Aiden Smith, the CEO of a multi-billion dollar company and the city's most eligible and richest bachelor, who possesses money, fame, power, and a notably arrogant behavior. He harbors a disdain for women, viewing them as mere seekers of his wealth. Despite this, due to a promise made by his grandfather to Brenda's grandfather, Aiden finds himself obligated to marry Brenda Jenner, a woman who stands out for her intelligence, beauty, confidence, and independence. Will love ever blossom between these two individuals despite their differences?
Chapter 1 1
Aiden's POV
My head throbbed from last night's heavy drinking as I woke up in my suite. There was a blonde girl in my bed sleeping next to me, I tried to remember how she got there, but I couldn't, all I could think of was that it was a consequence of the night drinking. I was angry at my friend Josh for letting me bring her home as he know that I don't really fancy girls that are ready to jump on my bed the moment I meet them.
"What the hell are you doing in my house?" I demanded an explanation coldly
"You brought me here last night, remember?" She replied,
I examined her, ready to explode in anger. Despite my frustration and anger, I couldn't ignore her beauty.
"She isn't bad" I thought to myself.
Yet, suspicions lingered in me, "perhaps she was just another gold digger taking advantage of my intoxicated state"
Walking to my bedside table, I grabbed a wad of cash and tossed it at her.
"Thank you for last night, you can go now," I said with forced politeness.
After I threw her the cash, she seemed unhappy, and didn't appreciate the gesture.
I turned towards the bathroom to start my day, hearing her hastening footsteps behind me. Swiftly, I caught her hand mid-air.
"Did you just try... to hit me?" I asked, somewhat amused.
I might have underestimated her, she seemed unaware of who she was dealing with.
"Do I seem like some kind of whore to you? "She asked angrily, appearing feisty.
"Absolutely. I'd say you're worse." I replied her.
Having dealt with similar situations like this before, her feisty spirit didn't bother me.
Leaning in, I warned, "Don't act smart. I remember how you got me here last night. While you may have an idea who I am, you can't comprehend my resources. In the next ten minutes, I could erase you. So, take the cash and vanish if you know what's good for you."
I let her go, and when I returned from the bathroom, she had vanished, and also vanished with the wristwatch that I left on the bed. Losing my wristwatch wasn't a big deal to me, it cost a couple of thousand, but it wasn't a favorite so I just let her have it.
Perhaps she assumed I was someone she could manipulate and tie down to do her bidding. Every girl I meet appears to me to be an opportunist. I must confess, though, sometimes I flirt with them when I'm intoxicated, the drunk me enjoys the company of women.
Glancing at my cellphone, I realized that I was late. Even though it was my dad's company, managing it was my top priority, something I took seriously. Most people that know me call me a workaholic, but I couldn't care less, I took my job seriously and I like me job.
Choosing a sleek navy Hugo Boss suit and my newly acquired Ferragamo loafers, I checked the mirror quickly to ensure everything looked perfect and I looked perfect. Rushing to the kitchen, I grabbed a glass of water and some aspirin to ease the headache.
My penthouse was a mess, which was an evidence of a wild night. Gwen, my reliable help, would likely clean it up before I returned. The hangover was brutal, making me feel terrible. Heading to the garage, I chose my Tesla Model S. Though I have a chauffeur, I prefer driving myself, especially when I need to clear my head. I only use my driver for official events or when I'm not fit to drive, and the Model S isn't built for chauffeurs.
A few minutes later, I pulled into my office building, parked my sleek Tesla Model S in my private spot, and headed inside. Greetings echoed around me, but I walked past, paying no attention. The staff quickly turned back to their workstations, as they usually did, somewhat in awe or fear of my presence. Being a young CEO of a multi-billion dollar company isn't easy. In order to maintain authority, I cultivated a ruthless and emotionless demeanor, ensuring I was taken seriously. Time and again, I've outperformed my peers. They know better than to cross my path.
