"And that gave you the right to trade me off to a stranger like I am garbage, huh, mother? Selling me off like trash? You could have asked me to leave your house if you did not want me here anymore. Not like you ever wanted me anyway. But this, mother? Who gave you that right? What gave you the audacity to do this despicable act? Tell me? Is it money? Wasn't I the one who has been feeding you ever since..."

"Shut your trump, you who're!" She hollers, cutting me off. Whore? She must be referring to herself, not me. Her face is burning with anger. Truth hurts, huh? That is just great to know because I intend to pour all that she has made me feel throughout the years. Nothing will be left unsaid. We are lying it all here. She points a finger to my face. If it was before now, I would be cowering, trembling with fear, but not today. Today my guards are all on. "What am I to you, little witch? A child that you can scold however you want? Better shut up before I do it for you. You are right, I don't want you. I never did. Now hand me my money and get out of my sight."

"Is that why you tried so hard to starve me to death when I was just a baby, until I had to learn the means of survival when I was barely four years? Is that what mothers do? And you ask me what you are? You want to know what you really are? You are everything they say you are, Gracia! Every single name they call you outside, you are exactly that, even worse than that. Thank God I respect myself, else I would have called you all those names right now. And you know what, there is something else very important that nobody has dared to tell you, but I will do the honors. I want you to hear it directly from your own daughter's mouth, because I believe I am the right person to tell you this. You don't deserve the title of a mother, Gracia! You are a disgrace to both parenthood and motherhood."

I close my eyes, waiting for the well-launched slap to land on my cheek, but her hand must have been hooked somewhere in the air by some kind of magic, because her palm has not come into contact with my cheek. I open my eyes, to see Jerol holding my mother's hand. Oh, wow! Husband defending the wife? Saviour of the oppressed? I don't know which one to call him.

"You don't get to hurt my wife in my presence! It's unacceptable!"

Whoa!

His voice is calm, but cold and commanding. It holds such authority that nobody would want to dare defy or question, well, except this woman.

"Then tell your wife to show some respect to her mother! Don't tell me you like how she is talking to me? Or worse, do you believe what she is saying?" She finishes fuming, and Jerol lets go of her hand, his eyes on her. He might be thinking this is a live soap opera, little does he know, this has been my life.

"What I believe doesn't matter. As she said, I am a total stranger to both of you. Maybe you can clarify if there is any truth in what she is saying."

"I have nothing to clarify. This girl is a snake, a dog that bites the hand that feeds her. Don't say I didn't warn you. You better be strict with her if you don't want her disrespecting you like this." She never lacks something to bark about. Is making me look so bad her hobby?

"Until you can confidently prove that all she is saying are nothing but lies, don't waste your time telling me how to handle my wife."

"It's your call." She murmurs.

"You and I know that you don't deserve even a single cent from me, because you have done absolutely nothing for me aside from bringing me to this world. For that reason alone, I have tried to be as much generous as possible. Here," I hand her the envelope which she grabs roughly, "five hundred thousand, as compensation for giving birth to me and torturing me all my life."

"I knew it." She laughs sarcastically, then she turns cold at once. "Your greediness couldn't let you give me a considerable amount. You are such an ungrateful bitch! And you," she turns to Jerol who sneaked his hand around my waist without my knowledge until now. "Didn't you make a promise to me that I will get the full amount? What is this? What happened to your promise? All you wanted was for the deal to go through, huh? You fooled me!"

"Don't blame this on my husband. He made sure to give me your full amount, but it's only me who knows your worth. Thank God I didn't bring that envelope with nothing inside but your pathetic ID, because that is what you deserved - absolutely nothing!"

She rolls her eyes, looking at the scumbag sitting comfortably on the sofa. If she thought she will automatically become rich by trading my life, she better think and think again. I can be fucking bitchy if I am pushed to the wall, which is exactly what this woman did.

"What exactly do you expect me to do with this change?"

The nerve of this arrogant unappreciative brat of a woman! Forgive me if I go overboard with words to this woman today. Did she say, change? She opens her mouth and regard a whopping five hundred thousand as mare change! May thunder fire her mouth! May she break her tongue if she ever repeats that! IMAO! Has selling her body earned her that much all her entire life?

