Scandalous Games: Chapter 7

The seed my friends planted inside my head, they’ve made sure to water and grow it religiously.

It’s been four days and every morning, I receive texts in our group chat or a video call convincing me that the plan will work. Somehow their conversation always ends like it’s a done deed.

Hell, Rosa tried to manipulate me by taunting that I’m scared of falling for him. Hence, I’m reluctant. However, I have to commend her dedication.

If he was the last man on the planet, I still wouldn’t fall for him.

I said as much to Rosa and somehow she made it work in her favor. Nothing fazes her and her relentlessness. She and Iris usually stop bothering me after a while, but not today.

The fact that I’m at work has no impact on their mission to hound me until I give in to the absurd plan. I feel like a rabbit being experimented on in a lab by my crazy best friends. I’ve even gotten a side-eye from my colleague because of the constant buzzing of my phone. With a resigned sigh, I read the latest messages.

ROSA: He’s a manwhore. You wouldn’t be tempted to fuck him.

IRIS: He probably won’t be in the city half the time.

ROSA: A nonexistent husband. That’s the dream.

ROSA: Just use him to scratch your back like last time.

ME: Did you forget the part where he was a jerk?

ROSA: Even better. He’ll stand up to your dad when he loses his shit.

IRIS: That’ll teach the old man a lesson.

ROSA: Amen.

ME: It’s official. You’re both insane.

ME: And STUPID.

IRIS: What? *round eyes emoji*

ROSA: I’ll let that slide. The plan is genius. You should be thanking me.

IRIS: Hey!!! It was my idea.

ROSA: Which wouldn’t have existed if I hadn’t led Bee to Dash.

ME: Shut up. Both of you.

ROSA: Ouch.

ME: The plan will not work. Wanna know why?

IRIS: It will.

ROSA: *Drum roll*

ME: Because Dash will never agree.

ROSA: Hmm…

IRIS: You won’t know unless you ask.

I put my phone away once they quieten down and focus on my notes for today’s afternoon meeting. But I fail in concentrating because of my friends’ words replaying inside my head. My sixth sense screaming their main goal is to make me talk to Dash, who hasn’t stopped plaguing my thoughts.

Every night, memories of him slither their way into my psyche.

Especially the ones I tried helplessly to forget.

So when Iris inadvertently spilled how Rosa told her that she saw a fire in my eyes for the first time in years, I didn’t like it. When I confronted her about the same, in typical Rosa fashion, she said, “Your eyes were glued to him, Bee.”

I denied it, not that she believed me.

You’re a terrible liar.

Worse, I haven’t discarded the plan altogether. I’m intrigued and leaning toward it—and with Dash, no less.

Thankfully, my sister hasn’t tried to contact me since that night but the weight of our conversation is still heavy. I’m in no frame of mind to hold a serious talk with her. The dread combined with my friends’ pestering, made the risky idea more enticing.

My only hope.

The last resort.

A fake marriage will solve all my problems and I’d be free of the lectures from my parents. The constant tension. The matching disappointment on their faces. Most of all, Arya will get her happily ever after without me standing in the way.

I also can’t shake off the guilt that sneaks in that I’d be lying to my family. Having a sham marriage and fooling my whole family. It’ll be a white lie but still a lie. Even if it ends with something amazing.

In theory, it sounds like an easy and smooth plan but in reality, so many things could go terribly wrong. That might put me in a scarier mess.

Because best-laid plans always go awry, don’t they?

If the truth about my sham marriage ever goes out, it will twist into a huge scandal. My father prides on his reputation and if his own daughter tarnishes it, he’ll never forgive me.

The other option… to marry for real. No, a shudder passes through me. I would never be an option.

A fake relationship is my best bet.

I’ll stay in it for a year until Arya is settled. Surely, I can survive a few months resisting and without killing Dash. It’s not like we’ll have to live together. Even if his merger is finalized, he’ll soon return to his headquarters. Who’s to say he would even want to marry me, even if in name only?

Hope flares inside me. It could actually work.

Shit. I need to stop. I’m getting carried away like my friends. I’m forgetting about the biggest hurdle. The toughest step. The one everything depends on.

Convincing Dash to marry me and become my fake husband.

Am I willing to take such a huge risk? I ask myself. To lean on the one man whom I vehemently told he’s my biggest regret? To willingly let him back into my life?

“Bianca.”

I’m dragged back to the present by my boss and mentor Mrs. Zara Cross’s voice. The queen of the interior designing world.

“Good morning, Zara,” I greet her with a polite smile.

The woman is one of the most influential and sought-after names in the designing industry. She made a name for herself at the age of thirty with her iconic style and charisma. I’ve been looking up to her my whole life and when she took me under her wing, I almost cried because it felt like a dream.

Her career took off to an even bigger height after she designed the home of a well-known celebrity. Since then, there’s been a waiting list to become her client.

I must admit, I was intimidated when I began working for her closely. But she has the patience of a saint. Even when stressful situations arise, she’s as calm as a sea.

“I have a new client for you, Bianca,” declares Zara. “Your first solo project.”

My jaw goes slack when she tells me this. I stare at her, wide-eyed, before pushing myself into action and jumping from my seat in my shared office. My boss tends to announce big news out of nowhere. I have a feeling she secretly enjoys surprising her employees just to see their reactions. A surprise test of sorts.

“They’re looking for a designer for their new offices, and I believe you’d be a perfect fit for them.” Her gaze is sharp while she observes me. “Do you think you can manage the workload with your other clients?”

“Of course. I could never say no,” I answer with a big smile. “I’ll set up a meeting with the client right away.”

“No need. He’ll be here in ten minutes.”

