A Bride for Elizalde

Chapter 3

Elizalde POV

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"I'm so excited about this!" Mom exclaimed, "I want to meet her," she continued.

I heaved countless times, and I couldn't figure out what I would wear.

"Let me help you, son."

She slightly pushed me away from the wardrobe, and there she went again. My hands are on my hips, and I shake my head as I look behind her.

Who wouldn't love to see their mother looking lively like this?

I love my mother. She's my ultimate supporter in business and love. She hated all the women I'd dated for years and only wanted Elizabeth for me. This tradition was an agreement they'd made with her best friend. . . Elizabeth's mom.

I wouldn't say I don't like her because Elizabeth was a lovely woman. We had a good start back then. I got to know her likes and dislikes, her favorites and everything. We always had Sunday lunch on our farm, and we had fun. But those were the days of good memories. She's not a nice woman and not an ideal wife. But because my mother is sick, I have to do everything for her.

After her chemotherapy, her health bounced back. I need to fulfill one of her wishes. She wants to see me settle with Elizabeth before she passes away.

And looking at her now, you wouldn't notice that this woman has been through a lot of hell fighting for her life.

"I want you to look perfect in Lizzie's eyes. That girl has grown up so beautiful, like her mother." Her eyes beamed.

"This one looks good on you. Perfect!" She said while measuring the clothes on my body.

"Come on. Get change!" she ordered.

I sighed, and my jaw clenched. It's time to put on a good show. After all, Elizabeth could no longer turn me down. Whether she likes it or not, she has no choice.

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AT THE EL Del Real Tower.

I wonder what expression she will have once she sees me. I can't wait.

It took me two hours to decide which attire to wear until I settled on a formal one that Mom chose. I'm feeling anxious. It's not me. It's not like I haven't seen her for a decade.

Our last conversation was ten years ago, when she was only fifteen, and I was twenty. It wasn't a conversation because we were fighting, and I felt cheated until today. After that, I kept my distance and just looked at her from afar.

I paced, walking back and forth in front of Donatello. I'd been waiting for this moment, and finally, she could no longer escape from me.

Damn it. Why do I feel so tense?

"How do I look?" I asked Don, and he nodded. I am not so interested.

"Chill up, Zalde. It's not like you two are going on a date."

"Of course not! And that will never happen," I quoted, earnestly looking at him.

His eyebrows lifted. "I supposed," he smirked. I need to convince. "But you are excited," he continued.

I stopped pacing and looked at him. Donatello and I are the same height, but in terms of body build, I have a broader chest than him.

I worked out a lot, both indoors and outdoors. I have my own routine, and I'm with the boys in the Wranglers Boys Club on weekends. We hang out every weekend on whatever adventure we plan. I have yet to introduce Donatello to them. Soon, I will. This is part of our deal.

"Yes, I'm f*****g excited to see her. I can't wait for my revenge, Don. You will see," I said, and he just shook his head.

"I hope you don't regret this, Zalde."

"I have no regrets."

"Do you wanna bet?" he challenged.

"I have my confidence, Don. I don't need to bet," I answered, and he laughed.

"You will lose, Zalde, and end up in tears again."

I smirked. "Like what happened to you and Sasha?"

The smile on his face faded. Dammit. I didn't mean to say it, as it quickly slipped out of my tongue. I have to remind myself that this cousin of mine is sensitive.

"Point taken," he said, raising his pointy finger, "don't forget my commission. I can't wait to see the boys," he reminded me.

"Sure," I nodded, feeling apologetic.

He stood up, fixed his necktie, and looked at the time on his wristwatch. Afterward, he gave me a silly smile, and I shook my head.

"Okay, I'll go ahead. Relax, take a deep breath." He patted my shoulder and winked at me, and I shook my head.

"Don't be silly."

"I'm not. But I'm happy to see you smiling like this. That facial expression reminds me of the old days. . . the day you first fell in love with Elizabeth," he said, and ran towards the door, out of here.

My hand fisted, looking at him, running away from me.

Dammit. That lunatic.

***

Lizzie's POV

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For whatever reason, I felt like I would pee in my pants soon!

I kept going back and forth to the toilet as I arrived early. I should have at least eaten the breakfast that Emma prepared. Now my tummy rumbles, and it's obvious. I'm hungry. I only had coffee.

Since returning from my long vacation, I have not been home. I hate seeing Snow and my stepmother. Snow and I hadn't discussed it, so I ignored her. And who cares? She and Kristoff can f**k off.

My stepmother was back again on the record with her social life image. I also heard that Dad cut off her shopping expenses, and she went mental. She has no choice because the new owner manages more than half of the company's shares. Still, Dad owns less than half of the claim. That was better than losing the entire company.

"Do you want me to get you anything, Miss Elizabeth?" one of the staff offered, very friendly to me.

"A coffee would be lovely. Thank you," I politely said.

She smiles and nods. "Sure. . . Mr Donatello Miranda will be here shortly."

"Thank you," I responded.

I took a deep breath and composed myself. I've been wondering what sort of demand Mr Miranda wants. I hope it's not my body. I can't sell mine.

Ugh, what am I thinking? I don't think he's a bad person./

Emma told me from a review that Mr Miranda was a retired detective abroad and is now settling for his businesses in Asia. He also got an island resort in the country, half a dozen, and a few hotels with different names. Dad knows more about the details. I will meet him tomorrow at home. He rang me early this morning, wished me good luck, and invited me to dinner tomorrow night.

Oh well, good luck to me. I will cater the best service to Mr Miranda as an heir of Amantes Builders.

"Thank you," I said to the staff as soon as my coffee was served.

The beautiful coffee scent calms me. I love coffee, especially cappuccino and latte. I took a sip, and then I heard the door open. I stood up and looked at him. He cleared his throat and smiled at me.

"Good morning, Miss Elizabeth Amantes. Sorry for keeping you waiting," he formally said and smiled.

"Not a problem, Mr Miranda. Thank you for trusting us. It's a pleasure to meet you," I said, offering my hand for a handshake.

He looked at my hand and then at me. He seemed young for a retired detective. I expected him to be around sixty, but I was surprised because he looked only in his forties. He took my hand, and he signaled for us to sit back. I sat down, feeling confident.

He formally introduced himself and gave me a little information about his company. He's got a personality that kept me listening to him, and slowly, I got to understand him.

He seemed to speak not as the company's owner but as a representative, and I was right.

"I'm sorry for the long introduction routine, Miss Amantes. I hope I didn't scare you?" He teases me, and I laugh.

After all, I find him trustworthy in all aspects. He is genuinely a detective. And perhaps a psychologist? Who knows? He's an expert in finding a person's key points and weaknesses. That's probably how he got my father's approval so quickly.

"So, who is your boss? And what are his demands?" I asked curiously, even biting my inside cheek while smiling at him.

He paused for a second and drank his cold drink. Then, he formally stood up, and so did I. I composed myself again and smiled.

"I will open the door for him. He's been listening to our conversation from the other room."

His hand signals to the door just behind me. I move backward and nod at him. He walks towards it. I press my lips together and inhale in silence. Then the door opens.

I looked at his shoes first.

Neat, expensive, well polished. He's a dignified, clean freak. Then my eyes slowly climbed onto his black pants up onto his face.

His clean-cut jet black hair and eyes, like hawks, are dark and compelling. His chiseled face, perfect nose, and kissable lips are beautiful.

My heart hammered when our eyes met.

Oh, God, my goodness. No way!

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c.m. louden