Billionaire's Contracted Wife

Chapter 2: Reality

High up on the 25th floor, I had a bird's eye's view of the city under grey clouds, but I wasn't paying much mind to the gloomy weather but to admire the view. 

My eyes shifted to the side again and became glazed with a glossy layer of tears. As I blinked, they fell from my eyes and trailed down my cheeks. I bit my lower lip tightly in an attempt to hide any sound that wanted to escape from my mouth; my heart sank.

To get my mind off of things from the unexpected fold of yesterday's meeting, I stepped into my diamond white office and took a seat at my desk, and logged into my laptop.

Zoning out as I waited for the page to load on the screen, I wondered what Logan would do to me if I continued to defy him. A shiver of anticipation ran through my body, sending waves of pleasure through me. I shut my eyes, trying to remove the lewd thoughts in my head, but I couldn't fight it any longer.

"I hold all authority in my company, not you!"

He scoffed, pulling back. I attempted to walk away, but this time he caught my hand and pushed me against the wall. A small gasp escapes from my lips as both of my arms rise up against the wall and suddenly, he crashes his lips against mine. I instantly opened my mouth to him, wrapping my arms around his neck, and my hands immediately went into his hair as our tongues met. With his mouth still on mine, he leaned down and grabbed my thighs, picking me up in his strong arms, and pushed me up against the wall. He breaks away and moves downwards to attack my neck. He licked along my collarbones, as his hands roamed possessively over my breasts. He tugged the top of my dress down, and a soft moan escaped my parted lips as he took me in his mouth and pressed his wet tongue around my hardening...

Ring. Ring.

The sound of my office phone went off like a crying baby, forcing me back into reality and rendering any s****l thought impossible. Coming back to my senses, I flatten out the hem of my knee-grazing sexy black dress. It had an unusual asymmetric plunge to the neckline and displayed my cleavage quite heavily. 

I pulled out of my seat as I tried to recollect myself when I suddenly felt a warm sensation intensify inside me, and I could feel how aroused I was. I can't believe I just did that. 

I cleared my throat, grazing my fingers lightly over my sleek bun, and answered the call. "Yes?" 

"Your one o'clock interview with Prestige Magazine is here," Delancey, my assistant, informs me. 

"Send her in," I drawl before ending the call. 

Why was it suddenly so hot in here?

The massive glass doors open, and a young journalist enters, with her blonde hair tied up in a high ponytail. The sound of her heels on the polished white marble floor made her sound a lot smaller than she was. 

"Hello, Ms. Royce, I'm Stephanie Huntington from Prestige Magazine to ask you a few questions. It's a pleasure to meet you finally," she greets as I warmly motioned her to a chair.

"Oh, the pleasure is all mine," I say, putting on my best fake smile as my eyes trail down her effortless attire, which consisted of a white ruffled blouse tucked in a black mid-length skirt.

"Tell me, Ms. Huntington, what do you want to talk about?" I ask her, leaning against my desk.

"Few things are of interest to me, Ms. Royce. But, can I ask why you refused the interview before your team decided to reschedule with us?" 

I narrowed my eyes at her. "I'm a very busy woman, Ms. Huntington," I say, bearing a smile. 

Truthfully, the Board of Directors made me reconsider and forced me to do this interview. It's good publicity for the business, and the younger social media demographic wants to know the latest insider on the life of heiress Celeste Royce.

Growing tired of the rate this interview is going, I decided to put a move on things. I have a lot to do today.

"As I said, I'm a very busy woman, so you have exactly ten minutes of my time. Use them wisely, darling." 

"Yes, of course." She says, tightening her ponytail with her trembling, pale hands.

"I'll give you a quick tour of this floor and where I spend most of my time when I'm not in my office. We can walk and talk." I tell her, stepping out of my office.

Our heels clicked against the white marble floors as we strolled down the long hallway with awards and beautiful portraits of myself hung from the walls and into the main area. Delancey's white receptionist desk is the first thing one will see once entering the floor after arriving from the elevators. 

"You've already met my executive assistant, Delancey," I say, resting my arms on her desk. "She's an integral part of this company and has her M.B.A. and two degrees in Finance. She's my right hand. I trust her entirely, not only with business affairs but also with my personal life. She knows me inside out," I say, smiling. 

I walk into the lounge used mainly for my guests when I notice she engaged in conversation with Delancey. She was wearing my patience thin, and I didn't have time to watch them converse. 