"I don't care whether it does something or nothing for you. Make a life with it or waste it in alcohol as you have always done. Better still, buy yourself a sex toy of a presentable man and stop disgracing yourself being fucked up by penniless ugly street dogs like the one behind you! All the same, whatever you choose to do with that change is none of my freaking business. It does not matter to me anymore. What I want is for us to part ways. I am giving you what you have always wanted - to get rid of me. You never wanted me, you still don't want me. Then I don't need you, Gracia Motero. There is no need for me to stick around anymore and force myself on you. There is no need for us to continue hurting each other anymore. This is where things end between us. I don't ever want to see you in my life again. Thank you, for nothing, and goodbye forever!"

I look at her, and for the first time in my entire life, I think I saw her eyes soften, but I can not fall for that deceit. She knows I have money now. She might try to deceive me with a few fake crocodile tears.

Before that happens, I pull my husband, and we walk out, his hand holding me by the waist.

I don't know what he makes out of all this insanity, but someday, if I will get a chance, I will explain. "But he is your temporal husband, Angeline! Why do you need to explain anything?" My mind screams at me, and I mentally smirk at myself.

We pass by the people again.

They haven't returned back into their houses, and I know some even eavesdropped on us, but I don't care.

I rummage through them as we pass by. For those that treated me like a street dog, I don't look at them twice. For the ones that helped me once or twice or countless times, I can still manage to spare them a smile despite my heavy heart for what happened back inside.

I said I don't care, that is why I haven't shed even a single drop of tear despite all that. And this lamp stuck in my throat, I will keep pushing it until it goes down my syndrome without spending even a drop of tear.

We get back to the car, and the car turns around, speeding off, leaving this place and all its memories behind.

Goodbye to the old, and hi to the new!

Walking in through the entrance of The Great Westview mall feels like walking through the gate of heaven. Deep inside I feel so cheap walking on the sparkling tiles, and clinging to this rich god beside me isn't lessening the feeling. I don't remember the year I lastly walked into a mini supermarket, and I have never set my feet in a mall, not to talk of a classic one like this one.

I hold on tight to the arm of Jerol, and we make our way in, to shop for the event of the day after tomorrow.

I am yet to know what kind of an event it will be, because Jerol said he would tell me all about it tomorrow and what I have to do. Considering his temper or anger or whatever his reaction can be called, I opted not to insist. I respected his decision, just like he respected mine when he asked what the deal between me and my mother is, or rather, was, and I told him I didn't want to talk about that subject, and he understood. He didn't push it. If we are going to understand and respect each other like this, then the five months will pass smoothly, and we will part ways in peace at the end of it. I would love that.

Going through the clothes section inside the mall, the admirable dresses Jerol is suggesting are everything that beauty defines. All of them are extremely beautiful, but there is one thing heartbreaking about them. It's even said that the most gorgeous people are the best and most heartless heartbreakers in the world. In this case, it's the prices. Jeez! What are we buying, some piece of the plot? Goodness! He is showing all that he thinks will go well with the theme of his event, I suppose, and I love them all, but because of the figures, I keep shaking my head at every one of them that he shows to me. The prizes are even giving migraine for crying out loud!

"We are going around in circles. What's wrong with the dresses?" Jerol asks, frustration and boredom in his voice.

"Have you checked the prices? This is daylight robbery, Jerol! It's too..." he covers my mouth with his hand, preventing me from uttering another word that will diminish his lifestyle.

He pulls me to him, whispering in my ear.

"Look around us." I do as he asks, while he drops his hand from my mouth.

Well, I made a good job at embarrassing him with that outburst about prices, because now everybody is looking at us. Some are even mocking me with sarcastic smiles.

I feel bad, not for me, because I can't pay all these notes just for a single dress, but for this man with me. He perfectly fits well in this class of the rich and famous, but not me. I don't belong here. Don't ask me what he is famous for, because I am yet to know. But given the way, people look at us as we pass by, and the kind of people I have seen him shake hands with, not to mention the kind of thousand calls he makes in a day, he is most definitely a something guru. Call me nosy or a busybody, but that one I have to find out. I need to at least know who I am married to, of all the things.

"I'm sorry for embarrassing you like this. I don't think this place is for me." I say to Jerol, looking away, shame washing my face.

