13

Jennifer.
That night, I slipped into a fabulous white dress that hugged my curves perfectly. The fabric shimmered under the soft glow of the lights, making me feel like a princess. Tomas was waiting for me at the bottom of the staircase, his expression a mix of anticipation and surprise as I walked down, each step accentuating the elegance of my outfit. He stood up, and so did Mr. Carl, both of them opening their mouths in astonishment, eyes wide as they took in the sight of me in this gorgeous, sexy, and elegant dress paired with my high silver heels.
I couldn’t help but grin at both of them. Their reactions boosted my self-esteem, making me feel beautiful and confident for the first time in a long while. No more ugly clothes, no more lies to Mr. Tomas Charl. I relished the thought of being honest and straightforward, and for once, it felt liberating.
“What? What’s the matter with both of you?” I asked, feigning innocence even though I knew exactly why they were staring. They hadn’t expected me to look so stunning. Yes, even those from less fortunate backgrounds can be beautiful!
Tomas’s gaze traveled from my feet to my face, his eyes widening as he took me in. He cleared his throat, almost as if he were trying to collect his thoughts, and said, “Wow, you look-um, actually, I don’t have the right words to describe how stunning you are. You look precisely like my fiancee,” he breathed, his admiration evident.
I snickered, feeling a mix of pride and embarrassment at his compliment.
“Mr. Carl, what do I look like to you?” I turned my attention to Mr. Carl, eager for his perspective.
“You resemble the daughter I always wished to have, Jennifer,” Mr. Carl said softly, wiping away a tear that had escaped his eye.
“Oh my God!” I exclaimed, moving closer to him. I wiped his tears and looked into his eyes, feeling a deep connection. “You are the best father I could ever ask for, Mr. Carl.” My voice was sincere, filled with warmth. He was so kind, and I felt a genuine bond with him, almost as if he were my real father.
“Goodness, now can we stop wasting time?” Mr. Tomas interjected, his tone brusque and impatient.
I couldn’t understand why he was acting like such an egotistical jerk. One moment he was warm and caring, and the next, he was a rude, demanding man. It was confusing, and I found myself questioning his character silently.
Tomas raised his hand, gesturing for me to come closer. I looked at him, unsure of what to expect. “Give me your hand, Jennifer. From now on, you will hold my hand everywhere we go,” he commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument.
I took his hand, walking alongside him and acting like his real fiancee. Mr. Carl followed us, along with the guards. The way his hand held mine was different. I couldn’t tell if it was an illusion or reality, but I felt electric shocks coursing through my body. It was as if my heart was being squeezed, but not painfully-almost thrilling. I stole glances at his features, admiring his beautiful, intense eyes. Despite my hatred for his temper and his mysterious, rude personality, I was falling for him. It was as if something was pulling me closer to him, a magnetic force I couldn’t resist.
When the driver opened the door of the limo for us, I felt a rush of excitement. We settled into the plush back seat next to each other, the ambiance cozy and intimate. Tomas pulled me against his chest, much closer than I had anticipated. I could feel his strong heartbeat against my cheek and the warmth of his breath fanning my neck. I tried to calm myself, but I felt like I was melting, like ice under a blazing fire. He was the fire, and I was the ice.
“Jennifer, you are my fiancee now. Act like it!” Tomas said in a husky whisper, sending shivers down my spine.
We arrived at a place where he had said we would meet his friends-his wealthy and famous companions. But I thought he had mentioned a nightclub. My experience with nightclubs was limited, mostly tales of loud music and crowds of young people, but this was something entirely different.
As we entered, I realized it was a stunning venue reserved for VIPs, the elite of the town. There was no chance of entry for anyone who wasn’t extraordinarily wealthy. The atmosphere was electric, and I felt a surge of adrenaline as we stepped inside. We looked stunning together-me in my flowing white dress and him in a sharp, white formal suit. We resembled glamorous celebrities, gliding through the crowd with the most expensive heels clicking on the polished floor.
Everyone was staring at us-whispers and murmurs filled the air as I overheard comments about my beauty and speculations about my relationship with Mr. Tomas. I felt a mix of pride and confusion; on one hand, it was exhilarating, but on the other, it was overwhelming.
We walked through grand gates, following Mr. Carl’s lead to our exclusive table upstairs, a safe distance from the bar and the stage. The stage was something I had never seen before-an impressive space meant for famous performers to showcase their talents. I felt like I had stepped into a different world.
Once seated on the dark, luxurious lounge chairs, Tomas didn’t release my hand. His grip was warm and reassuring. A waiter approached with a welcoming smile, asking, “Mr. Tomas, what would you like to drink today, sir?”
Tomas turned to me, “What do you want to drink, Jennifer?”
I gazed at him, feeling a bit lost. “Um… I don’t know how to decide for myself, please,” I admitted, pursing my lips and shrugging my shoulders.
He shook his head and summoned the waiter, ordering a bottle of Jack Daniels for himself and tequila for me. I felt a wave of anxiety wash over me. I didn’t know anything about liquor; I had never drunk anything like this before. Yet, I hesitated to admit that to him. I was his fiancee now, and everyone was watching me. The pressure was immense.
Mr. Carl studied me closely, his eyes silently questioning my choices. “What do you think you’re doing, Jennifer?” he seemed to ask with a concerned gaze.
I shot him a pleading look, as if to say, ‘What should I do?’ I pouted my lips, feeling trapped.
