The Billionaire's Bridal Chase

EP 02: Bewitched by the Pig Witch

Apparently, I'm beginning to feel like I am the one who dared to mess with her.

“Dude, wake up. Don’t you have plans for today?” I heard her speak through the wall separating our rooms where she managed to dig a hole in with a drilling machine. Where did she even get a drilling machine? And is she expecting me to take responsibility for this mess she made? What a psycho.

I was still deep in sleep when she started ringing the doorbell like crazy. Of course, I didn’t budge and slept the consecutive rings off. I regret the choice I made now. It’s as if I just awakened an evil force within her.

My eyes shot open. This situation only insinuates that I should stop trying to disregard her grim existence.

I cleared my throat and neared my mouth onto the hole. “Come here, you pig,” I ordered.

It didn’t take long before I let her in. I glanced at her knuckles. As expected, it was flushed since she knocked hard on the door.

I smirked. “You liked your nickname?”

“Call me that one more time, and I’ll crumple your six-pack-abs into one,” she threatened with a nasty grin, and I still cannot recover from the fact that she’s got the guts to let such words slip from her lips to spit on her employer. Is this girl for real?

Not masking my mug painted with annoyance, I pointed at the hole she created. “If you’re thinking that I’m going to clean up your mess-"

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll pay for it,” she interrupts, waving me off as she scrolls on her phone. “Go wash up. Let’s grab breakfast.”

My brows furrowed. It seems she absolutely has loose screws.

“Woah, you’re the one giving orders now?” I asked, flabbergasted. “Don’t forget your place here.”

I flinched a little when she tapped the coffee table and looked at me with big eyes. What…? Did I just get chills from her stare?

“Just go, will you? You're hungry, aren't you?” she asked with a disgustingly sweet voice she’s been using to me since last night.

Reluctantly, I went to the washroom in my bedroom and took a quick shower.

When I came out, I saw her still on her phone. She quickly noticed me and covered her nose. “What the hell, your perfume…”

“I don’t hear you,” I replied, rolling my eyes. I tapped my pockets, wallet is here, keys, phone... Alright. “Let’s go.”

As we eat across each other, I can’t help but wonder why I am treating this pig to a five-star breakfast. And then I thought, ah, right. I donate to animal shelters. This is kindness to animals. This much should be fine.

“So, what are your plans today?” she asked while chewing her food.

“Nothing,” I answered curtly. “Write a story?”

“Boo, boring,” she remarked.

I glared, but she blatantly blinked away from my gaze and took a sip at her cup of coffee. “I figured you’d be. You have a nice figure but wear glasses. Are you trying to be a fictional character for the delulus? The mysterious, hot guy that turns out to be adorable and quirky? That's pretty lame, Sir.”

I stopped eating and sat properly to study her face.

“I’m wearing contacts today. How did you know I normally wear glasses?” I questioned her with an unintentional deep voice.

Her expression shows she isn’t fazed, but she suddenly reaches back to touch her ponytail. That made me a bit wary of my hair since I forgot to bring a hair tie. But this is not about our hair.

“Well, I looked up your social media accounts before I met you,” she answered collectedly, wiping her mouth with a tissue.

I squinted my eyes at her. Lifting my glass of water to gulp the oily feeling in my mouth, I continued to probe her, “Yeah? When did I have one?”

Probably feeling cornered, she lets out a groan. “Quit interrogating me, bastard.”

I choked on my water and looked at her incredulously. “Bastard?!” I echoed in surprise.

“I ran a background check on you because I didn’t want to keep tabs on shady clients. Happy now?” she explained, then gets on her feet with her head held high while I’m still hung up on the fact that she called me bastard when I let her pass with calling me “dude” hours ago. “If you have nowhere to go, why don’t you come with me to the theater? I’m not interested in playing ‘bored’ with you.”

Wait. I forgot the fact that she's not allowed to run a background check on me.

Anyway, it's needless to say that I was dragged to the theater by my personal bodyguard who changed into casual clothes in the form of a baseball cap, plain black shirt, and sweatpants. I didn’t have to since I threw on a plain white shirt topped with plaid flannel shirt and straight-cut trousers at the outset.

“They are a bit aggressive when they see good-looking men,” she warned me as we entered the building. “If the situation becomes too much to handle, feel free to punch them in the face.”

“I’m not crazy enough to do that. You go punch them for me,” I responded in apathy.

“A’ight.”

This girl is beyond me. She really did attempt to light into the faces of her co-actors who rushed towards me upon entering the auditorium. Luckily, I was able to stop her as I got the vibe that she was going to blame me for it in the end.

“I’m Erin. You’re Caly’s boyfriend?” one of them approached me. I remember this face. The main lead from the play.

I was going to answer “Hell no” but 'Caly' interfered.

“Yeah. Got a problem with that?”

Erin scratched her nape, looking awkward. “Uh, he’s almost done saying ‘no.’”

“Whatever,” Caly hissed and took Erin away from me by the wrist. “Stop bothering him. Where’s coach?”