Out of the blue, and without a clue, I feel his arms wrapping around my shoulder, pulling me for a hug.

Huh? Why?

Before I can be turned into ice by the warmth of his sweet cologne scent, my sixth sense kicks in - the charade is on for five months. Damn me!

"A wife should be wrapping her loving arms around her husband too right now." He reminds me in a whisper behind my ear, and before I can meltdown because of his hot breath that's tickling my bare skin, I move my hands under his armpits and wrap them around him.

I can win the award for the best winning actress because I am even closing my eyes, and my hands are moving slowly in a soothing motion on his fine back. I must show my worth of all the millions I am being paid for this job, right? That means this charade has to look as real as it can ever be.

I didn't know it was that easy to fake feelings though! I mean, it's always this simple?

We pull away, dropping my arms fully from his masculine body, but his remain on my shoulders.

I can feel the redness on my cheeks as he stares deep into my eyes, and my adrenaline rush due to his touch.

"What now?" He asks, but I am so not ready to waste a dime on this dress, so, I shake my head. "Come." Wrapping his hand around my waist, he pulls me to an area that looks like a fitting area.

We walk through them, him knocking on each door to know if there are people inside, until we come to an empty one. He guides me inside the clean and huge room, making me a seat on the black leather seat, while he stands in front of me.

He runs his hands from his chin up to his hair. He must be really pissed off with me. Maybe he is regretting choosing me as his fake wife. I can't blame him, because I too am regretting agreeing to this madness. He and I are from two different worlds that have nothing in common. How can we make this work?

"Maybe we should go somewhere else?" I state, breaking the silence and his cold stare before he slaps the hell outta me. He looks like he has mentally slapped me like ten times, and I don't want to wait for him to go physical. I am beginning to get afraid now.

"I want to understand you. So, the problem with those dresses we have seen is just the price?" He asks, shoving his both hands in his pocket, and standing straight. His height is every man's dream. I nod my head. "But I am the one who is paying, not you. So what's the deal?" He fumes.

"It doesn't matter who is paying, Jerol. The prices are madly exaggerated. One hundred nonsense for a single dress? I'm sure we can get the same dresses somewhere else at a thousand per cent lower price." I rant, my cool evaporating from me.

Okay! I don't know what's so funny with my suggestion that got the icy Jerol to smile.

I like his beautiful icy smile, no, I love it!

So this is how he looks while smiling, huh? Damn! He looks damn steamy hot but still with a cold aura. Ooh dear, I better stop thinking about this smile because it's messing with my mind.

Why is he smiling again?

It's enough that he brought me to this damn place of the high and mighty where I don't fit at all. It's also enough that I made a total fool out of myself back there when I complained about the prices. I have suffered enough embarrassment as it is. He doesn't have to add more to it by laughing at my suggestion, which is good by the way, well, according to me only, because his smile says I am uttering nothing but pure shit. I am just being honest and realistic here, for fucks sake! "What's so funny?" I ask with an irritated voice.

"The fact that I don't know how we are going to cope like this for five months."

I knew it! He is tired already, and I understand. We are just so different. We have nothing in common. We are the opposite poles that can't attract each other.

If it ends here, at least I got to live with a rich beautiful god for five days.

Shit! Why... is that pain I am feeling inside my heart? No.. I think I am paranoid!

I push the lump that is forming in my throat, and force words out of my mouth, looking down.

"I am not fit for this, Jerol. There is still time for you to find someone who will match your standards." I utter albeit with a heavy heart.

"It's too late for that." He says, kneeling on one knee in front of me, resting his hands on my thighs. His touch on my bare skin is giving me a feeling that I can't explain. What do I know about men and feelings anyway? Nothing! I presume this is how it feels when any man touches you. "We can easily settle this. I will ask you two questions, and you will reply with a yes or no. Nothing more, okay?" I nod my head in agreement. "Do you like the dresses?"

Well, of course, I do. I mean, who wouldn't? They are freaking awesome. I am confident everybody would look great in them. But..

"Angel?"

"Angel?" I repeat after him. Nobody ever called me Angel, and I didn't expect that from him. Angel? What am I? A teenager?

"Angeline is too long for me. And Tessa? Tessa, Tessa! Not bad, but I prefer Angel, for some reasons that I will not say. But for the formalities, I will use Tessa McCall. So, Tessa McCall, do you love the dresses?"

