Chapter Five

Bella's POV

"Yeah. Your new home. One of my most expensive properties," Mr. Kensington said as we walked into the enormous mansion.

Chandeliers dangling on the ceilings and tall windows that could light up the place in a blink. Although they were hidden away behind large scarlet red curtains which lit the parlour dimly. A centre table stood in the middle of the parlour and couches surrounded it. The length was so high it could take thirteen more of me. I felt it was much more a kingdom than merely a living room.

I looked around, really amazed. The thought of living in this Victoria island with the arrogant boy just made me shiver a bit. He'd give me an eternal cringe in just a day.

And to think I haven't gotten a thing from all my interrogations. I need help.

"I hope you two love it," Mrs. Kensington burst out in wholesome delight, turning to us with an expectant smile on her over-tanned face.

"It's lovely mum. Thank you," Caden said in the sweetest of the sweetest voices, looking around. It's like I never heard that part of his voice before. And to think he can be polite.

"Mercedes?" she waved at my face, waiting for a reply. A good one, though.

"It's lovely, ma'am. I really love how everything goes together in perfect harmony," I went on loyally handpicking my words and dumping them in her face.

"No problem querida," she smiled warmly as she walked to the bar area and inspected roughly.

"We'll be off now. We have other business meetings booked for today." Mr. Kensington said and headed for the door, his wife joining in.

"Dad, I'll come with - " Caden started like some eight-year-old.

"No, Kensington Junior! You are staying here with your fiancée today!" Mr. Kensington interrupted with a slight grin.

Kensington Junior... Ha!

"But dad!" he whined like a kid when I'm sure he's just a typical pretentious arrogant rich boy that he is!

"No buts! You are staying here, period," he spat at him and shot him a death glare.

Caden sighed dryly and curved his perfect pink lips to a pitiful frown. A frown that made my ribs crack from overwhelming laughter.

"We should be off too. The Marchesa's are waiting for us. We shouldn't be late," Mamasita remarked and picked the handbag from the stool she placed it on.

"Bye couple," Papi said as they walked out all with smiles on their faces.

"Papi - " I started.

He shut the door. Great! Just great!

Okay, I do not want to freak out. What the heck am I going to do? I mean, I can't handle this alone!

Kill me. Please.

I don't think I'll have so much problem since Caden here is a snub. A big one at that.

We stood there in the middle of the living room, not saying anything. He threaded his hand through his head and returned them to his pockets, looking heavenward.

Awkward!

I looked at him, obsessing over his personality. He turned his head at me. Our eyes locked and I did a great deal at standing there and staring.

"I - " I started, still staring into his eyes, but I couldn't finish that word. He's so good at shutting my mouth.

Oh my God!

I did not know what to say. I knew what to do, but my mouth rejected all causes of sounds. We just kept staring. And goodness did it grow weirder by the minutes. He smirked and then walked upstairs.

I heaved a sigh and looked up at him, gracefully marching his way upstairs. It looked as if he was padding across the ground rather than walking.

Sometimes I wonder where overly beautiful creatures like him come from and me without makeup. Ode to an insecure bitch.

I walked upstairs too just behind him. We walked into the bedroom and he went straight to the balcony, getting his suit off and flexing his muscles a bit.

I just sat on the bed and picked a magazine with my face on it. I mean, her face on it. I peeped through the magazine, stretching my head to see Caden. I hung my head a little above the magazine and observed like a hungry chameleon.

He lumbered inside as he moved with feline grace, and leaned against the wall, staring at me. With one foot to the wall and the other to the ground, his jacket hung across his left shoulder and his hair falling a bit to his face and arms folded across his masculine chest.

Slowly, I poked my eyes off the magazine and peeped at him. Well, it was no use since our eyes just jammed anyway and went into a deep stare.

Finally, he shoved his hair back away from his face and I turned away, placing the magazine above my face.

He lowered his head and once again, attracted my attention. "No offence, if I ever don't talk to you in this house, don't take it so personally!" He blurted offensively and bounced out, fiddling with his Rolex.

Saying no offence doesn't really make it any less offensive, and it just made me aware that the statement was meant to be offensive so he apologized in advance. Jerk!

He is this narcissistic hot-headed bad boy I always dreamed of in high school. And just like my dream guys, he's a big-time jerk.

I stood up from the comfy king-sized bed and walked indecisively to the mirror. I stared at myself in the large mirror on a whole wall in the room. It had little frames of Mercedes's photos.

I smiled, fixing my hair. Beautifully, I undid my ponytail and shook out my hair, relieved from the pins that held it in place.

I frowned as a picture of Mercedes immediately caught my attention. Where was she? What's she doing? Is she alright? I couldn't help but worry, but that's all I could do, anyways. Worry.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

"Press con, press con, press con," I whispered to myself, pacing around the room with my face looking as worried as ever.

