The Landon Billionaires (7 stories)

CHAPTER TWO: NO MORE ILLUSIONS

Demetria sighed as she caught sight of herself in the full-length mirror in front of her. Her wedding dress was perfect; she had been the one to design it with the help of her stylist even if her mother had disapproved. The latter had wanted something which would turn her into a white fountain, but Dem had refused to look ridiculous on her wedding day.

Instead, she had chosen a simple floor length skirt because she had wanted to keep tradition, having included only one layer. It looked more like a simple evening gown, with the floral lace appliqué so delicate that the final outlook was exquisite. She had kept her hairdo to a minimum with a bun at her nape decorated with small pearls. Even if she was not wearing any veil, it gave her a natural look, the outcome portraying her lovelier than she actually was. Glad that she had declined the excess makeup her personal makeup artist Sophia had insisted upon, she meticulously removed the fake eyelashes taking extreme precaution not to smudge her mascara. Usually, she was used to the heavy layers of makeup covering her skin and features but not today. Today she wanted to be more herself than Demetria the heiress.

Everything else would be outrageous anyway. The venue and menu would be grandiose even if they had little money to spare for such frivolous expenses. As from tomorrow onward, they would no longer be lacking in wealth. Thanks to the Landons.

Dem could not help the cynical smile that marred her ethereal look as she continued to contemplate her reflection. Fate had intervened to teach her father a bitter lesson; the very folks whom her father had always mocked were now his savior. The “Landons” had always been the outcast of their society, and their only sin was that they had not been born rich. She could remember every time her father had jumped at an opportunity to make them feel lesser using jargons that had not yet come to terms.

The Landons had been quick learners though, especially Peter Landon. He was a shark quickly grasping the fickle nature of their world and made himself as chameleon as the others. Now because of a deal which had failed with one of her father’s previous partners, they had lost a colossal amount of money. Even if they were not on the verge of bankruptcy, William Hilton would never allow such a dent in his finance.

Therefore, the arranged marriage. Dem had long ago discovered that she would eventually marry for money. With two parents as voracious as hers, there had never been scope for anything else. It had all been clear to her that her life was already set in a certain pathway, and she had no other options than to follow through.

A long time ago when she still had her ideals about herself and her life, she had believed that she would be able to break away from the golden cage. As soon as she had turned eighteen, she had made plans to leave the nest to fly with her own wings. She had then believed that she would finally be free.

However she had underestimated the capacity of William and Bethany Hilton. They were very influential people who would stop at nothing to have their only daughter provide them what they expected of her. She was a robot – they ordered, and she delivered.

So when her parents had made the announcement that her wedding was planned in two months, she had not been surprised. Not really. After that fateful event six years ago, she had no illusions about her parents. They would expect her to bend to their every whim since according to them, she was an over-privileged child.

What had surprised her was the fact that her father had been willing to accept Chase Landon as his son-in-law. She shuddered at the thought of her future husband. Dem considered him the most obnoxious man in her circle since he had a habit of saying what went through his head. Curiously enough, she preferred him to the other prospective grooms her parents had been showcasing to her over the past year. Not that she had refused any of them – no she did not have that luxury. Luckily for her, nothing concrete had been decided. Until now.

At least Chase was no hypocrite like those other spoilt brats. He still had that raw appeal to him which Dem presumed must stem from his previous life. Manners aside, the man was hot as hell. According to the tabloids, he had an Italian background from his maternal grandmother which gave him a sexy allure.

Dem had seen her friends swoon over him enough to know he had a heart of stone and that he still resented the fact that he had been poor. Something which was of bad taste to her since she personally thought that there was no shame in coming from a modest background. Money was so capricious anyway that it could change the best of man.

Like her father at present. Suddenly, the Landons had become more precious than gold when only a month ago, he was still considering them as dirt. She had no idea whether the Landons had felt her father's mean attitude or any of the others. One thing she was sure of it was that Chase did not fit the pack of her society.

