"But I don't care what your reason is," I continue, my voice firm. "It's not going to happen, because there's no way that I'm going to marry you. Mark my words. No, thank you."
He's still watching me with interest. "Have you ever thought that marrying me would be good for you? It's about time that the world sees Cassie Castillo settling down."
Did he just remind me about how bad my reputation is?
"No," I bark. "I'm here to make this crystal clear to you, that I won't ever marry you. You can marry me over my dead body."
With that said, I stomp, heading toward the door, but his voice stops me.
"Cassandra," he calls, menacingly.
And stupidly, I stop in my tracks. For the first time since we started speaking, there's emotion in his voice. There's anger in it.
I want to ignore it, but there's just too much implacable authority in the way he calls me that makes me afraid of what he would do to me if I didn't stop. Slowly, I turn around.
Luke is now leaning against his desk.
"One year contract," he states. "I will make the tables turn so the world will only hear your version of the story and not that fucked up news. I can also help you make new arrangements with your record label. They won't be able to go against me because I have a grip on you, their source of billions of dollars. But you will be my wife. For one year."
That's surprising. It's significant to go from forever to one year, and I thought that he was a man who wouldn't negotiate.
"And the reason for that is...?" I ask, eyeing him, my voice cold. "You said that it's a win-win, so why don't you explain how I can help you?" I smirk.
He takes a magazine from his desk and throws it to me. I catch it and wince as I see the cover. It's a picture of a sexy honey-brown-haired girl in a one-piece swimsuit posing on the beach.
Honestly, the girl is gorgeous, looking like a supermodel. But, what the hell? Why is he showing me this kind of Sports Illustrated cover?
My hand is shaking as I grip the magazine tightly. I snap my head back up toward him. "Listen, if you're looking for a woman to fuck—"
"She's my fiancée," he cuts me off, and my mouth drops open. "My parents are arranging our marriage to secure a business deal, but I will not marry her, and you will shove this fact in their faces."
I've never been this bewildered. Suddenly, all those images from Korean dramas attack me, my mind filled with the thought of an arranged marriage between two powerful conglomerates.
"You're delusional." I shake my head in disbelief. "Are you saying that you need me to cancel your marriage?"
To my surprise, he scoffs. "I don't need anybody to cancel my own marriage. But the thought of me having to marry the daughterof a conglomerate to secure a fucking business deal is an insult."
Now, it's my turn to scoff. "So you're going to use me to mess with your parents? You really want them to have a heart attack, huh?"
If the news of us getting married is ever announced to the world, they will have a heart attack indeed. Not only would their son be declining the arranged marriage, but he’d be marrying me instead, the nation's troublemaker.
Moreover, our pictures will be all over the world, considering how famous I am.
Damn. Maybe he really wants to kill his parents.
"Maybe," he answers simply.
Wow. He must hate them a lot. But I don't give a damn about his family issues.
"So, you're saying that we should marry for one year..." I falter.
"Until I secure the huge business deal," he says. "And there's no doubt that I will have done so within a year."
Then what if he fails? Maybe he will just divorce me and marry his real fiancée instead. That's sad. I will be the nation's joke once again.
This man is barbaric. He's ruthless.
"I believe that a divorce will not look good on my already ruined reputation, Mr. Klein," I say matter-of-factly.
