest of the conversation lame with her chuckles.

"Here ma'am," she pointed at a beautiful door and headed back to the elevator. She disappeared before I could even thank her.

I heaved a deep sigh before inhaling, exhaling and finally opening the door.

It was beautiful. Amazing, astonishing, bewildering, flabbergasting, I don't know how else to describe it.

The room was like a perfect magazine cover. I was afraid to sit in case I wrinkle the fabric or stain it with something I don't even know is on my pants. The couch was cream but inlaid with fine green silk, leaves embroidered so delicately that they might have landed there in spring and just sunk in, but I know they took hundreds of hours to sew. The white curtains were linen, the kind of white that is untouched by hands and devoid of dust. There was a bookshelf, a large television, a beautiful settee and a dressing table by the end of the room.

I beamed cheerfully as I walked in slowly, my uggs taking every step like a mystery. I stood in front of each photo and scanned each with my eyes lingering on every detail. They were all Mercedes's and were truly works of art.

It was like looking at the better version of me. The refined remade and polished version of Arabella. She was stunning in those photos.

The nude shots though disturbing, also displayed the true meaning and beauty of femininity and just arose some unusual vibes in me. I loved it particularly because of the emotions it emitted.

Everywhere. Everything was just perfect.

"Mercedes?"

I turned around slowly and fixed my gaze on a young lady. She had a sculpted figure which was twine thin as well as a burnished complexion. A pair of arched eyebrows looked down on sweeping eyelashes. A set of dazzling angel white teeth gleamed as she smiled at me, her face almost wrinkling with excitement.

I smiled at her, informed she's my secretary and then spoke up with a bemused smile.

"Hey, secretary - "

"Banks! Remember?" she raised a brow and walked briskly towards me.

"Oh, yeah. Banks. Nice to meet you after a very very long time," I stretched my arm out for a handshake.

She roughly pulled me in and I was completely drenched in her seemingly warm embrace. Her fluffy beautiful tiger skin coat itched my body a little and caused an itch in my eye.

"Sorry," she apologized as I rubbed my eyes evenly with the back of my palm.

"It's okay," I shrugged and she beamed like I was some goddess.

"It's so nice to see you again. It's been so long. Almost eight freaking years! Gosh, it was so long," she exclaimed with a slight chuckle.

"Sure is," I nodded agreeably.

She's been gone for over eight effing years!

"So, let's get down to it, shall we?" she asked and walked over to the dresser.

"Sure," I nodded and joined her.

I felt her gaze at me for ten deadly seconds before she spoke up with a disgusted look on her face.

"What in seven hells, seven seas and one heaven are you wearing?" she screamed aloud.

I took a long stare at my clothing and totally agreed with her unnecessary actions. She knitted her brows and pursed her lips, walking over to me.

"You really changed over those eight years. This outfit is so a trillion trends ago. And your hair. Fuck it with that lame brunette. What happened to the blonde? Your fingernails. You always had those Cardi Style nails, and you never had them done without neon. Your eyes, your face, everything's so gloomy, so boring and tasteless. Those clothes are just the peak of it all. They look like barf. Mercedes!" she whined.

"I just had a- "

"Never mind, I'll just fix you up but you need to visit the mall," she snapped and grabbed the brush, starting her work.

°°°°°°°°°°

"Voilà!" she vociferated in excitement.

I stood up and gave myself a very long gaze at the mirror. More than beautiful, it was perfect. The makeover was a perfect transformation and showed more of me than eyes hidden under huge glasses and an overloaded brain. The hairdo is a perfect ponytail and little curled strands coming down was just beautiful and the orphan blue peplum dress was gorgeous. I immediately fell in love with myself.

"So, what'd you think?" she hollered, eaten up by suspense of my comment.

"Banks, it is really pretty. I love it!" I trilled cheerfully as I kept switching sides to see the whole view of the look.

"Thank you, ma'am. I perfected over the years," she beamed as she tidied up her materials into a previous black suitcase.

"You are a natural!" I exclaimed and grabbed my phone, headed to the bathroom.