Dem had no idea what to expect of Chase and what he expected of her in return. She knew that everybody believed her to be spoilt rotten and frankly that was the way she kept it. Except her associates from her charitable activities, which she made sure were altruists not interested in making the headlines, nobody knew her real nature.

She could fake anything. A smile. A tear. Even pain. Nobody had picked anything from her except on that fateful night when Chase had called her out on the plastic smile accompanied with the empty apology she had given him. That had made her ashamed of herself. Like she always was.

Since then, she had avoided Chase Landon at every social event; something which had proven to be easy since he had never bothered to be near her. Not even when they had been out with their mutual friends. It had suited her just fine. Except she had always felt a pang when he had smiled at her friends, to greet her with cold, frosty looks that could freeze hell over.

It was not fair! Her socialite friends were even more artificial than she was but since avoiding him had been at top of her list, she’d never bothered defending herself. Given the way he made her feel, it had been the safer option to take.

For she knew that during the parties, she had always been aware of him as he had been aware of her. It was too obvious the way they were very careful not to let their eyes clash. Or retain each other's gaze for too long. Or the way they avoided the merest touch.

Dem swallowed hard and sighed again.

Finally, she became aware of some girls fluttering around her to arrange her dress, some sighing with envy. Arrogantly, she looked down on them knowing that they thought she was venerating herself. She smiled inwardly. Let them think she was vain enough to admire herself for so long. Why wouldn’t they? She was raised in a household where vanity was celebrated.

Nobody would know that the reason she was staring at herself was because her head was in such a turmoil; she was too much an expert at hiding her real feelings. She just wished she could skip meeting her mother before walking down to the hall. Somehow, she knew that it was not possible. Bethany would make sure to criticize everything about her and Dem would listen with a benign smile like it did not affect her.

However, it did. She just never showed anything. Like always. Never letting on to her mother that she craved for a compliment or a few words of encouragement. Her mole, a beauty mark on the right corner of her lower lip quivered as she felt the emotions taking toll on her.

Unfortunately, her mother chose that perfect moment to enter her dressing room. The girls fluttered around to wrap up their tasks quickly knowing that Mrs. Hilton would scold them if they did not finish what had to be done. As they left, she felt hope squeezing her heart; maybe her mother would finally realize that Dem had spent her life pleasing her.

It was futile.

“Demetria!!!” she almost shrieked in horror. “Your dress looks so…. mundane,” she finally finished her sentence and Dem knew that Bethany had used the last word because she thought she should being generous on her daughter’s wedding day.

Dem did not take umbrage at her words; she had long learned that ignoring her mother was the best way to deal with her. So instead of replying, she shrugged. Nonchalance was the best weapon to use against her mother; if she gave the slightest inclination of caring, her mother would make a mountain of a molehill just to prove her wrong.

“Where’s father?” she asked after a moment of awkward silence. Their relationship had always been loaded with uncomfortable silences; they had little in common and would barely speak to each other unless strictly necessary.

“He’s waiting for you downstairs. Are you sure you don’t want me to add a…”

Dem inwardly cringed in horror at the suggestion, her face remaining inordinately impassible. “I would love to but we can’t keep father waiting…” she said knowing that her mother would never let go if she allowed her to see how much she was affected. Out of desperation, she was using her trump card; her father hated waiting.

“Yes, yes of course. My poor darling, you look like a widow instead of a bride.”

Finally, she took offense at her mother’s lack of tact. It was something she should have been used to by now, despite the fact that Bethany had a real talent at hurting her. Without a word, she turned away from the mirror and exited the room not even caring if her mother was following her or not.

Stupid tears pricked her eyes, she had to blink several times to hide them away, her eyelashes flushing mildly so as not to mess her makeup. An action she was so used to that she could hardly remember when she’d cried for real. Not since a long long time anyway.

Her father was even worse; he was typing furiously on his blackberry and did not even bother to look up when she reached the top of the staircase. Slowly, she descended the steps one by one praying that her other parent would turn out less cruel.