"Yes."

"And the only problem is the prices, right?"

"Yes."

"Okay. Wait here." He stands up, making his way to the door.

"Wait." I call. He turns around, while I stand up. "Where are you going?"

"To do something about the price tags." With the smile replaced by his cold looks again, he slams the door behind him. I can feel his heavy steps on the floor as he makes his way to the section of the dresses.

That means it's the same dresses he is going to get? No way!

I hurry to the door. I have to stop him because there is no way we are spending that much on clothes.

I try twisting the lock, but, my bad! The jerk locked it from the outside.

Wow! Brilliant, Jerol!

How dare he lock me in here? Is he a psycho or something? So, we will be arguing in the bedroom and then he looks at me in the bathroom? Oh, my goodness! I knock on the door, but no one comes to my rescue. If he is a psycho, I better remain sane and not join him in his insanity. I defeatedly walk back to the seat, making myself as comfortable as I can.

Comfortable on my foot! That... what should I call him? He is an insane moron!

After about ten minutes, the door opens, and he stands outside, calms like a cucumber and not like someone who just acted so insane a while ago. How many dresses did he just choose? And wait, I thought you only get the shopping bags after paying for whatever you are buying. It seems like things here work vice versa - just like the rich is vice versa for the poor.

"Let's go." He says, still holding the door ajar.

Go?

"Am I not fitting the dresses?"

"You'll do it in the house." His response is a no freaking cold one, as if daring you to challenge him, which I do.

"In the house? What if..."

"Tessa?" Whoa! That made even the people passing by to shiver, and they pass a distance from him. "I said, let's go. Please?" Mister paranoia is about to go hysterical.

Thank God, his anger can't allow him to look at me, because I don't want to imagine the look in his eyes. He is better off as a wolf or a vampire than a human. His reactions are close to what I read about how those creatures behave when they are enraged. Damn you, Jerol!

I raise my hands in surrender, and I walk out, him following suit, and of course, his arms going to my waist, annoying the hell out of me.

Welcome to the world of Jerol, the weirdo psycho! Cold hysterical moron! Dominant jerk!

"Your brain is better than I thought."

"Are you trying to be rude or insulting right now?"

"No. Alright, sorry. Let's go over it once more time."

We are sitting in our bedroom. Yes, ours - me and Jerol's.

Don't look at me like that, sha!

It was his idea, or should I say, one of the rules. As a married couple, we should sleep in one room, and on the same bed to avoid compromising issues. I didn't see any point of disagreeing, because he promised never to touch me, or disrespect me in any way. How can he do that, when the first rule of the contract clearly states that no falling in love? No feelings will be involved in this fake marriage. I guess that puts me on a safer side, right? Yeah. No love, no romance. No love, no touchy touchy. Sleeping beside him ain't such a big deal. I don't think he is as dangerous as a dog to bite me while asleep. Or a wolf, meh!

We have been going over this for the last couple of minutes, and his mood today is no difference. Arrogant, or rude, should be his middle name!

"When and where did we meet?" He asks again.

For the third time, I give him the same answer. "Nine months ago, at a hotel in town."

"When did we became a couple?"

"Six months ago."

"When, where, and why did we get married?"

"Just four days ago. We did a civil wedding because, well, we both knew what we wanted. We are sure of our feelings and we didn't want to waste any more time. Why a civil wedding and not a church wedding?" I guessed that was his next question, and he nods his head. "Church weddings take long to prepare and we couldn't wait that long. We wanted to live together immediately so instead of just moving together like that, we opted for the civil wedding as we start preparing for the church wedding. There, are we good now?" I ask, because honestly my back is starting to burn for sitting for too long.

He stares at me for a while. May be he is now convinced that I have memorized everything?

"And who am I? Aside from being your husband, who is Jerol O'Brian McCall?"

Whoa! I mean, well, who is he? Yes, who are you, Jerol? Because as far as I know, you are a stranger that I know barely nothing about other than your name. I just met you five days ago and you turned my world upside down.

Maybe he is a magician?!

"Who are you? I don't remember you telling me anything about yourself." I say, and his look on me turns from cold into a confusing one.