The company was established by my grandfather, who then passed it on to my father, who not only maintained it, but elevated it to greater heights. Despite the company being handed over to me three years ago, my father remains involved in critical decisions. However, I aim to expand it further and surpass its current success, proving that he has nothing more to offer. Heading to my private elevator, I accessed it through a fingerprint scanner at the entrance, emphasizing my need for privacy and stringent security.
"Good morning, sir," my secretary greeted me with her usual flirty tone as I stepped out of the elevator. I ignored her, as always. Her attempts to seduce me with provocative outfits persisted, but I kept her for her competence in the job.
I had just settled into my chair when there was a knock on my door. It was definitely Brody, my assistant; no one else would take that risk so early.
He entered with my coffee and some files. I could use a cup. Brody always knows what I need and when.
"Good morning, sir," he greeted, placing the files and coffee on my desk.
"Morning," I replied.
Brody is the only person I can tolerate in the office. The constant flattery from others is maddening.
"Your father called. He insists you call back as soon as you're in the office," Brody informed.
"Did he say why?" I asked.
"No, sir," he replied definitively. "Also, these are the files you asked me to review. I'm done; all that's left is your signature."
"That's fine, Brody. Leave them on the desk. You may go," I dismissed him. He left quietly, closing the doors behind him.
Wondering why my dad would call directly, I picked up my phone and dialed him. After a few rings, he answered.
"Good morning, Dad," I greeted, walking toward my office window and enjoying the city skyline view. The calming effect was necessary, especially after the morning incident.
"Morning, son. I've been trying to reach you," he began.
"Dad, what do you want?" I interrupted.
"Going straight to the point, huh? I see you haven't changed a bit," he remarked.
"Dad," I snapped, massaging my aching jaw.
"Bring your voice down, boy," he commanded.
"Now listen, I want you to come over to the house. We have something important to discuss," he said sternly, leaving no room for argument.
"Is it business-related, or is it about the Mikel brothers' lawsuit? I've handled it," I questioned, slightly confused. "No son, I and your mother have something important to discuss with you"
I returned to my chair and sat down.
"Okay, Dad," I said as the line went dead.
Running my hands through my hair, I wondered what the old man wanted that required me to go to the manor.
"It better be good," I muttered aloud, before finally diving into the pile of paperwork before me that was enough to bring down a building.
---------------------------
Checking the time later in the day, I realized I had forgot about seeing my father. Grabbing my suit jacket and car keys, I left the building for my private parking area. Driving to the manor was a long journey, one I despised as it was in the countryside, in the middle of nowhere.
As I drove past a crossing, my absent-mindedness nearly caused an accident with a lady crossing the road. Luckily, I stopped in time to avoid a potential lawsuit the next day. Stepping out, she continued screaming, creating unnecessary drama.
"I didn't hit you; why be so dramatic?" I complained, irritated because I had had enough drama for the day.
"Stop being a drama queen," I snapped as I approached her, fed up with the theatrics.
She abruptly stopped screaming, glaring at me with intense anger, her bright blue eyes momentarily captivating. As she scanned me, the fire in her eyes flickered but returned quickly.
"How. Dare. You. Say. That. To. Me," she seethed, poking me after every word.
"You almost ran me over fuck face," she screamed at me.
"Fuck face?" I repeated, amused, approaching her and gripping her hand to instill some fear. But before I could react, she kicked me in the crotch.
"What the hell is wrong with you? Do you know who I am?" I groaned, clutching my unmentionables, vision a bit blurry.
"I do, you're a fuck face," she said, emphasizing the term with a smirk on her face, clearly satisfied.
"That'll teach you how to treat a lady, idiot," she said, walking away and flipping me off.
I managed to get back into my car and drive off. She was pretty cute and a bit different from the women I've met before. Surprisingly, I didn't feel the need to confront her. No woman had ever dared to do that to me; they usually apologized, even if it was my fault.
However, my pride took a hit, and something needed to be done about it.
"She's going to pay for doing that to me," I muttered to myself. I just needed to figure out how.
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