SONIA'S POV
"Wh… right now?"
He gives me a dry look from where he leans against the wall, arms crossed.
"Twenty minutes is what I have to spare. I'll be downstairs." With that, he leaves the room and I let out a frustrated breath at his rude dismissal.
Does he not know that twenty minutes is hardly enough time for a woman? He didn't even tell me where we would be going to for our honeymoon. I have so many questions but I'm sure they can wait. I don't want to upset your royal highness.
But come to think of it, if I'm going to show him that I to can have a say in this marriage instead of being bossed around, I need to be defiant occasionally. I mean, he's had no trouble being mean to me by avoiding me and just being plain nonchalant. I have to think of ways to rile him up like he does to me.
And the perfect idea comes to mind. With a grin, I take my sweet time in packing up for the trip. I use five minutes in deciding what color of box I want. I use another five minutes to decide what size of box would be perfect. By the eleventh minute, I decide to go with the biggest box I've got.
I still don't know where we'll be going and what the climate is going to be like so just to be on a safe side, I pack up both warm and cold clothing's.
Next is my makeup, skin care and hair care tools. Looking around to make sure that I haven't forgotten anything, I roll my box into the hallway and upon getting to the stairs, I leave it there, alighting with just my handbag.
Anthony is standing by the floor to ceiling windows, barking commands into his phone. When he hears me come in, he turns and the look on his face almost makes me fold. But I don't. He looks angry. I don't know if it's at me or the person on the other end of the call; I'm guessing both.
"If you still want a job by tomorrow, I suggest you get your shit in order, John." He ends the call abruptly and then regards me. "I gave you twenty minutes. You've been in there for an hour."
I shrug, holding my head up high. "I'm just a girl. Twenty minutes is no time at all." I can see a muscle tick in his jaw.
"Let's go then." He turns to leave and I clear my throat, drawing his attention back to me. "What?"
"My bag is up the stairs."
He narrows his eyes at me. "Well, go carry it."
I roll mine at him. "I would, but it's too heavy. See?" I point to the top of the stairs to make my point and then I pout. "C'mon, help me. Chiara's looking." I mouth that last bit and it works like a charm.
Walking around me, he walks up the stairs to get my luggage while I go to open the elevator. The ride down is weird and awkward since I know Anthony is furious at me. But I don't care. Not now anyway. Despite still being in the dark, I know he stands to get more out of this marriage than I do so he might as well work for it.
Outside, there's a man just as tall as Anthony, probably even taller – holding open the trunk to a black SUV.
"Everything is set." The big man's voice is rough as we get closer and being this up-close to him, I have to applaud myself for managing to hold in my gasp on seeing his face.
Running across his face is a diagonal lined scar that starts from just beneath his left eye brow, over his left eye, the tip of his nose and ends at the corner of the right part of his mouth. My mouth is slightly agape and I wonder what exactly happened to him. Was it a knife fight? I feel for him. But then it does add a dangerous demeanor to his looks which suits him perfectly.
Beneath the scar, though, anyone can tell just how handsome of a man he is.
"You have the coordinates?" Anthony asks as he dumps my box in the trunk and the man nods.
"You sure you're okay going alone?"
"Yes. Should anything occur, you will be the first to know." Anthony says dryly as he walks to the driver's side and I see a trace of smile on the big man's face. They seem to be friends.
Okay then, seems like I wouldn't be getting introduced either. That's alright, I can introduce myself.
"Hi, I'm Sonia." I smile, stretching my hand for a handshake.
"Nice to meet you, Sonia. I am Taylor." He takes my hand in his, shakes it and politely let's go. Now that our eyes have met, I can see that the scar that passes through his eyes damaged his pupil, giving it a color different from his undamaged right eye.
"Are you done?" Comes Anthony's impatient voice from behind the stirring wheel. The jerk couldn't even wait for me before getting into the car. I take that to mean Taylor isn't in the dark about our marriage then.
I get into the passenger's seat and soon enough, we pull out of the compound and begin our journey to… heaven knows where.
"Where are we going, Anthony?"
"Away for our honeymoon."
If only I could give him a slap behind his head without risking my life in the process.
"To where though? And why? Is this even necessary? This marriage isn't even real."
"I remember that," He states, seriously. "But for appearance sake, it is necessary. People will ask questions and I don't want that."
"Okay then. Will you tell me where we're going to now?"
He sighs. "You're super chatty today. We are going to my place in Saddle River."
"Oh." My tone comes out more disappointed than intended. Of course we wouldn't go to the Bahamas or Maldives since we're not actually in love. "How long is the drive going to be?"
Anthony doesn't reply me. Instead, I am ignored until I begin to feel sleepy and instead of keeping him company since I would only be ignored again, I let sleep take me.
-ANTHONY-
The complete silence in the car is how I'm able to tell that she has drifted asleep. I don't turn to look at her. I just intend to enjoy the peace and quiet until I can dump her at my home and head over to grandpa's estate.
Having not spent time with her since I brought her to New Jersey, I never was aware of the fact that she talked a lot and was to all extent, annoying. More reasons why avoiding the penthouse at all cost wasn't such a bad idea like Taylor said.
I have better and more important things to do than to babysit my pregnant wife. The word 'pregnant' makes me remember Chiara's comment about getting Sonia a doctor. I make a mental note to make arrangements to have a specialist come over tomorrow.
Halfway through the journey, I'm tempted to gaze at the source of the tiny snores I hear. I hold myself back. Nothing, I mean nothing, should make me feel drawn to her.
I've made a mistake once in the past, paving way for another would be me committing suicide.
Hands on the stirring wheel, my thumb – over the leather of the glove I only wear on my left hand – traces that one finger and I let out a sigh.