"You have no idea who I am?" I shake my head. "You.. have.. never heard of the name Jerol O'Brian McCall before?" I shake my head again, and if this is confusion I am seeing on his face, then mine is shock written on my face.

Am I supposed to know him? Why? Is he known for possessing some superhero powers or something?

The dark look in his eyes fades a little, and he stands up. "Come with me." He says without looking back and like an obedient puppy, I trail behind him after locking the door.

We start ascending the long sparkling stairs, the servants standing a distance away from us, some bowing their heads like it's their master passing, while others turn their faces away as is it's a devil they are avoiding. Who really is this man?

He doesn't say a word to the servants who are shaking in fear just because of his presence. He doesn't even stare at them, and I do the same.

We walk to the third floor, which is the next floor from our bedroom. He opens the only door there is on the left, ushering me in. I walk in, and he does the same, slamming the door behind him.

My eyes catch the attention of the framed photos hanging around on the white walls of whant looks like a house office.

This man in the all these photos, is the same one towering me from behind. I walk closer, scanning at each one of them. Even between other elegant men, I still can make out his face. There is also one common name and tittle on all these photos. I know the name, it's the same as my husband's, but this tittle? You gotta be kidding!

CEO of the multi - trillion ROYAL FUEL AND GAS COMPANY?

What is freaking happening here? I understand there might be a coincidence in the name, but his face? Why is he in the photos? And why is that name appearing everywhere on him?

I turn my shock of a face to him, my jaw rolling somewhere on the floor.

I look at him, with no expression at all on his face, then I look to the wall again, to that photocopy of his on those photos. I am in an exam room doing the compare and contrast test. Unfortunately, I can't seem to find any contradicting points between the two.

"Are... you.. y.o.u, you are the owner of the Royal fuel and gas company?" I ask in absolute shock, my eyes on him while my left hand index finger is pointing to the wall. Not on a specific photo I am sure, because even my hand is shaking.

"Yes. That's me." And he is saying it so flatly as if he is admitting to owning a kiosk or a single milk bar shop?

Someone shoot me!

I pull the swivel chair and sit down because my legs are giving up. What kind of joke is this?

I am married to a tycoon? A money guru? Me? How on earth? How on freaking earth can this be possible?

Oh, life! This must be one the invalid dreams you are mocking me with, right?

"Whant else do I need to know about you?" I ask after studying him for a couple of minutes. It wasn't my intention, my mouth just ran dry with words and I decided to put my eyes in use.

"I own the majority of shares in the central bank," more shock, "and I have shares in the Royal insurance company because my parents owns it." I'm out of words. My throat is even cracking out of dryness! It's becoming too hot for me in here! I swallow hard the little liquid in my mouth which doesn't help much. "Here," he hands me an ipad, "everything you need to know about me is all there." I take the iPad, or so I thought, but the next thing I know, it's hitting my ankle.

"Ouch! Shit!" I bend to collect the iPad, but Jerol happens too be fast to react.

"Let me." He says, taking the iPad and returning it on the table, while I massage my ankle. Damn me and my shock!

I try to stand, at least to ease the pain. Darn! I still have those freaking heels to wear tomorrow, not to mention that it will be my first time wearing heels. And now I am adding more injuries? Wow! Just wow!

I stagger, and Jerol catches a hold of me before I embarrass myself. I didn't even know I was heading to the door, and I swear I din't plan on walking out on him when I stood from the chair.

"Get a grip of yourself, will you? What's wrong?" He asks, and I push him away from me, standing a step away from him.

"Everything, Jerol!" I brat out, tears beginning to fall, releasing the weight I have been crying from five days ago. Or maybe from the day I was mistakenly brought yo this earth. I look at him. "My life has been a stagnant situation of pain and suffering, but five days ago, something happened that changed everything. I leave home one morning, only to find my shop all demolished and all the stock destroyed. That was the only thing that was keeping me sane. My hopes and the only reason I have for living got crashed into ashes that horrible morning. While I dragged myself back home that morning, I got into an accident. I thought that perhaps all my miseries had come to an end. But no. I woke up here, in a strange house with a total stranger, as a wife to someone I didn't know at all. And why? Because my own mother had sold me. She had found a perfect way to get rid of the stinking garbage in her house. And now? Now I just learn that my strange husband is what, a trillionnn.. whatever? This is excellent, right? It's so much okay for all these shit to happen in such a short span of time, right?" I facepalm my face, covering my tearful eyes.