"Keep up, please," I called over my shoulder before rolling my eyes behind her back.

The journalist pants out of breath as she tries to recollect herself professionally though she was doing a poor job. Sure, she's done a decent job of primping herself up, but the signs were there. Her eyes were bloodshot from a lack of sleep, her face riddled with frown marks, her gestures straining, and I noticed her hands trembling now and then.

"For those of us that are unaware of the importance of your job, can you please share what it is you do?"

"I'm the head of RoyceAir, which is a highly successful division of Royce Enterprises that specializes in building luxurious and exclusive corporate jets," I tell her, rearranging the pink peonies that were out of place in the glass vase on the table. 

"It says here that RoyceAir will be developing the fastest supersonic jets the world has ever seen. I'm surprised you haven't yet released electric planes considering how long the company has been around," she says.

"Aviation is a fundamentally conservative industry. We don't like to take risks because we don't want planes to fall out of the sky, and I think it's more important that we work on our carbon footprint here on the ground first. Your gas-guzzling car might not emit as much as a plane, but it's still a lot," I say, folding my arms over my chest.  

Clearing her throat, she flashes me an equally forced smile. 

"Your Father, Rick Royce, is a mighty man in the corporate world and is featured in Prestige Magazine all the time. Do you ever feel everything in life has always been easy and handed to you because of him?" 

"My Father has always had that work ethic instilled in him from his father. And now I'm just following in their footsteps," I say. 

"Then why hasn't he yet appointed you as C.E.O.? You're just as cunning and intelligent as he is unless, of course, you will be working under someone else," she says, narrowing her eyes at me. 

"Let's be clear on one thing; I will never work under anyone. I'm the future heiress of Royce Enterprises, and that will never change," I say boldly, furrowing my brows at her.

"I'm curious how someone with a reputation as a notorious party girl has secured an executive position in one of the largest corporations in America and supposedly single handedly. Do you find that you have to work double as hard to keep up impressions in front of reporters, say like me?" She asks, which only irritates me more. 

"I'm not sure what you're trying to get at, Ms. Huntington, but if I were you, I wouldn't worry about how I will impress you, but how you will impress me," I say, squinting my eyes at her. 

"Of course, Ms. Royce, I didn't mean to offend you I-"

"I think your ten minutes is just about up. I'll see you out, darling,"

I turn my back to her and proceed towards the elevators. Well, this is undoubtedly the last time I'm ever giving an interview for Prestige magazine again.

I stepped out of the elevator and into the lobby, flooding with guests, workers, and clients. 

"Thank you so much for your time today and for allowing us into your head office. Our stylist and photographer will be arriving later for the photoshoot," she says. 

"Sure," I speak in a monotone, folding my arms over my chest. 

"Well, have a great day, Ms. Royce. All the best," she says before nervously walking out.

I rest my elbows against the front desk as I massage my temples to ease the minor headache that this derisory interview has caused me. 

"Rough interview, huh?" Wayne MacLoughlin, the current manager of Royce Tower, asks.

"There's no such thing as a rough interview with me, but it would help if they sent a less incompetent journalist," I say, fixing my posture as he laughs lightheartedly at my remark.

I smile despite myself being annoyed at the unfold of this unpleasant interview.

"I should get back to my office," 

"Don't overwork yourself, Ms. Royce. You didn't leave the office until after midnight last night." He informs me, furrowing his brows.

"Are you keeping tabs on me?" I smirk, folding my arms over my chest, waiting for his response.

"I monitor the security camera. It's my job to have eyes everywhere." He says as he adjusts the collars of his navy suit.

"Well, you're doing a great job, Wayne," 

I say my goodbyes to him and step into the elevator as I head back to my office. 

"That was quick; how did it go?" Delancey asks, walking towards me as I exit the elevator.

"I think I scared her off," I admit truthfully, admiring my long, painted red nails.

"I told you to be nice to this one." She grinds out. 

"I am nice,” until you push my b***h button. “Now, if you don't mind, I have a lot of work to do," I say, heading into my office.

"Wayne told me you have been leaving the office after midnight all week." She says, folding her arms over her chest.

"Hm, I never took Wayne as the stalking type," I scoff, which only infuriates her more.

"You do realize that even if you work double as hard, they aren't going to change their minds about giving you your position back," she says, which only causes me to grow angrier and annoyed. "You need to get your head out of the clouds and realize that the corporate world is a cruel place for powerful women! Celeste, you're the richest heiress in the world. You don't need money, so why put yourself through all this stress?"

