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Chapter Five

Zaki needed a drink—or ten. He’d been holed up in the executive waiting room of Liam & Cadwell--a celebrity-owned industrial loft where the best engagement pictures in Hollywood were taken--waiting, for his supposed fiancée who was running a whole hour late. He'd pushed back meetings, postponed some, and canceled others, just so he could make it on time. It irked him that the spoiled-rotten brat that was being foisted on him as a bride, couldn't return the courtesy by being on time.  

“Mr. Omidyar, once again, if you require anything, do let me know sir.” The impish twist of the waitress’s lips and the direct way she eyed him said she was offering more than a drink to ease his waiting.

He declined her offers with a dismissive shake of his proud head. Since he arrived, she'd been trying to get him to look past her face and down to her boobs which were almost rolling out of the white short-sleeved shirt she was wearing. 

He took a glance at his timepiece and got to his feet. He'll be damned if he kept waiting around like a fool. As a matter of fact, he should've left the very moment his gut kept telling him he was wasting his precious time. 

He marched out of the waiting room and continued until he reached the building's entry door. Just as he stepped out, a black SUV pulled up at the curb. The back door opened, and one slender leg appeared, then the rest of the body—a voluptuous form in a black pencil skirt and a white corset top. Around her throat looped several fine gold chains—one trailed and disappeared in her cleavage. Amelia, who'd schemed to be exactly one hour late for the shoot flipped a thick mass of waist-length curly hair over her shoulders as her long strides brought her closer to the building. Her floral scent wrapped around him, and his nose wrinkled in disgust.

“Hi, Husband. Leaving so soon?”

She had a taunting smile as she sailed past him, keeping her eyes on the building.

His lips tugged up into a grin—something that hadn’t happened in a while—and he continued his stroll down to where his vehicle was parked. Knowing her tardiness was schemed purposely to infuriate him, amused him. The level of her pettiness, and the lengths she was willing to go to frustrate the entire wedding process, he realized, was second to none. He should just leave. Keep moving like everyone else, with something better to do. Amelia Rodriguez was a serious waste of his time, which he planned to thoroughly ignore after marriage. This, of course, happens only when she fails to put a stop to the whole damn thing. He prayed she wouldn't. 

Freya, who had a personal, ongoing feud with the internet, was thankfully yet to discover--from gossip blogs, online publications, e.t.c--that he was getting married to someone else in a few days. He couldn't estimate how long things would remain that way, but he low-key hoped Amelia comes up with something creative soon, or he'll be forced to open up to Freya about it. 

He unlocked his vehicle and pulled open the door when a familiar Range Rover moved to park in front of him. The doors to the Range opened and his uncle, along with Amelia's mother and cousin, stepped out with bright smiles on their faces. Both women exchanged pleasantries with him before excusing themselves to join Amelia back at the studio.

“Were you leaving?” his uncle asked.

“Yes,” he replied. “Why are you all here?”

“Amelia invited us. She wants a family shoot after the pre-wedding one is done.” Ali glanced at his watch. “Why are you leaving? The photoshoot hasn't even started.”

Zaki's gaze narrowed by that statement. “What time was it supposed to start?”

“3:15 pm. That's the time the photographer gave us. I sent the schedule to your email, remember?”

“Yes, but--” he groaned, shut his eyes, and tried to calm his nerves. “Amelia sent a text saying the shoot had been brought back an hour earlier. I honestly didn't expect it, so I didn't bother calling you to confirm. I've been holed up in the waiting room since two fucking pm.”

Ali sighed, placing a beefy palm on Zaki's shoulder. “Easy, Zaki. Ignore it.”

“You've given me a fucking child to marry, Ali!” he shrugged the palm off his shoulder and stormed back to the studio.

Inside, a cacophony of laughter and voices filled the space. A vast change from the stagnant silence he breathed for the last one hour. Amelia, who along with her mom and cousin, had been glancing through some dresses on a rack, left them to approach Zaki with a smile.

“Aww, husband,” she pulled him in an unexpected hug, drawing awws and gushes from their loved ones and everyone around them. “Try to smile big-shot, Zaki,” she whispered to him. “And tell me, why exactly are you back so soon?” 

He wrapped one arm around her waist, keeping her from breaking the embrace. “I see you like playing games.” he hummed, almost innocently, his lips nearly brushing her cheekbones. “You should know...... I play too.”

And just like that, he let go abruptly, leaving a tingling sensation in her bones as the ice in her blue eyes darkened considerably.

“Zaki, Amelia,” Ali called out to them, smiling as they both turned. “Meet Lauretta Vancouver. She's the wedding photographer who would be handling your shoot today.”

