C7 Chapter 7

You'll have to pretend

I dreamed of something different for my life. I had the illusion of marrying someone who loved me without limits, becoming a mother, traveling the world with him. Still, this is not the case. I married someone who uses me for his revenge.

I am sitting inside this room, watching through the small window as the city gets smaller until the clouds appear. These look like cotton, softening the way the plane moves a bit. I wish I could float among them and disappear.

Once the plane stabilizes, I stand up and go to bed to lie on it. I close my eyes, trying to return to my imperfect world, which was better than the one I live in now. I get carried away until I fall asleep.

[…]

A rub on my back makes me open my eyes, and once again, I don't know what is happening. I have fallen asleep. I turn to see who it is, and I see Lucas staring at me as his fingers caress my skin.

I sit on the bed, a little scared, and move until my back hits the backrest. "What are you doing here? I locked the door," I ask fearfully. It terrifies me to think about what he can do since I do not know how far he intends to take his revenge.

"I own this plane, did you forget?" He asks me with a wide smile.

Of course, I remember, I think.

"What are you looking for?" I insist, and I make myself smaller by joining my legs to my body.

"You didn't leave the room, and I thought something had happened to you during takeoff," he explains, and I don't know why I feel he's sincere.

"What time is it?" I ask as I look around, somewhat confused since I don't even know how long I've been asleep.

"In Miami, it would be eight o'clock at night. We left three hours ago," he replies.

"Wow! I've been asleep for a while," I comment.

"Quite a while. Do you want something to drink or to have dinner? "He asks, and I look at him bewildered.

This attitude is not what he has shown so far.

"Since when are you nice to me?" I ask him without understanding his change in attitude.

He sits more comfortably on the bed and stares at me with those deep eyes that seem to discover all my secrets. "I never said I would mistreat you," he clarifies, and his voice seems so sensual to me, although it shouldn't.

"But I'm part of your revenge plan against my father," I replied bluntly.

"Are you dining with me or not?" he insists, and I know he will not give me more information.

"Alright," I answer because I am somewhat hungry.

"Let's go to the plane's main area," He proposes and stands up to then extend his hand and help me.

These are the things I don't understand about him. On the one hand, he is an arrogant idiot who uses me for his revenge; and on the other, he is a gentleman. Who is Lucas Sandonini? I ask myself without taking my eyes off him.

We leave the room to walk to an area where there is a table surrounded by seats "dinner will be served soon," Lucas explains to me while one of the flight attendants arrives with a bottle of champagne.

"I think we shouldn't drink this," I say seriously

"Why not?" He asks, narrowing his eyes.

"People drink Champagne to celebrate special occasions, and we have nothing to celebrate," I answer, challenging him.

"I'm taking you to Venice, don't you like that?" he asks me, and it's clear he's sarcastic.

"Not at all. You are taking me to show myself in front of your family, and I wouldn't say I like that. This wedding is a contract, nothing more," I say firmly, and I don't understand why he laughs at my words.

"You are brilliant. I like it," Lucas talks, and regardless of what I said, he serves the champagne glasses. "If I don't take you to my family, they won't believe I married you," explains.

"And why do you care if they believe you or not?" I ask unkindly.

"I care a lot. My father has decided to invest in your company because I told him that Mauricio was my future's wife father. It is also in your interest to please my family," he states firmly, and not I can understand how he always beats me.

"So I have to pretend to be the perfect wife for a week?" I ask; while discouraged, I accept the glass of champagne.

"At this moment and in all the times that we are in public during this year," he speaks firmly.

"And what is your revenge if you treat me well?"

He looks at me, raising his eyebrows. "That's my business. Just do what I ask, and everything will be fine," he tells me with that arrogant tone of voice that makes me want to hit him.

"It will be the worst year of my life," I affirm.

"On the other hand, I'll have the greatest time," he tells me as if he had won something

I never imagined becoming someone's puppet, but apparently, this is who I am for him.