I shake my head, "It's not about money Delancey, I haven't needed money since I was born. It's about proving myself to these assholes!"

"You've been proving yourself for years, Celeste. And they refuse to give you the recognition you deserve. If you insist on keeping your company, then maybe you should consider forming a strategic alliance with another billionaire, which we all know won't be a problem for you, then we'll see how the Lockwoods stand against you,"

"You want me to ask another man for help?" I whisper in disbelief. That was her brilliant plan? Run and cry to another billionaire for help and admit that I can't handle the situation on my own?

"I'm not going to give up on Royce Enterprises. I refuse to be the weak little girl they are portraying me as,"

A sigh escapes Delancey's lips, "Celeste, you are a woman. This is how we gain power. When you have the heirs of the most powerful families in the world, in the palm of your dainty little hands, you use them when someone tries to mess with you!" 

"I can handle my own company! I don't need a man to do everything for me. I'm not you!" It's a cheap shot, I'm aware. Most women would've angrily stormed out at that point, enraged at the accusation of being called a w***e, but Delancey stood there.

"No, you're not, because I'm not the one sitting here in some nightmare while everything I care about is taken from me. I will always do what I have to in order to survive, so maybe instead of judging me, you should try to be a little more like me, because this whole, 'I am an independent woman' crap is all a great theory, but we don't live in some fantasy world of equality. It's a man's world. We both know this, but they do it through women, and you need to grow up and realize that!"  

Delancey is the closest thing I have to a sister; she tells me what I need to hear instead of what I want to hear. I don't pay her $1000 a day for nothing. But, if she doesn't shut her mouth, I will fire her.  

"Okay, Delancey, I've heard enough. I have to get ready for my photoshoot. Please ensure no one bothers me for the remainder of the day, and that includes you," I say, turning my back to her. 

A sigh escapes her lips. "Of course," she says, shutting the door behind her. 

***

I returned to the office and sat on my desk for what felt like hours, and the paperwork kept piling higher and higher. So much for saving the trees. I was in the middle of reading through my contracts when my office phone rang. 

"Delancey, what is it now?" 

"Your father called an important meeting in the conference room, and all employees must attend." 

Great. 

All heads turned to me as my black Louboutin heels clicked against the limestone flooring. The room was full of reporters, employees, including the heads of each department, managers, consultants, receptionists, everyone.

I watched as my father stood on the podium. The way his eyes narrowed as he glared at me for being late should've frightened me, but honestly, I could care less; after everything he's put me through, he should be happy that I'm even here. 

"I have called you all here to address an exciting change that we're making here at Royce Enterprises. I am officially retiring. While my daughter remains the face of the company, we have agreed to sell the company to a corporation whose plan is to grow Royce Enterprises' revenue. We're moving towards a revolutionary movement between two powerful companies, so please give a warm welcome to Mr. Logan Lockwood, the majority shareholder and chairman of Lockwood Industries!" My father announces abruptly. 

I furrow my eyebrows, folding my arms over my chest, watching Logan take a step forward as the room filled with claps, and flashing lights, erupt in a cacophony of blinking lights around the room. 

"Of course, none of this would've been possible without Mr. Royce, so thank you for that," Logan says proudly. 

He didn't lack any confidence addressing the 900+ employees standing before him, and he owned that fiery dark, brooding look. But what some people may call self-assurance. I saw it as arrogance. He gave off an egotistical feeling with his sharp upturned nose while his perfect lips pursed in a mean and cold way. It also didn't help that his face was incredibly handsome. It was the kind that was devilishly charismatic with a chilling aura that people don't dare to look straight at when in his presence.  

"Starting today, I will be the only one in charge of all major decisions. No other member of staff, including Ms. Royce, can substitute for approval. Your complete dedication is vital to move forward. Any behavior seen to obstruct or hinder the new policies will result in expulsion. There will be no exceptions," 

I raised my chin in defiance as our gaze lingered on one another for a moment. I could feel my entire body slowly boil with a white hot rage. 

"Thank you. Any questions?" 

I hastily pulled out my seat as the room erupted into an indistinct load of chatter and stormed out, slamming the door behind me. 

"Celeste!" I hear my father call. 

I ignored him and continued to stalk down the hallway.

"Celeste!" He calls in a warning tone.

I release a frustrated breath and slowly turn around on my heel. "How could you possibly leave your entire company in the hands of that charlatan than with your own blood?"  

