Claire felt incredibly embarrassed. Nothing in her life had ever made her feel so small, not even the bullying she endured in high school.
This was different. The man she married treated her like she was nothing more than a pawn in his game.
He didn't bother to learn anything about her background or how she ended up in this situation. He simply assumed his grandfather had arranged their marriage, and that was it.
'My own grandfather set me up with you!' She thought desperately, but she couldn't bring herself to say it out loud. The only explanation she could come up with was that the two old men decided to be matchmakers for their grandchildren, and unfortunately, it worked.
She now found herself entangled with this obnoxious, arrogant man while trying to recover from the betrayal. Her heart ached how her step-brother and step-sister conspired against her and took everything her mother left her and even her father didn't do anything about it.
Her phone rang, snapping her back to reality. Claire realised her luggage and purse were still outside.
She smacked her forehead with her palm. "Idiot. You're not going to sleep in your wedding dress forever."
"Excuse me, ma'am," a maid interrupted her.
Claire looked up. The maid was dressed traditionally, in a dress with an overall apron, and her hair was tied to a messy bond. Claire found it both amusing and sad but didn't comment.
"Do you need help finding your way around?" The maid, Ann, inquired. "I can give you a tour since you're new here."
"Just help me with my luggage and find me a decent room, Ann," Claire replied softly.
Ann looked around in confusion. "Aren't you sharing a room with Mr. Cane?"
"Not at the moment," Claire quickly emphasised, feeling a pang of pain rise in her chest. "But I'd like a clean room for now. Can you handle that?"
Ann smiled. "Of course, Mrs. Cane."
"Just Claire, if you will," she quickly added, giving Ann another gentle smile.
"Yes, Ma'am."
Claire decided she didn't care if people knew she had no affection for her husband. He didn't seem interested in their union anyway; worse, he acted like she was to blame for everything!
While the maid helped her settle into a fairly decent room, Claire grabbed her phone, which seemed to be ringing non-stop. It was her personal assistant, Elvis.
"Hello?" She brought her phone into her ear and answered.
"Oh, thank God, Claire," Elvis breathed. "For a moment, I thought I might have called too late and missed you falling into a lake."
Claire chuckled and kicked off her shoes. "It's not that dramatic. I just got married."
"I didn't think you were actually going through with it," Elvis admitted, pacing back and forth in the living room.
"And I didn't see you there, Elvis."
"Well, I didn't want to witness your miserable face marrying some idiot who's definitely far older than you." Elvis quickly threw a joke.
Claire laughed and set her phone on the bed as she undressed. "He's an idiot, but I wasn't miserable—at least not then."
"Did something happen?" Elvis asked.
"Nothing you need to worry about, Elvis."
"Great. I've got exciting news for you, Claire. Something to lift your spirits on your wedding night... unless, of course, you've got other plans."
Claire rolled her eyes and slipped into a robe, wrapping her hair in a towel.
"It's not what you think, Elvis. I could have used a friend at the wedding." Her voice suddenly became sad while uttering these words.
"I'm sure you had plenty of friends there," Elvis replied calmly, showing a little sympathy for her.
"It was just my father's acquaintances and the groom's family. Trust me, I felt alone."
There was a brief silence on Elvis's end before he spoke again.
"Whoa, I'm really sorry, Claire. I should have been there for you. Anyone would feel lonely if their only friend was their personal assistant."
Claire laughed at his playful teasing. "Did you call just to tease me?"
"No, of course not. I simply forgot because your life is so interesting, you know." Elvis jokingly remarked.
"Just spill it, Elvis."
He sighed deeply. "Okay, whilst you were busy with the wedding, I was busy with the company. We've landed our first special contract of the year!"
Claire tapped her hands on the bed to check its quality. "Really? We've got a special deal. Hmm, we must be doing well."
"Listen, ma'am, this particular company is unique. If they chose us out of all the other interior design companies, then you know it's serious."
"Yeah, sure," Claire replied absentmindedly, still examining the bed. It didn't look very comfortable. Claire wondered if she should ask for a replacement.
"They're asking us to meet them tonight at a club," Elvis continued.
"A club?" Claire repeated, snapping back to attention.
"Yes, I know it's risky, but what's business without risks?"
"What club is it?" Claire asked with a slightly contorted face.
"The RNB club. It's okay if you're too busy; I'll just meet with them and see their requirements and all," Elvis said, wrinkling his nose.
Claire looked around, still feeling embarrassed and angry. She didn't know where Joshua was or if he had even left, but the last thing she wanted was to see his face.
"You know what, Elvis? Why don't we go and meet them at this RNB club? How far is it from my location?"
Without hesitation, she sent him her location. There was a brief silence before Elvis responded.
"It'll take you at least an hour to get here," he said, his tone serious. "You don't have to be present for every special request, ma'am. It's your wedding night; enjoy it."
"I need a distraction. Trust me, Elvis. I'll be there in an hour."
Before Elvis could say anything else, Claire ended the call. She went to the corner bathroom she saw.
Claire washed her face, removed the makeup, and then took a quick shower. The house was quiet, which only added to her discomfort. She missed the comfort of her own home and her small office, where she could oversee all her company's affairs.
"We'll just chill out for an hour or two before coming back to this cursed house," she muttered. "It's not like anyone will be looking for me on my wedding night."
Smiling, she tied her hair back and left the house, disappearing from sight.