“Oh my!” The woman, who'd been introduced, pushed her glasses up her nose, blinking up at Zaki. “It is you again, Mr. Omidyar.”

“Again?” Amelia rose a suspicious brow, her gaze ping-ponging from Lauretta to Zaki. “Is this your second engagement shoot, husband?” she inquired, a mocking smirk forming on her face.

“What happened to the other one?” the woman asked. “She was so pretty. Such a good woman.”

“Yes, husband.” Amelia taunted, as she tapped her manicured fingernail to her temple. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” Zaki replied, voice gruff as he ripped his tie from around his throat. “Excuse me. I need to prepare for the shoot.”

After changing for the first shoot, Lauretta instructed them to stand close to each other, behind a white background. Then she asked Zaki to drape a hand over Amelia’s shoulder while standing behind her. Using excessive hand movements to make her point, she then asked him to put both hands on her shoulders and look into her eyes. 

They did as we were instructed, only that they weren't smiling painfully wide for the camera. Both threw angry glances at each other as Lauretta clicked away. 

She stopped to see the pictures she'd taken so far and frowned. “No, no, no, no, no. This is all wrong! Lean over and kiss her cheek, Mr. Omidyar!” she yelled, getting behind the camera as Zaki did as he was told.

He pressed his lips to Amelia’s cheek, and a jolt of something hot and unfamiliar surged through her. She stepped back immediately. “You're crowding me.”

“So you went deaf when she said, lean over and kiss her cheek?” he deadpanned.

“Good one, Mr. Omidyar.” Lauretta smiled at the shot she got, before looking back at them. “Now, please turn to the other side. Miss Rodriguez, hug him from behind! Place your head on his back and smile. Look like you mean it. No, that's all wrong. It looks like you are trying to tackle him in a reverse suplex.” 

Amelia tried again and did better this time. They turned around and struck another pose.

“So,” Amelia started. “Tell me more about this basic chick you were engaged to.”

“You're rude, rotten to a fault, and uncouth. Now you want to add nosy to the list?”

“Whatever you say, husband. I'll just love to meet the wise woman who dropped your sorry ass.”

“Mind your damn business, Miss Rodriguez,” he said through a tight-lipped smile. 

“No, no, no! Guys!” Lauretta continued her commentary. “Mr. Omidyar! A real smile, please. I don’t remember you so frigid your first round. Miss Rodriguez, you look pissed. This isn't a boxing match.”

They made the readjustments, and she went back to clicking away behind the camera.

“So, what's her name?” Amelia continued, her warm breath tickling his chest.

“Drop. It,” he warned.

“Or what?” she scoffed. “How long did you two date before she dumped your--”

Amelia's breath hitched as Zaki grabbed her ass. The suddenness and intimacy of the gesture sent chills over her bare arms, and she was momentarily speechless.

“Good Mr. Omidyar! Good! I love it!” Lauretta shouted. 

“Get your filthy hands off my ass, or I swear I'll--”

“You'll do nothing.” he squeezed it again and goosebumps skittered over her skin.

“Go on. I dare you to create a scene.” he scoffed. “Oh, look, your cousin is videoing. Five thousand dollars says she's probably on your I* live, sharing this moment with the rest of the world. I'm sure your twenty million followers would love to see how unstable you really are.”

“Alright, Mr. Omidyar, let your hands go up to her waist slowly,” Lauretta instructed again.

Anger and something indecipherable at the moment surged through Amelia. She was frozen but managed to look at her mother for help, resisting any impulse to gag when she did.

Was that a tear she saw on her mom's face? A proud mother moment? So the woman was completely okay with a man grabbing her daughter like this? She couldn't believe it. Then she glanced at her cousin and resisted the urge to frown. Indeed her phone was out and most likely on her I* live.

“Beautiful!” Lauretta shouted again. “Okay! Let's try another pose.”

Zaki's hands dropped away. “You look flustered, Miss Rodriguez. Cat caught your poisonous tongue?”

“Don't you ever touch me again.” she hissed as he laughed heartily. “Bastard.”

“We're getting married, correct? Your body--if ever I'm interested--is mine, sweet cheeks.”

“Oh, really?” she smiled. “Touch me, and I swear, I'll slice off your balls.”

“Oh my, I'm so scared,” he smirked.

“I'm serious, Zaki. If you can't settle for a marriage without sex, then you're more than welcome to mess around with that chick who dumped you. That, of course, is if she's still interested.”

The smile disappeared from his face and his jaw clenched tightly. Satisfied, she knew she'd struck a nerve. 

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