Mr Devilish's Substitute Bride

VALERIA

Not long after Mrs Hale left, one of the helpers around the house came to knock in the door. She told me that the people sent by the man I would be marrying were here. I wasn't surprised to hear that my to-be groom himself didn't come since I didn't consider myself important enough to make him who had never shown his face do so now.

Honestly, I would be lying if I were to say that I wasn't nervous or apprehensive about the fact that I would be marrying a man I knew virtually nothing about. Nothing except for what the public generally rumored him to be - Ruthless, Vicious, Heartless.

There were more, but they all roughly meant the same thing - that my groom-to-be wasn't exactly what you would call a good person.

But thankfully, I had a trump card in my hand and planned to use it to negotiate with him. Initially, the trump card was meant to be used to negotiate with my dad to exchange for my freedom when the time came for him to choose me a husband that would help the family's business but...

I shrugged inwardly. It seemed it would end up benefitting my groom-to-be.

Thinking of the trump cards I held in my hand managed to give me some confidence about what seemed to be a bleak future. Therefore, after acknowledging the helper's words and asking her to carry my two suitcases downstairs ahead of me, I straightened up, looked in the mirror to make sure I at least looked presentable before heading downstairs myself.

....

Downstairs

While walking down the stairs, I had a panoramic view of the whole living room which was why I noticed the back view of a man who so happened to be sitting on the sofa facing the staircase at first glance.

I only had to look at the flattering faces of my usually prideful dad and egoistic brother to know without doubt that this was probably the leader of the people sent to escort me. Feeling like there was nothing else to see, I planned to withdraw my gaze when I suddenly felt some not-so-friendly gazes on me. I looked in the direction it came from and couldn't say I was exactly surprised to see my mom glaring at me as well as my dad and Aaron's disapproving eyes.

I looked down at my outfit and instantly understood why they were staring at me that way.

In the end, I hadn't bothered changing from the outfit I had been wearing previously - the baggy shirt with a skull drawn in front of it and the ripped jeans which my mom had criticized back when she came to my bedroom to talk.

I felt both amused and disbelieving at their disapproval.

They weren't really expecting me to put on a beautiful dress, wipe some makeup on my face and act like I was an actual bride, were they?

Because if that was it, then they were definitely in for a huge disappointment. No, scratch that. They WERE already disappointed and very dissatisfied with me. But, do I look like I care?

To them, all of them, today might very well be just like any other day but for me, it wasn't.

I was about to be married to the number one feared personality of Meteor City whom I have never heard anyone say something nice, positive or good about. And to make it worse, it hadn't been my choice to marry him - I literally got sold off to him.

So, even if my negotiation with him goes well and just like I planned, I do get divorced from him in a few years time, I was still going to be stuck with the tag of a 'divorced' woman. Not that I would feel inferior 'cause of it or anything but at least I wished that the tag had arose from the choice I had personally made, not one imposed on me.

So, yeah. Today wasn't exactly a good or happy day for me.

Meanwhile, the fixated stares of the three seemed to attract the attention of the man on the sofa as he turned around to look at me and then...

There was no then because my mind went blank.

From teenage years up till now, people have always asked what my ideal type was. I would always wave them dismissively by telling them I had no ideal type and that everything depended on fate but only I knew, that deep in the night when I was in dreamland, I would subconsciously construct what 'he' should look like.

And this man in front of me was as if the prototype I constructed in my dreams had became reality. Not even my ex-boyfriend whom I had chose to date because he looked similar to the prototype could compare. He could only be considered a imitation at best but this man... he was the real deal.

His short chestnut hair.

My favorite eye color - grey.

The silver rimmed frames perched on his nose.

He had it all.

Before I could even realize what I was doing, I found walking step by step towards him until I stood right in front of him. I reached out my hands wanting to touch him to know whether he was really real.

"Valeria!" A shout of my name however brought me back to my senses and almost at the same time, I felt someone grab my hand from the side and squeeze it forcefully. The pain made me tilt my head to the side to stare at the culprit - my mom who I then saw smiling apologetically at the man before whispering to me while gritting her teeth.

"What the hell are you doing? You are embarrassing us!"

"Wait. You wouldn't think that he is your groom, right? Let me tell you, he is not." She asked again after a pause.

The way she put it made me feel offended for no reason. It was if she was saying that he was out of my league.

This made me pull out my hand from hers forcefully and reply to her in a cold tone, "No."

I would never admit that despite the fact that my rationality knew that he wasn't my groom, somewhere deep in my heart, I couldn't help but feel some expectation.

In the mean time, I also realized the gravity of what I had been doing - staring at the man like a nymphomaniac and since no one except me knew that he looked exactly like the ideal type I had envisioned, they all probably got the wrong idea.

Especially him.

"I am sorry for staring at you that way. You reminded me of someone, that's why. I am sorry if it had offended you in any way." I stepped forward, bowed slightly and said to the man with sincerity.

Why it might be true that the sight of the man had shocked me quite a bit. In fact, I might even be slightly attracted to him, after all, he was my ideal type come true. However, I knew what my priorities were.

I yearned for freedom and getting married to Mr Devil would grant me that, in exchange for a few years as long as my negotiation with him goes well. And I was confident that it would because what I would be offering was what any businessman in his right mind would find himself unable to resist.

So, neither myself nor my situation allowed me the luxury of falling in love, especially with the subordinate of my husband-to-be.

Fortunately, I would probably not be having the opportunity to interact with the man after today. A huge relief if I might say since it would reduce the possibility of me getting tempted by him and somehow end up committing adultery.