She looked behind her shoulder to mouth the words, “Don’t go anywhere.”

That’s when it hit harder. What am I doing here, submitting to her demands when I’m the one she’s supposed to serve?

Why am I letting her do it her way when I can have a normal, personal bodyguard that won’t be stupid enough to tell me what to do and won’t be audacious enough to call me 'bastard' right in my face?

Huh. It’s not like I can’t fire her. One word to Raze, and he’ll do the rest for me.

Right. I’ll call him now and leave.

[Huh? But we’ve signed a contract.]

“Can’t you deal with the breach secretly?"

[No. Your father will find out. What’s wrong with your bodyguard, Master? Is she bothering you?]

“It's worse than that,” I returned weakly, then disconnected the call.

She’s worse than a bother, but having my father tracking my whereabouts would be worse.

I released a heavy breath and lifted my gaze to the stage. I saw Caly and her co-actors attentively listening to their acting coach as he talked about stories from the options he provided, so they could choose what to perform.

This is not at all new to me since I was a part of theater club during high school. That’s also the reason I have a grasp on giving criticism to the actors and plays I watch.

“…This is fresh children’s fiction written by Live.”

Did I hear that right? I paused my breathing to listen to the coach’s next words.

“It’s entitled My Sweet Sasin.”

My lips broke a smile.

It’s my story.

In the end, they picked that story to perform in two months. It’s just a short play intended for a few adults and kindergarten kids on a field trip to watch, but still, I’m happy to have my work recognized like this. It’s not dumb unlike what my father had said.

Going back, this resulted in me going back to the hotel in a really good mood despite being mobbed by the performers in the theater.

I’m aware of the lighter atmosphere around me, so I didn’t mind when it caught Caly’s attention while driving. She didn’t ask, but from my peripheral view, I saw her snicker. She probably already knew about it, since she told me she did a background check on me.

Because I’m in high spirits, I let Caly take advantage of it by succumbing to her request to have dinner at a fine-dining place she said she'd been eyeing. The dishes are chef’s kiss, hence it’s just reasonable that the bill made me clear my throat. Surely, it’s going to be hard coming back here, and it’s not that I can’t afford it. Before I came to this country, I decided to use my credit card only occasionally, so I keep my cash in check.

After all that was said and done, I paid for our food without hesitation.

“Let’s go there more often, hmm?” Caly pushed her luck as we stepped into the lift.

I pressed the numbers since she didn’t look like she would. “The bill kind of wore my mood thin,” I replied. It’s not true that I feel less giddy now, but I really should go back to my normal self. Being in a good mood is dangerous for me while being with this pig.

“What a letdown!”

“Shut up.”

Going to the theater with Caly went on for a week. At the same time, we went to different restaurants she recommends and paid for dinner alternately, as if we're close friends. Heck, the thought gives me goosebumps. Of course, we still get showdowns of heaven and hell. Had it not been for the fact that they're doing my story, sparing a moment to think about coming is so much as wasting my time.

Also, the pig sucks- I mean Caly. Not the real pigs, no offense.

They've started the auditions for the lead roles, and I can pretty much conclude that Erin will get it again, given that her personality seems closer to that of the protagonist.

Caly, on the other hand, though she's got a nice, singing voice, just-right dancing, and amazing memorization skills, when it comes to internalization, she just doesn't get it. And it's probably because of her annoying personality.

I felt her gloom every ride back home, but I pretended like I didn't. I don't really care. I only take it as a leverage that she seems to be acting more properly when she's like that. However, tonight, something's different about her.

"How was my performance earlier?"

"Ugly. Unsightly. Disgusting."

No reply. Yeah. Go cry to mom. Not to me.

The time I entered my room, I thought she had entered hers too, so I was taken aback when I turned to check again if I locked the door and saw her grinning face. Before I knew it, I had already uttered, “Pig witch!”

Her face turned sour, then she started cracking her knuckles, marching towards me in the process.

I could only sigh in disappointment as I walked backwards. I mean, I’ve always called her pig, and now pig witch? Why is it always pig when it can be knobdobber or fickfehler. I should've maxed it out, since it seems I’m going to meet her iron fist anyway-

“Are you kidding me?” I whined with facepalm when she had me pinned against the wall. I tried to push her but dang, the difference in strength is unbelievable! Maybe because I haven’t been hitting the gym for months now.

“Hey, you,” she called out in her low voice, so I dropped my hand to the side to land my gaze at her. But as I did, I accidentally nudged her cap off, which she didn't mind.

Which I did mind, on the other hand.

Getting a closer look at her face, it made me think like this for a bit: Ah, she’s gorgeous, no doubt about it.

“Help me get the lead role.”

I didn’t answer and raised a brow at her instead. Why would I help her with anything when all she did was annoy me?

“I’ll tell them you can be our playwright,” she says, her voice remained the same, but her eyes were almost begging. “Rewrite the playscript and help me get the role. I want to be the lead for once, just once. Help me out… Sir.”

I gulped.