Aizen's POV
Marriage is something I wouldn't have considered having done at twenty-two. I understand why my father is in such a rush, but he can't expect me to have a kid right away. I've yet to accomplish all my goals. Having a family isn't my priority right now.
I woke up to the scent of vanilla lingering in the air, realizing Desiree was lying next to me. How did we get intertwined like this? The warmth of her body against mine is oddly comforting, reminiscent of the security I once found in my childhood teddy bear. With a heavy sigh, I find myself instinctively wrapping my arms around her, seeking solace in her proximity. This doesn't violate the contract, right? She was the one who cuddled next to me.
Desiree's body stirred, turning to face me, her features softened by the gentle embrace of sleep. I found myself captivated by the serene expression on her face. With her eyes closed and her breathing steady, she appeared almost ethereal, a vision of tranquility against chaos. Looking back, Desiree has always been pretty. She didn't know it, but she was. I wonder how someone who's already so pretty could grow into someone this beautiful.
I shoved such thoughts at the back of my head. What was the point? In five years, Desiree and I would part ways, each going our separate directions. It was a simple arrangement, one that required no emotional investment on my part. I hated this. Only Desiree could make me feel something so unexplainable. Even as children, she drove me insane.
There were two reasons why I chose Desiree as my bride. The first was practicality; I knew the precarious situation she found herself in, and I held all the cards. Divorcing her would be easy. The second reason was that I wanted to prove to myself that I didn't need love and that I was incapable of feeling such emotion.
I remember that day in Ho Chi Minh City. I flew to Vietnam in order to close a deal with a potential investor. To pass the time, I went to Takashimaya. That's when I caught a glimpse of her walking with a Starbucks frappe in her hand. Of course, I wasn't sure it was her. I haven't seen her in almost a decade. But curiosity struck me like lightning and I found myself following her. I didn't know why. The last conversation I had with her ended up in flames and we basically became strangers. So why did I follow her?
After that day, I flew back to Japan feeling a void in my chest. It was upon my arrival that my father, ever the pragmatist, wasted no time in pressing the deadline for finding my bride. That's when I had my men do research regarding Desiree's life. I had no desire to disrupt her world, but nor was I willing to bow to my father's whims and marry one of his handpicked candidates. When the opportunity presented itself, I seized it without hesitation, boarding a plane to reclaim what was rightfully mine.
I'd be lying if I said I didn't feel guilty. Desiree's eyes had lit up upon our first official encounter, her smile as radiant as ever. She possessed an innocence that was both endearing and infuriating in equal measure. She wanted to be friends, and for a brief period, that was what we shared. For two weeks, that is. Time wasn't exactly in my favor and I had to make my proposal.
I must say that my pride was hurt when she rejected the idea of being my bride. So, I resorted to more drastic measures, leveraging the evidence I had gathered against her to secure her compliance. I suppose the rest was history after she signed the papers and she despised me since. And from that moment on, her face became the image of hatred.
I tried to make up for it in the contract and the engagement. I was generous and well-behaved. I even attended every single appointment that involved the wedding. Still, despite my best efforts, she still had a way of driving me mad. In the end, I couldn't hold back, and we often fought behind closed doors. There were moments when I half expected her to flee, to escape the confines of our arrangement and leave me to face the consequences alone. And yet, she stayed, defying my expectations at every turn and challenging the carefully constructed facade of icy detachment I had meticulously maintained.
I watched as Desiree's eyes fluttered, prompting me to release her from my grasp. I didn't want to risk a confrontation this early in the morning. She seemed half asleep, her eyes closing again briefly before snapping open with a shocked expression.
"Princess," I greeted, causing her to blush a bright crimson.
Desiree practically pushed me away, shifting to the farthest side of the bed. She rubbed her eyes, a hint of shock, confusion, and embarrassment evident on her face. With her cheeks aflame in embarrassment, one of the straps of her dress fell loose on her arm.
Fuck. I turned away, covering my eyes with my palm. Her tousled long hair, disheveled dress, and flushed cheeks… This wasn't good.