Immediately, I dialled Dar. Her help was necessitated.

"Hello? Bella? Is that you? Are you in college? How is it over there? Are there cute boys, sassy girls and oh, oh! Are there hot boys riding on killer race bikes with gorgeous hair and breathtaking perfumes? Tell me, tell me!" She cried out.

"Um, actually, I ran into a little problem. Just a teeny bitsy problem," I uttered, pacing from one end of the loo to the other.

"What's the problem? Bella, tell me you're safe. Please," she replied worriedly and I rolled my eyes in fear.

"Well," I started, not knowing exactly how to reveal the truth to her. She'll kill me over the phone.

"Well, what?" she barked impatiently.

I inhaled, exhaled, shook off my fear and finally spilled it all out in a second.

"I couldn't find my box when you left and all of a sudden a guy got me. I thought he was from the university so I went with him. On the plane I found out I was on a first-class flight and then the attendant informed we were on the way to Los Angeles, so I think I got mistaken for a celebrity or something. Her name is Mercedes and I have no idea what to do. I'm currently on my way to her mansion to meet her parents and I'm totally panicking. You see, there's no problem! Bye," I speed talked.

"Wait, wait wait," she upbraided.

Here goes nothin' good.

"Plane - first-class - Angeles - Mercedes - lost - family. What the freaking hell, girl!" She fumed with fury and blasted my poor eardrums over the phone.

"I know, I messed up. I don't know what to do. Please help me out," I begged.

"Help you out? Mercedes? Do you mean Mercedes Pandora Belgravia?" she trailed off.

"Yes! Yes! That's Her!" I ranted in enthusiastic excitement.

"Okay, do you not know who Mercedes is?" she scolded in what sounded like disappointment.

"No. I don't. Why?" I speculated.

"Mercedes Pandora Belgravia, celebrity name, Mercedes, is a big-time worldwide billionaire. She's an actor, blogger, fashion idol, fashionista, designer, and most of all, a big-time goddess of social media! In just a week with a new account, she gained over twenty million followers on Instagram. You're still battling with one, which happens to be me," she sighed loudly.

"What do I do?" I trembled.

"Okay, first of all, you have to calm down and don't panic. Are you calm?" she asked.

"Yes," I shuddered.

"Bella, you have no idea what you've gotten yourself into. These people are money gods. They have no business with people like us. Bella, you need to tell them what's happening. I'm sorry but I'm not with you on this one," she said in a pale tone.

"Dar - " I trailed off.

"Mercedes!" Banks yelled.

"Dar, I really need to go now. Later?" I asked.

"Sure. Please be careful and keep me posted. Ma and pa will be so worried when they find out," she voiced out in quiet empathy.

"Don't tell them," I spoke up immediately.

"Mercedes? Are you still in there?" Banks yelled again.

"Just a minute," I yelled back.

"But Bella. You know - "

"Until I find a way out. Please,"

"Fine. Please take care. I love you and one thing! At the lunch, don't forget she addresses her mum as mamasita and her dad as Papi. All her fans know that and - just be safe, sis."

"Thanks, Dar. Call you later," I hung up, dressed a little and then headed out.

"What took you years in there?" She queried, peeping through the door I left half-open.

"Nothing. Just nothing much," I smiled approvingly.

"Well okay," She shrugged and lowered her head to her tablet. "They're all waiting for you. You should be on your way,"

"Banks," I called out.

"Yeah?" she asked, raising her head from the tablet.

"Am I the same?"

"Yeah. At least now," she smiled.

I was quiet for a moment before finally asking, "Who am I?"

She laughed. "You really have no time here, ma'am."

"Please - "

"You need to be on your way. Your Papi and Mamasita must be waiting already," she cut me off before even letting out something good.

Papi and Mamasita...

I sighed with a frown before saying, "Okay. Thanks a bunch."

I grabbed the small purse, placing my phone in it and headed for the elevator in a hurry.

Mercedes, who are you?

Author's Note.

Hey! Thanks for reading this chapter. It means a lot.

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PaulyQueen.