Sentenced to Marriage

Chapter 37

Weekend off

I wasn‘t entirely sure how I ended up in Aren‘s black Porsche, heading to the private airport. I must have been slightly bewildered after picturing the two of us together, alone in his villa. I felt as if he wasn‘t planning to have any serious conversation with me at all, but was seducing me instead. But the worst part was that each time his seduction came to my mind, my body desperately shouted, “Let‘s let him!”

I must have been truly desperate since I kept biting my lip while observing his hands on the wheel, gracefully and confidently maneuvering the car. Why did he have to be so sexy while driving?!

“Do I turn you on?” he asked suddenly, making me blush. Hysteric laughter left my throat. “W–what?”

He smirked. “You squeeze those thighs a bit too much. I can help you relax if you want me to...

My face became blazing red in a second. “No, thank you,” I grunted, turning my head to stare the rest of the way through the side window. We weren‘t even in the air, and I had already managed to embarrass myself in front of him. Every part of Aren‘s idea for that weekend was making me unimaginably nervous. It all started when he told me that we were going straight to the airport, and when I told him that I needed to pack some clothes, I heard that it had all been taken care of. I hated losing control of the details, especially since I was going for a weekend to a place where the wealthiest 1% of the population liked to rest...

When we got to the airport, Aren led me to a helicopter–slash–flying–hotel–suite with cream leather bench–style seats, folding coffee tables, retractable TV screens, and, of course, a minibar. Aren seated me next to himself, then pulled out a bottle of champagne and two glasses.

“It looks like you‘re enjoying this weekend a bit too much,” I commented, more and more convinced that it had nothing to do with him needing privacy to reveal his super–plan.

He chuckled as he popped the champagne‘s cork. “It‘s my first day off this year. I think that champagne fits the occasion.”

“Oh...” I lowered my gaze, embarrassed by my egocentric thoughts. Suddenly, I felt sorry for him. He had everything money could buy and absolutely zero time to enjoy it. “When was the last time you‘ve been in your Hamptons villa?” I glanced at him curiously. He smiled wryly. “Never.”

“What?!” I stared at him in disbelief.

He shrugged. “I bought it last year at auction since it looked like a good investment. I hired people to renew it and redecorate it, but I‘ve never been there.”

Weekend oft

“S–50… not only did you decide to take two days off and spend it with me, but you chose to go to your villa that you haven‘t even seen yet?!” I laughed nervously.

“Correction,” he said, smirking. “I‘m taking a weekend off because I needed a break, and I‘ve seen the villa in pictures and during a video call when I had to accept the interior concept.” “Even so, you needed to rest, and you decided to take your fake fiancée with you?” I argued. He smiled alluringly and handed me a glass of golden sparkling liquid. “I enjoy beautiful views, and I cannot wait to see you in a nice bikini.”

I raised my eyebrows at him and snorted. “For your information, I don‘t have a bikini.” 1

He leaned over me. “You do now. I told you that everything had been taken care of.”

I gasped. It was time to admit my endless naivety. Aren was clearly planning to enjoy every second of that weekend away from New York City, and something was telling me that I was about to become his main source of entertainment...

“Wait.” I froze at the sudden realization. “Weren‘t we supposed to visit your family‘s mansion this Sunday?” Text © by N0ve/lDrama.Org.

Aren smirked. “I called the old man and told him that my dearest fiancée got sick after the party, and I‘d be taking care of her all weekend.”

I tilted my head, question marks painting my face. “So you just rejected your chance to get into the mansion?”

“Of course not.” A wicked grin formed on Aren‘s lips. “Now my grandfather is going to try even harder to get us there. I‘m expecting him to call on Monday to invite us again.”

“I see...” I suddenly felt cold chills at the thought of going into the house where I could see Callan again. “I‘m sorry.” Aren‘s voice startled me. ,“For what?”

“For not predicting the fact that you might not be ready to face your ex. Truthfully, after hearing about your relationship from Miranda... I‘m not certain I could face that fucker either. “He shifted his gaze to the window, but I could see the fury boiling within him even without looking into his eyes. “It‘ll take a lot not to kill him.”

I gulped. I truly hoped that it was a figure of speech and not actual intent, but the dark hint in Aren‘s voice warned not to test him. Nonetheless, I couldn‘t help but inwardly smile at the fact that Aren was angry for me... Finally, we flew off and landed at the Hamptons airport less than an hour later. Once we‘d arrived, Marcus was already there to take us to Southampton‘s “Billionaire Lane,” where Aren‘s villa was. It was a huge modern colonial–style villa with a beachfront and a private lane leading to the ocean. It was a careful mix of majestic architecture with contemporary simplicity that turned this castle–like mansion into a bright and cozy billionaire‘s second home.

Marcus brought the two suitcases he had in the trunk inside the mansion, and a minute later,

Weekend olla

he was gone. I stood on the luxurious porch and stared at the opened door, hesitating whether or not to go inside. “After you,” Aren urged me with a gesture.

I smiled nervously before stepping through the threshold and entering the grand, spacious hall with ebony flooring and bright furnishings. The room, like the entire two–story building, was beautifully lightened by the sun rays coming through the floor–to–ceiling windows. The hall opened to a large living room elegantly decorated with cream and blue colors.

“Our bedrooms are upstairs,” Aren said, pointing at the stairs.

I followed Aren, and a minute later, I was in a grand colonial room with light–brown wooden furniture and flooring and a king–size canopy bed. The whole place was amazing, but the most captivating part of that bedroom was the window view. It drew me closer and closer, and before I knew it, I opened the window and breathed in the ocean breeze. I stood there admiring the beach and waves for quite a while until something else drew my attention. It was one of the suitcases that Marcus brought. It looked like this one was mine. I took a deep breath and opened it. Inside I found my laptop, a cosmetic bag, and... a lot of newly bought lace lingerie, and two sexy nightgowns. I blushed, instantly wondering who was the one that bought those...

“Where the hell are the rest of the clothes?” I muttered to myself, nervously touching the bottom of the suitcase.

I clenched my fists, getting more and more annoyed. I seriously hoped that Aren didn‘t expect me to parade around the house wearing nothing but see–through bras and panties. Fortunately, before I decided to yell at him, I checked my bedroom closet first.

“Wow...” I gasped, looking at the row of sophisticated dresses and costumes. I picked one dress randomly and immediately felt an urge to wear it. It was a white, knee–long dress with shoulder straps, a plunging neckline, and a flared skirt. I tossed aside my jeans and T–shirt, and a minute later, I turned into a sexy woman on vacation. The dress fit perfectly. I grinned at my reflection in the mirror, turning around and watching the skirt spin. Suddenly, my stomach growled. I guessed it was the right time to look for a kitchen.

I went downstairs and wandered around until I found the dining room opening to an L–shaped kitchen with a wide island and a bar space. My eyes targeted the fridge. I walked towards it as if the food inside it was calling me. I swallowed and opened the fridge door.

“Is my fiancée hungry?” Aren whispered behind my ear, sliding his arms around my waist.

I screamed, and he chuckled, tightening his embrace around me.

“Are you a ghost or something?! Walk like a normal person! Make a sound!” I shouted, struggling to release myself from his grip. He kissed the crook of my neck and stepped back, letting me go. “Our lunch is already set on the terrace. The entrance is on the left.”

He walked there first, leaving me in the kitchen. I stood still while my heart hammered, and my skin shivered in wild excitement. My hand rushed to touch the still tickling spot where Aren‘s lips kissed. This was bad. I realized that I might be actually falling for this guy...