Suddenly, two well-dressed men approached us, accompanied by a stunningly attractive woman. They greeted us warmly, especially me. In fact, all eyes were on me, which felt both flattering and intimidating. Tomas introduced me formally as his fiancee, intertwining our fingers, and their expressions shifted to shock.
“Oh my God! We thought you would never fall in love or get married, Tomas!” both men exclaimed in unison, their disbelief palpable.
I thought to myself, ‘Yes, he’s a notorious womanizer, that much is clear.’
The woman’s expression turned to envy as she clenched her teeth and wished us congratulations before abruptly changing the subject, her jealousy evident. “Oh look! He’s going to sing! I love this popular singer,” she said, pointing to the stage.
“Yes, Jack is quite expensive. I wonder how they manage to pay him to sing here on weekends,” one of the men chimed in, agreeing with her.
As the waiter served the alcohol, I felt a thrill of apprehension. I quickly downed four or five shots, not really counting, trying to mask my nervousness. The singer took to the stage, and I felt my heart race.
“I have to go somewhere now!” I mumbled, though thankfully, no one heard me.
As the music played, I tried to hide my face behind my hands, overwhelmed and embarrassed. But there was nowhere to hide; the stage was mere inches away from our table. Tomas noticed my reckless drinking, and concern crossed his face.
“What are you doing, Jennifer?” he asked, worry etched in his voice.
Mr. Carl interjected, “Jennifer, you don’t drink! Stop this now!”
“What? She’s not drinking?” Tomas asked, turning to Mr. Carl.
“Yes, Mr. Tomas, she has never drunk before!” Mr. Carl confirmed, his tone serious. But I was on a roll, gulping down shot after shot, ignoring their warnings.
Suddenly, the singer spotted me, finishing his first song before striding over to our table. “Oh, Jennifer, is that you?” Jack, the famous singer, exclaimed, his eyes lighting up.
I gulped nervously, forcing a smile. “Oh yes, Jack, it’s me…”
“You look gorgeous, Jennifer! It’s been a while since we last met,” he said, his voice warm.
Before I could respond, Tomas pulled me to his side, wrapping an arm around my shoulder possessively. “Oh, this is Jennifer, my fiancee, my love. She is mine,” he declared, his tone protective and somewhat territorial.
“Oh, Mr. Tomas! How and when did this happen?” Jack asked, clearly taken aback. His gaze shifted to the sparkling ring on my finger as he continued questioning Tomas.
The woman looked even more envious, glaring at me but failing to introduce herself. I guessed she was Maya, his ex-fiancee. She chuckled, “Oh, Mr. Jack, you can’t take her from Mr. Tomas now. She used to be your girlfriend or something, right?”
As her words registered, I felt a wave of dizziness wash over me. “Oh my God! I feel…” I gasped, placing my hand over my mouth. The world began to spin beneath me.
Tomas’s gaze turned serious. “What’s happening, Jennifer? Are you okay? We can leave if you feel-”
I forced a wide, drunken smile, trying to reassure him, but Mr. Carl shot me a concerned look. “Are you alright, Jennifer? Do you need to throw up?”
“No! I just want to move!” I declared, unsure of what I meant by “move”-maybe dancing, standing, or escaping the noise of the club.
“Hello, Jack, would you like to dance with me?” I asked, standing up with newfound confidence.
“Of course, Jennifer,” Jack replied, a grin spreading across his face.
I hopped onto the table, and Jack caught me, holding me securely around my waist to prevent me from falling. Tomas watched anxiously, but I didn’t care. I was determined to dance, to feel free, and to forget the reality of my situation, even if it meant breaking the facade.
Jack led me to the stage, singing a song I loved. I swayed to the music, letting the rhythm take control. He spun me around while I stole glances at Tomas, who looked increasingly worried and was drinking more heavily.
Suddenly, Tomas stormed toward us, pulling me firmly to his chest. “What are you doing?” I asked, incredulous and annoyed. It was evident that I was tipsy, but I didn’t care.
“Stop it right now,” Tomas said, his voice deep and firm as he lifted me effortlessly with his strong arm. He stormed out of the club, all eyes on us as we left.
Once in the car, he tossed me into the backseat with a mix of anxiety and anger. I could sense his jealousy radiating off him, fuming silently.
“What are you doing, Tomas?” I gasped, squirming beneath his body.
“Don’t talk,” he barked, pulling away from me momentarily before looking back into my eyes. He drew me close and kissed me roughly, then shifted to a slower, more passionate kiss. Surprisingly, I kissed him back, feeling swept away in the moment.
His lips sent me to cloud nine, and I wanted that feeling to last forever. But then reality hit me like a cold splash of water. He was a notorious womanizer, and I couldn’t allow myself to be just another name on his list. I wouldn’t suffer the heartbreak that came from loving someone who didn’t truly love me back.
Pushing him away, I gazed into his eyes, my voice steady. “Tomas, I’m not one of your women. I won’t let you treat me like that.”
He moved closer, tucking my hair behind my ear, his hand brushing my cheek gently. “You are my fiancee, Jennifer,” he insisted.
“Yes, your fake fiancee, Tomas,” I shot back, shaking my head as I folded my arms across my chest.
He embraced me tightly, and I could feel the rapid beating of his heart against mine, his warm body enveloping me. He kissed my temple softly, then placed a gentle kiss on my forehead.
“Don’t do this to me, Jennifer,” he murmured in a low, sweet voice.
I narrowed my eyes, confused. “Do what?” But he didn’t answer. He simply sighed and instructed the driver to take us back home, the tension lingering in the air between us.