Sentenced to Marriage by MadlainQ

Chapter 1

 

“What the hell is this?” I hissed, looking at the document I was given.

 

A lawyer in a fancy suit corrected his designer-rim glasses. “Your contract,” he said.

 

“Why does it say “marriage” on it?” I glared at him, blood boiling in my veins.

 

“This is what my client needs. He needs to get married.” The lawyer’s expression remained emotionless, making me feel as if I was tossing all my anger into a void.

 

I took a long breath out and glanced at the papers. “I’m not going to sign it,” I said, this time more composedly, as I crossed my arms over my chest.

 

The lawyer turned his head towards something, which I assumed was a one-way mirror. The second he did, the door next to the mirror opened with a slam, and a tall, black-haired man barged inside. It was Aren Lan, the only guy in this city whom no one dared to mess with. I looked at him, meeting his cold as stone gaze. I flinched but was unable to take my eyes off of him. For certain, he was dangerous, but he was also the most handsome man I had ever met in my life.

 

He smirked as he saw me shiver, my body submitting to him against my will. He strode across the office towards my seat. His broad shoulders and muscled chest could barely stay locked under his tailored suit jacket and tight shirt. As he stood in front of me, I could barely resist the urge to lower my gaze to his belt. He could have been deadly intimidating, but my lewd thoughts kept challenging my self-preservation instinct.

 

He leaned over me. His cologne was intoxicating but not as lethal as his onyx irises roaming my face. I gulped, indulging his confidence. His full lips were an inch away from mine, nearly touching them. A part of me instantly began craving their softness. My heart pounded erratically, turning me into a madwoman I had never imagined myself to be. He slightly opened his mouth, and I couldn’t restrain myself from looking at the tip of his tongue, slowly teasing the inner side of his upper lip. Unknowingly, I opened my mouth as well. He chuckled, sending a cold shower over my head.

 

“You can either sign it or go to jail.” He leaned back and smiled mischievously, emphasizing his impeccable jawline.

 

anything

 

your nose into my private matters,” he

 

I had anything to do with it aside from being at the same

 

chuckle escaped his throat. “I don’t have to prove it. All I have to do is tell the

 

can sentence me without proof,” I challenged

 

his face. “You still don’t get it, do you? I own this city. It means that if I say you go to jail, that means you go to jail.” He leaned over me again, his stare piercing right through me, “And if I say that I want you,

 

resisted an urge to talk back. This wasn’t a battle I could win, and this wasn’t a man I could win against… How did I get myself into

 

***

 

Three weeks earlier

 

espresso!” Christine’s nosy-pitched voice

 

I?” I squeezed through my teeth, trying not

 

the weekend effect couldn’t leave their systems entirely. But on Tuesdays, they were all work-mode-on, running on nothing but caffeine. Monique, Marco, and I were probably filling our 999th cup, and it wasn’t even 9 AM. I stretched my lips

 

She could have helped instead of bitching, but

 

female customer. “Three lattes: one chocolate and two soya-milk, two

 

the café. Well, at least she had no time to argue about why it took us the whole seven minutes to prepare her

 

me out of my introvert’s comfort zone and put me in front of people. But as a computer freak without a diploma, I had little possibility of getting a job in my area of expertise that would actually give me a proper income. Funny, isn’t it? A former student who had once received a scholarship at Oxford University’s computer science department became a professional barista-slash-waitress. That’s what happens when you don’t have a wealthy family, but

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