CEO’s REDEMPTION

“Alright. Your brain is better than I thought.” Jerol says.

“Are you trying to be rude or insulting right now?”

“No. Alright, sorry. Let’s go over it one more time.”

We are sitting in our bedroom-yes, ours, mine and Jerol’s. Don’t look at me like that, Sha! It was his idea, or, should I say, one of the rules. As a married couple, we should sleep in one room and on the same bed to avoid compromising issues. I didn’t see any point in disagreeing, because he promised never to touch me or disrespect me in any way. How can he do that when the first rule of the contract is that no one should fall in love with the other? I guess that puts me on the safer side. Yeah. No love, no romance. No love, no touchy touchy. Sleeping beside him isn’t such a big deal. I don’t think he is as dangerous as a dog to bite me while asleep.

We have been going over this for the last couple of minutes, and his mood today is no different. Arrogant, or rude, should be his middle name.

“When and where did we meet?” He asks again.

For the third time, I give him the same answer. “Nine months ago, at a hotel in town.”

“When did we become a couple?”

“Six months ago.”

“When, where, and why did we get married?”

“Just four days ago. We did a civil wedding because, well, we both knew what we wanted. We are sure of our feelings, and we didn’t want to waste any more time. Why a civil wedding and not a church wedding?” I guessed that was his next question, and he nodded his head. “Church weddings take a long time to prepare, and we couldn’t wait that long. We wanted to live together immediately, so instead of just moving together like that, we opted for the civil wedding as we started preparing for the church wedding. There, are we good now?” I ask because, honestly, my back is starting to burn from sitting for too long.

He stares at me for a while. Maybe he is now convinced that I have memorized everything?

“And who am I? Aside from being your husband, who is Jerol O’Brian McCall?”

Well, good question! Who is he? Who are you, Jerol? Because, as far as I know, you are a stranger that I know barely anything about other than your name. I just met you five days ago, and you turned my world upside down.

“Who are you? I don’t remember you telling me anything about yourself.” I say, and his look at me turns from cold into a confusing one.

“You have no idea who I am?” I shake my head. “You have never heard of the name Jerol O’Brian McCall before?” I shake my head again, and if this is the confusion I am seeing on his face, then mine is shock written on my face.

Am I supposed to know him? Why? Is he known for possessing some superhero powers or something? The dark look in his eyes fades a little, and he stands up.

“Come with me.” He says this without looking back, and like an obedient puppy, I trail behind him after locking the door.

We start ascending the long, sparkling stairs, the servants standing a distance away from us, some bowing their heads like it’s their master passing, while others turn their faces away as if it’s a devil they are avoiding. Who really is this man? He doesn’t say a word to the servants, who are shaking in fear just because of his presence. He doesn’t even spare them a glance, and I do the same. We walk to the third floor, which is the next floor from our bedroom. He opens the only door there on the left, ushering me in. I walk in, and he does the same, slamming the door behind him.

My eyes catch the attention of the framed photos hanging around on the white walls of what looks like a study. This man in all those photos is the same one towering over me from behind. I walk closer, scanning each one of them. Even between other elegant men, I can still make out his face. There is also one common name and title on all these photos. I know the name; it’s the same as my husband’s, but this title? You have to be kidding! CEO of the multi-billion ROYAL FUEL AND GAS COMPANY?

What the freaking hell is happening here?

I understand there might be a coincidence in the name, but him? Why is he in the photos? And why is that name appearing everywhere on him? I turn my shock of a face to him, my jaw rolling somewhere on the floor. I look at him, with no expression at all on his face, then I look to the wall again, to that photocopy of his on those photos. I am in an exam room doing the compare-and-contrast test. Unfortunately, I can’t seem to find any contradictory points between the two.Text property © Nôvel(D)ra/ma.Org.

“Are… you… the owner of the Royal Fuel and Gas Company?” I ask in absolute shock, my eyes on him, while my left-hand index finger is pointing to the wall. Not in a specific photo, I am sure, because even my hand is shaking.

“Yes. That’s me.” And he is saying it so flatly as if he is admitting to owning a kiosk or a simple milk bar?

Someone shoot me!

I pull the swivel chair down and sit down because my legs are giving up. What kind of joke is this?

I not only married a stranger, a weirdo, but… This can’t be happening to me.

“What else do I need to know about you?” I asked after studying him for a couple of minutes. It wasn’t my intention; my mouth just ran dry with words, and I decided to put my eyes to use. I mean, who is this stranger that my good-for-nothing mother sold me to?

“I own the majority of shares in the central bank,” said more shock, “and I have shares in the Royal Insurance Company, which is owned by my parents.” I’m out of words. My throat is even cracking out of dryness. I swallow hard the little liquid in my mouth, which doesn’t help much. “Here, he hands me an iPad and says, “Everything you need to know about me is all there.” I took the iPad, or so I thought, but the next thing I know, it’s hitting my ankle.

“Ouch! Shit!” I bend to collect the iPad, but Jerol happens to be quick to react.

“Let me.” He says, taking the iPad and returning it to the table while I massage my ankle.

Damn me and my shock!

I try to stand, at least to ease the pain. Darn! I still have those freaking heels to wear tomorrow, not to mention that it will be my first time wearing heels. And now I am adding more injuries? Wow! Just wow! I stagger, and Jerol catches hold of me before I embarrass myself any further. I didn’t even know I was heading to the door, and I swear I didn’t plan on walking out on him when I stood from the chair.

“What is so scary about what you have just found out about me? What’s wrong?” He asks, and I push him away from me. I stand a step away.