"What the fuck did you do to me, Nara?" Desiree demanded, her eyes burning with hatred.
I didn't do anything. If anything, she was the one who cuddled close to me.
Desiree examined herself before hastily pulling the blanket up to cover her chest, her face now flushed with anger.
"I didn't do anything to you," I retorted, reclining back on the bed with a yawn, and shutting my eyes. "You were the one who willingly pressed your body against mine. Oh, and by the way, call me by my name. You're a Nara too, you know?"
Desiree threw a pillow over my head.
"Are you usually this charming in the morning, Princess?" I teased, knowing it would drive her mad. I couldn't help it. Why is she so angry this early? I didn't do anything to her. If anything, I've been a saint, which I'm not.
In an unexpected move, Desiree lunged at me, her small hands attempting to encircle my throat. Straddling me, she delivered soft punches to my chest with a glare that could have melted steel. Her sudden outburst only elicited a chuckle from me, which seemed to fuel her fury even more. "I hate you, Aizen!" she declared furiously.
How childish. I tried suppressing another laugh. I haven't seen this side of her in almost a decade. Desiree typically maintained a composed exterior, exuding nothing but icy disdain. This childish violent side of her was amusing.
"What?" Desiree growled, her nails clawing my chest.
I placed my hands firmly on her hips, causing her to flinch and freeze in place. "I'm no saint, Desiree," I remarked, sitting up straight while still holding her in place. "I've exercised restraint for some time now, but let's be honest—I'm still a man." With deliberate intent, I trailed my hand along her thigh. "And if you continue to provoke me like that," I continued, stroking her thigh, "I might just lose control." In one swift motion, I flipped her onto her back, pinning her down as a mixture of emotions washed over her, her face and body flushed with color. I smirked, witnessing her tremble beneath me.
"Get off me!" Desiree demanded, digging her claws deeper into my flesh. She tried her best to keep her calm demeanor, but her fear-stricken gaze and the strain in her voice betrayed her.
I reached for her wrists, pinning them over her head. She couldn't kick as my weight suppressed her body and she couldn't scream either in fear of blowing our cover. I shouldn't do this, but it's just amusing. I'm tired of her cold and stoic demeanor. I'd take any other emotion I could get.
Desiree glared at me, threatening, "I will scream."
I chuckled, shaking my head incredulously. "I told you that you could last night, remember?" I teased, leaning in close to whisper in her ear, "No one will hear you, Princess."
Seizing the opportunity, Desiree sank her teeth into my neck, catching me off guard and nearly causing me to collapse on top of her. Startled, I released her wrists from my grip, my face inadvertently pressing against her chest.
I underestimated her.
"Are you done playing with me?" Desiree snapped, struggling to push my head away.
I gently got off from her, my gaze dropping to her reddened chest. Was I too heavy? Perhaps. She is rather small. I reached for her hand, helping her sit up, her glare piercing through me like daggers. "You started it," countered, my hand deftly fixing the loosened strap of her dress. "I was just playing along." I touched my neck, tracing the bite mark she had left. It stung, but it wasn't that bad. At least now people would see us as newlyweds fulfilling our "duty" adequately.
Desiree reached for my neck, tracing the marks left by her teeth. A hint of regret was flickered in her eyes as she withdrew her hand. "Sorry," she muttered, shifting her gaze elsewhere. "I overreacted."
"It's fine," I replied with a shrug. A smirk tugged at my lips as I teased, "With the way you reacted, I would've almost thought you're a virgin." I couldn't read the expression she had on her face. Wait, was she?
"Whatever," Desiree dismissed my remark, her gaze dropping to the claw marks on my chest. Embarrassment her features as she buried her face in a pillow. "Are we always going to share a bed?"
"No," I assured her, "You'll have your own room when we move into the estate. For the time being, however, we'll be trapped in each other's company. Just a week at the most for our honeymoon. We can fly wherever you'd like. I'll have the staff pack your luggage."
Everything has been planned out. One week has been reserved for our honeymoon. Once we return, we'll move into Nara Estate and I'll return to business as usual. However, I still had one problem I couldn't solve. How do I keep my secret life from Desiree?