I don't know what to say, or how to look. What if they ask me something only the real Mercedes can answer? Or what if - ugh! I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate the fact I have to live her freakish life!

I'm gonna be on TV for the first time ever in my whole life and I have this creepy stage fright that just seems annoyingly incurable.

Dipping my hand thoughtfully inside my pocket, I grabbed my phone. Immediately, I dialled Darcy, running out of ideas to calm myself and assure a hundred percent stability in the press con.

"Hey! Dar! I do not know what to do. I can't act like Mer - " I rushed out unsparingly in a tiny panicky voice.

Someone knocked.

Immediately, I hung up.

I got a robe from the wardrobe and wore it over my sports bra and shorts.

Hastily putting on the flip-flops, I tied the robe and hurried to the door, hoping it wouldn't be Caden but then who else would it be?

I opened it. Oh, shocker! It was you know who.

"What?" I bossed, opening the door and staring at him, waiting for his fat jerk face to leave his phone and say something.

He stared at his phone absentmindedly, and then smirked, looking up at me with his wayfarer blue eyes flashing fire.

"Yeah, bye!" I ticked off and closed the door, nearly suffocating on my fury.

Knock knock.

I fumed.

Reluctantly, I turned the knob and opened the door once again.

"What?" I taunted, very much disturbed.

And here's the piece of crap that said not to take it personally if he doesn't talk to me. Hmph! Look who's talking to who now. Ass hole.

"Dinner! You aren't making dinner?" he asked grumpily with fire in his words.

I laughed hysterically at his ridiculous words.

"Dinner, huh?" I laughed more, holding my stomach.

He kept a straight face and occasionally rolled his eyes.

"You didn't marry a maid, gorgeous. Go make dinner yourself!" I spat nonchalantly in a high angry tone.

"You are so unbelievable," he sighed smugly.

Truth be told, I have no idea how this cooking thing works. Dar was always the Cook in the house. If she isn't around, I just stick with canned or processed food.

I stared at him with a controlled smile.

He shook his head as his stomach rumbled.

Now I'm starting to feel bad. I mean, my prom date was food. Chicken nuggets to be specific.

I sighed, somewhat sympathetically and went downstairs, looking for the kitchen. I walked right into it and opened the fridge. Oh, Great! There were lots of canned food.

"What to eat, what to eat," I whispered to myself in a casual tone.

"Oh, Ice cream!" I screeched happily and grabbed it out, hugging the jar tight into my arms.

I dropped it on a counter and took some disposable cups, two spoons, and went off to the living room where Caden was.

Excited to find out the flavour, I kept the things on the centre table and scooped the ice cream for both of us. His eyes were glued to the TV as he watched the business news. The business news.

Workaholic much!

I stuck the plastic spoon on the cup of ice cream and walked over to him, my warm feet on the cold marble floors.

"Here," I offered, stretching it out to him with a huge grin.

Not looking, he collected it.

"Holy shit! What the fuck are you doing? What's this!" he yelled acidly

"Ice cream," I replied simply and grabbed mine, taking a spoon of it.

"Ice cream! Ice cream for dinner?" he yelled angrily as he knitted his brows raising his voice at me.

Okay, I am getting pessimistically nervous here.

"Yeah. What? You hate ice cream?" I asked sarcastically and forced every single adrenal gland in my body to secrete adrenaline, but it failed miserably. Really miserably.

He was furious. I could feel hot steam from where I was. He smouldered with resentment as rage flowed through like lava. His resentment grew inside like a tumour and I shamefully gazed downwards.

"Here. I'll spoonfeed you," I spat lively and got it off his hand, taking the spoon and holding it up at his mouth. "Open up." I pouted staring at his lips that went cold with fury.

He shot a death glare at me, his hands balling into fists.

Why the heck is he angry at me?

He pushed the ice cream to the floor and stared at me, furious. I looked down and turned to go, hoping nothing serious happens.

"Go make dinner," he repeated.

Now, this is where I would not take it. I can't stand stupid ignoramuses who classify the kitchen for females only. It makes my blood boil.

Whether Mercedes would have done this or not, I do not care! This ignoramus needs a good lecture!

"The kitchen is wide open. If you want to cook, then go do it," I yelled and forcefully snatched the jar of ice cream and a spoon from the table, running upstairs.

"Don't knock on my door again," I said halfway up the stairs and he just made fists and looked up at me.

I went in and slammed the door, terrified of his last look. What if he kills me?

Okay, did I just do that? That was insane.

I just get so worked up when people diminish the female gender. And yeah! You could call me a feminist! A mad one!

I sat down on the bed, really furious and dialled Darcy. At least I need a very good distraction right now.

Author's Note.

Hey!!!!!!

Hope you love it!!!!!

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~Pauly_Queen.....