"Careful Celeste, I am well aware you don't like sharing the attention with anyone, but that's your boss you're insulting," he smirks. 

I can't seem to process how he has freely accepted to sell his company- oh and me- to Logan and welcome him into our home. Now he dares to act as though my legitimate concerns are nothing but the antics of a spoiled child. 

"Daddy, this isn't about the attention. This is about you marrying your daughter off to a manwhore!" I spat, raising my voice slightly as his face tightened in anger.

"Language, Celeste!" He says, rubbing his face in frustration, "Besides, you two will be engaged first." 

"Oh? Should I thank you for giving me a trial period before you eventually force Logan onto me?" I ask, feeling the vein in my neck throb as I argue back.

"How could you think so low of me? I am your father! I want what's best for you, and this is what's best for my company." He exclaims, his blue, deep-set eyes raging in palpable anger.

"What happened to all that talk about hard work?"  

"It took me multiple backstabs, shares of legal problems, and a heart attack to convince me it's just a fallacy! Honestly, Celeste, you've been a disappointment. You cannot be one person at work and another one at home. If you're a party-girl, you're a party-girl. And let's face it. You're a socialite. You don't have the slightest clue on how to run a dynasty!" He scolds me. 

"So this is a form of punishment," I scoff.

"No! This is why there are no women in business!" 

Words left me as I stared into his eyes, burning with anger, and my heart fell silent. I thought my father saw me much more than just a trophy, but I was wrong. This was too much for even me to handle. Hell, now that I'm thinking about it, I don't have any rights at all. My opinions and feelings don't matter to anyone, not even to him. 

He was breaking my heart. 

"You're making me look like a liar, and worse, an abuser sympathizer. And this company, my entire foundation, is specifically about giving women a voice after they have been silenced. And here I am, the daughter of a man who's trying to silence them!" 

He clenches his jaw, loosening his tie around his collar as his eyes rage in a fury.

"You can't force me to be silent. I'll expose everything to the press!" 

"No, you won't." He laughs.

"And how do you know that?"

"Because I know my daughter, and I know when it comes to your inheritance, money will always win out," My head shot up as I looked up at my father with widened eyes. 

"I've been living without your money for years. I think I'll do just fine." I defend. 

"Celeste, don't kid yourself. I raised you better than that. Do you think that I haven't been supporting you? You would be miserable without me paying for everything. You're dependent on me," he scoffs coldly. 

My eyes, instinctively, watered in reaction, but I held them back, not wanting to show any sign of weakness in front of this cold-hearted man so he wouldn't throw it back in my face later.

"That's not true. I've built a name for myself and-"

"You haven't earned a single thing in your life! I've given you the life that other girls wish they could have. I spent hundreds of thousands of dollars sending you to the most prestigious private schools for the best education. I pay for all those trips you go to overseas, and I got your position at Royce Enterprises. You almost cost me my company once; you will not cost me this billion dollar investment deal," his voice deepens as he takes a frightening step closer to me. "You will work closely under Logan and do everything he says. Is that clear?"

I roll my eyes and nod my head in spite. "Yes,"  

"Good, now that we've come to an understanding, you will make your first public appearance with Logan at the Stark's charity gala tomorrow night to announce your engagement to the world." He orders.

I scoff. "Is that all?" 

His mouth thins slightly. "I would prefer if you dress appropriately, as your actions are a reflection of the business, and you represent me," his tone is abruptly dark. He furrowed his eyebrows at my borderline inappropriate office attire. I was still adorning the sexy black dress from my interview.

"It's ironic how you talk about appropriate representation when you're allowing a man who has been with half the models in Manhattan into our family," I say bitterly, trying to convey my anger at his lack of reverence to our family's reputation. 

"I'm not letting anyone into our family," he assures me, raising his arm to touch my shoulder gently. "I agreed to a very prudent business offer that will make all of our lives simpler,"

"And conveniently richer." I drawled under my breath, rolling my eyes.

He sighed heavily, placing a hand on the side of my face. "I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me, and perhaps one day you'll understand the importance of self-sacrifices." He says calmly, letting his hands trail slowly down my arms.

I look up at him with only my eyes, "I don't think I'll ever fathom how freely you can sell me off to a man I don't even love. But, if you are convinced that this temporary arrangement will serve in the best interest of the company, I will try to be civil," 

"That's my girl," he smiles, chucking me under my chin before walking away. 

Well, for now.