My father couldn't keep his life from my mother. No matter how much he tried to prevent it, eventually, his crimes caught up to him, endangering her life. The last thing I want is to put Desiree's life at stake. She's intelligent. I'm certain, she'll eventually figure it out. So, how do I keep her safe from harm?
"Hey," Desiree pulled me from my thoughts, her small hand tugging at the sleeve of my robe. "I was thinking, perhaps we could just stay here."
"In Japan?" I asked, a little surprised. I thought she'd take the opportunity to travel wherever she wanted.
Desiree nodded, explaining, "I don't feel like traveling, Aizen."
"People expect us to enjoy our honeymoon in places you haven't been to. We can't just stay here. Where do you want to go?" I asked.
She thought for a moment before replying, "Greece… no, Italy."
I heard she loved the beach. In fact, from what I gathered, she used to live near the seaside. She often traveled in places with white sand and blue waters. Perhaps we could visit both Greece and Italy.
I nodded, "We'll go to both."
"Huh?" Desiree furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. "Don't you have an empire to run?"
"I also have a wife who hasn't been to Italy and Greece," I replied, gently holding her chin. I couldn't help but smile at her reaction. "We wouldn't be seen together for a while once I return to work. I'm sure they would understand."
"Don't do that," Desiree said, her gaze shifting away from me.
I gently tilted her chin to face me. "Do what?" I asked, trying to read the expression on her face.
"Act nice and later cold. It's confusing," Desiree expressed, her tone wavering between stern and uncertain. "I don't like it. I can't understand you. I know I can't trust you… but if you act like a friend, I get confused. You bully me and then you act like we're husband and wife behind closed doors. I don't get you." Her eyes bore into mine, sharp as daggers as she continued, "You once said 'Why would I do that when I enjoy tormenting you… When I enjoy the feelings you have for me.' We were kids then but now it's different."
She remembered that, huh? Fifth grade… gymnasium… I can't help but smile.
"Aizen," Desiree called out, her hand reaching for my cheek. "I don't like feeling confused."
"Do you think you don't confuse me just the same?" I asked, placing my hand over hers. Her touch was warm… comforting. "You despise me and yet you remember something that happened over a decade ago. I don't understand you at all, Desiree. Do you hate me, fear me, or want me?"
She blushed, her eyes closing in embarrassment. Her chest rose and fell rapidly with each breath. "That's not the issue here, Aizen," she says, "Just make up your mind. Do you want to be nice or not? You can't be both."
"How do I confuse you," I asked. This should be interesting.
Desiree thought for a moment, pondering which scenarios would fit her point. "Claiming you don't care about the wedding preparations but attending every single one," she began, her voice gaining momentum. "And then there's how you act like you hate talking to me, yet you ask me dozens of questions just to keep the conversation going. But the most infuriating part? Telling me you don't find me attractive, but your actions speak otherwise. Like yesterday, when you kissed me... You didn't have to put in that much passion, but you did. And then there's sneaking up on me in the bathroom, messing with my head. Holding my hand last night when you said you don't want to form attachments. Holding me close to you this morning…" Frustration was evident on her face as she recalled each instance. "To tell you the truth, I can't tell if you like me or not…"
I could ask her the same thing. I did, didn't I? I asked her if she hated me, feared me, or wanted me.
"What if I told you I liked you, would you believe me?" I challenged, drawing her closer to me. Our lips hovered mere inches apart, her captivating gaze locking with mine. "Would you let me?" I murmured softly, the air charged with anticipation.
"No," Desiree replied ever so defiant.
Undeterred, my hand found its way to the back of her head, gently entwining in her hair as I pulled her into a kiss. Only Desiree could awaken desires within me I didn't know existed. Her body betrayed her as her mouth reciprocated my touch, her lips meeting mine in a fervent dance of passion. I wanted more of her, but I couldn't be greedy. I already took so much from her. Reluctantly, I released her, breaking the kiss that left us both breathless and wanting.
Desiree, what have you done to me?