I didn't know I was holding so much. I thought I was strongly okay? I know I was strong. So why all these drama? Why do I have to breakdown like this in front of a stranger?

I feel the familiar arms wrapping around my shoulders, and I let my forehead rest on his chest, keeping my sobs at bay. Oh, dear, what a nice way of showing how broken I am! Like magic, the soothing of his arms rubbing my back calms me down, and I stop sobbing.

I pull away, and I start drying the wet parts of his shirt with the back of my hands.

"What do you think you are doing?" He asks, bending backwards, creating space between his chest and my hands.

"Drying up the mess I made on your shirt." I say softly, looking anywhere but his face. I know I look like pathetic a mess right now!

"Wipe these instead." He says, drying the tears from my eyes, and I get a chance to look at him. "You know, Tessa. I don't know what you went through before our paths crossed. But my advise to you is this. Don't be too hard on yourself. Take this as a second chance to live, and try to be happy in any way that you possibly can. You can redeem yourself through this!"

Well, that was the plan since I cut ties with my mother. It still is. I am choosing happiness and peace.

I take the iPad carefully from the table, and start taking small steps towards the door.

"You are right." I say to him. "I promise you won't see these tears ever again for the five months that we will be together. Plus," I stop and half-turn to him, "I bet the wife of a trillion.. trillio... wait, what am I supposed to call that? You are more than a billionaire."

"I am just Jerol to you, Tessa. The rest isn't important."

"Yeah, right! I will find that out." He smiles, no, is that a smile or a smirk? "I suppose Jerol's wife should be tough and strong. I will try to level up." I drag my foot again, turning my back on him. I need to digest all these. "And your smirk is annoying, by the way." I say as I reach for the door.

"And your limping sucks!"

Damn, I know that, you annoying jerk! Even my walking style alone can't be anywhere close to being good. What of when I am limping? Anyways, I don't walk to impress, getting where I am going is what matters to me. As long as I can lift my legs from the ground, as long as I am able to put one leg in front of the other, I am good.

I feel him behind me, and he puts his hand on the door nob before I do. I try to turn, but I bump to his face from behind me.

Heck!

"What do you think you are doing?" I ask, trying not to turn to him because he is so close. So dangerously close!

I should get used to this, though.

"We are going to massage that leg of yours because I don't want any mishaps tomorrow. Hold this." He hands me a first aid kit, which I take.

"And who is going to do the massage?"

"Your hubby, of course. Who else?"

Hubby! That huts, quite different!

"No, thank you! I will do it myself." I reach for the door nob, but before I know it, I am in his arms, a faint scream escaping my lips because I didn't see that coming. "Put me down, Jerol!" I say, and I am dead serious about that.

But who am I daring? The dare devil himself? He is about emit fire from his eyes to burn me alive!

"Open the door!" His cold voice echoes through my ears, his icy eyes daring me to say or do otherwise. I twist the nob, opening the door.

He walks out with me bridal style in his arms, while I am dying with embarrassment.

"Does he really have to camouflage like this? Jeez! He looks so ugly and scary, but.. still.. hot, when he is this cold! Is this how rich people behave?"

He stops on his feet, gazing at me with a murderous look, raising the eyebrows, making his semi almond eyes appear more bigger that usual.

"If you say one more word, I will drop you off and I will not even care about your screams as you roll down these stairs, you hear me?" He speaks way too loud that even the servants in the sitting room heard it. They all disappear to the kitchen in a hurry, and I am glad there is no one else on the stairway. Does he beat them or why do they fear him so much? What am I even saying? His authoritative and commanding voice is enough to scare even the devil himself! His damn eyes too!

"Then you will have no fake wife to present to your family and your rich guests tomorrow. I dare you!" I fire back.

"Shut the fuck up, Tessa!" He is shutting his eyes tight, speaking between gritted teeth, his lips trembling with anger as he speaks, and I opt to stop my childishness at this point. It's best for me if I don't want to end up with broken bones.

"Sorry, hubby. Carry on, please? I won't talk again." I finish, and I lay my head on his chest, as he picks up his pace again.