“Okay.” I should’ve known since she never wastes time. I’ll have to prepare in the short amount that I have. Luckily, this isn’t my first rodeo. Most of the time, I’ve been called into meetings at the last minute.

“My assistant has already sent you the files you’ll need.”

“Who is the client?” I question. “Have we worked with them before?”

“Dash Stern. The CEO of Stern Defense Securities.” I freeze at the sound of his name while my boss is oblivious as she continues, “He’s recently opened a new branch in the city. I’ve already had a preliminary discussion with him and told him I’d have my best designer working with him. So, give your best, Bianca, and don’t hesitate if you need guidance at any step.”

Although my mind is frayed with nerves knowing he’s close, I still manage to mumble, “Thank you, Zara.”

She nods before walking out of my office and I plump down on my chair. I stare numbly at my screen while holding my head between my hands. It seems as though destiny is throwing us together at every turn.

Could it be a sign that I should take a chance on him?

If I’m being truly honest with myself, my mind was already made up. Maybe it’s a fantastic thing he’s here, so I wouldn’t have had to seek him out on my own. I realize I was hesitant because I’m scared he’ll say no and laugh before kicking me out.

Or he’ll make me eat my own words, which is still a possibility.

However, desperate times call for desperate measures. And I’m stooped as low as they come. Though one thing I won’t do is beg him like he taunted I did the last time.

I check my watch and realize I’ve wasted minutes, and now I’m running late. I’ll just wing the meeting and I already know whatever there is to know about his company.

I briskly walk toward the conference room with my notebook, pen, and tablet. He’s already waiting, as informed by the receptionist. Just outside the door, I pause as my heart thunders behind my ribs.

Why does he make me so nervous now?

He won’t be naked this time and I won’t be distracted by his dick pressing against me. My nipples, on the other hand, can still feel the arousing sting of his rough hand.

Do you want to be my whore, Bianca?

Damn him.

Focus. I count to three before stepping inside.

My mouth goes dry and my spine tingles when I’m met with the vision of him. His back is encased in an impeccable navy blue suit while he faces away from me. He stands alone in the wide room while gazing out the floor-to-ceiling window.

A cloak of authority in his posture.

An air of untouchability.

Utterly captivating.

His quiet presence is so thick, like the room belongs to him and I’ve stepped inside his den. Most clients usually admire our conference room as it has been designed with the intent to represent our style. Yet Dash couldn’t appear more bored or simply indifferent judging from his stance alone.

His vibe screaming he doesn’t care about the stunning view of the high-rise buildings visible through the three glass walls, or the long mahogany table sitting in the middle with chairs to seat ten people and a big screen on the opposite wall for presentations and pieces of art.

My hungry eyes take in all of the six feet and three inches of masculine beauty standing with his legs shoulder width apart and right hand in his pocket.

His hair, which looks sexy when disarrayed, is styled sexily. Tight muscles bunch and flex as he shifts at the sound of my footsteps.

“Da—Mr. Stern.” I hate the shakiness in my voice.

Stop stuttering, Bianca, I scold myself and maintain the professional smile I practice for my potential clients. He’s just like any other client and I won’t treat him differently just because I’ve slept with him. Or the fact that I have a hidden agenda.

A noticeable tension stiffens his broad shoulders for a short breath before he decides to face me. His icy gaze roams over my legs encased in silk black pants to the red top I’m wearing underneath my loose black blazer.

I’m entranced as I let him take his precious time perusing me, leaving no inch of me untouched by those sharp eyes of his.

His gaze penetrating without betraying his thoughts.

I brace myself for his vicious taunts or threats. As if he can sense it, his lips twitch and I suck in a sharp breath. He’s changed and become dangerous for my sanity, I swear. I will myself to move but I’m rooted to the spot. My body, attuned to his fine one.

“Miss Bianca,” he drawls. “Should I be concerned by the fact that you’re stalking me?”

I’m almost disappointed when he doesn’t call me kitten.

“You wish.”

His eyes gleam in satisfaction when he breaks my professional calm. Without breaking our eye contact, he closes the distance between us until I’m looking up at him. My skin flushes red when his gaze drops to the deep V-neck of my blouse.

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised to see you here.”

“What?” I blink at the sudden switch in topic.

“You always wanted to be an interior designer and work for Zara Cross.”

“I never told you that.”

“You wouldn’t shut up about it whenever someone asked you.” He smirks before his gaze softens as he says, “I’m even more confident you’ll achieve your dream too.”

“You’re the last person I’d expect to know my dream.”

“Yet I do.”

“Oh yeah? Tell me.”

“Running your own designing company,” he answers confidently without missing a beat. “Turning it international.”

Why am I pleased he guessed it right? I’m irritated at the butterflies taking flight in my belly that he believes I can turn it into a reality.

The only person I ever told about my lifelong dream was Niall, who couldn’t be less interested. He even had the nerve to tell me that I shouldn’t dream so big. His excuse was that he didn’t want me to be disappointed in the future if it didn’t happen.

I was such a lovesick fool that I actually let it slide. Or I was too young and desperate for love. I search for signs of mocking on Dash’s face but he stares back softly, no traces of a single lie.

“How did you know?” I breathlessly ask.

“You aren’t the only one who likes sneaking around, kitten.”

His stormy eyes lock on my blushing cheeks before slowly hardening into impenetrable steel. The moment ends as his softness vanishes and is replaced by the ruthless man known to the world.

Dash was always hot and cold but now he has many layers he hides behind.

I shouldn’t desire to peel them back and yet I want to.

“Let’s start the meeting, Miss Bianca,” he sharply orders.

I open my mouth to say one thing, but my lips utter another like they have a mind of their own. Once the words are out, there’s no taking them back.

“Marry me.”