She vowed to herself that if he looked at her with a tender emotion in his eyes, she would forgive all his sins and play the ideal daughter all her life. When she reached the last step, her father did not even put out his arm like tradition demanded, while Dem had to follow him feeling foolish at her wishful thoughts.

The church was crowded with lots of people, Dem suddenly felt very nervous as thousands of questions tumbled in her head. A sense of irrational panic gripped her, something rare since she was used to being showcased like a trophy ever since she was a little girl. What if she fell down in front of so many people? What if the groom decided at the last minute to cancel the farce they were trying to label as a wedding? It would not be impossible as she had not even met him after the wedding had been announced. Not even once.

Dem had no clue what Chase thought about them being married, she was wise enough though to deduce that Peter Landon must have placed a g*n at his temple. There was no way Chase would have agreed to get married to her otherwise. So what if he had finally found a way to break through his father’s hold on him – whatever it was?

She gulped down her worry, her plastic smile not fading for even a millisecond. Her eyes stayed glued downwards as she was too scared to check if the groom was there. Her father was so insensitive that he would not care anyway only mourning his monetary loss.

She stopped walking when her father stopped, her ears yearning for a hint of what was going on and let a discreet breath of relief when nobody screamed scandal. There was absolute silence, Dem found that she had no courage to look up at her groom, because she was too much a coward. She was too afraid of what she would see in his beautiful blue eyes.

Disgust? Contempt? Or hate? Those were the emotions which had always been present on the rare occasions she had allowed her eyes to meet his. Normally, when she read the emotions of abnegation in his eyes, she always felt curiously detached like she was distinctly separating the cold woman she portrayed and the actual person she actually was. Would she be able to conjure the same indifference today?

As a bride, she found herself hoping foolishly that a miracle might have happened, that somehow Chase was marrying her because he had suddenly grown fond of her. Not even her wildest dreams would she dare wish that he was crazily in love with her, but she found herself wishing that their marriage would stand a chance.

Finally, she looked up. Excruciating disappointment filled her. Chase was not even looking at her! He was looking in the direction of one of the guests, and Dem was too humiliated to care in whose direction it was. Quickly, she bent her head again feeling mortified that her groom was not even interested in looking at her.

It was worse than she could have imagined; it felt like the earth had tilted under her feet, and she suddenly realized that marrying for money had ensured that she would never be loved all her life. It was like living with her parents all over again. Her mother not caring about hurting her feelings on her damned wedding day. Her father not even looking at his only daughter when he was giving her away.

Now her groom not even interested in knowing how she looked. Even if it was a marriage of convenience, he could have the sensitivity to at least look at her. To feign some modicum amount of interest with the female he was going to spend his life with. Then Dem scolded herself.

Hadn't she always wanted the pretense to end? Hadn't she craved for living her life with real feelings even if it was hate instead of making futile attempts to be polite and caring? In spite of her brave front, she could not help feeling bad when the only emotion she could raise in her groom was indifference. As she stood beside Chase, the minister started his preaching and the words were not even making sense. For the first time in her life, Dem felt a weakness which was wrenching her soul.

Feeling a bout of self-pity, she wanted to howl at her destiny. How was it possible that she had so much money but was so poor in other things which mattered more? Like relationships. Friendship. Love.

Despite the maelstrom of emotions which racked her, she stood still with her back straight as she endured another punishment from life.

She could hardly blame Chase for her misgivings; he was only doing what had been asked of him. It was not his fault that the sight of herself in such a beautiful wedding gown had messed up her head. She was not supposed to be having romantic feelings about the groom. Or hopeful insight about her marriage.

Hers would be no different from that of her parents; it would be based on a mutual unspoken understanding. She would do her duty, make a good wife pretending to be content with her domestic obligation. Pretending not to notice when her husband was away, inevitable taking a few mistresses time and again. Pretending not to care when her husband flirted with other beautiful women in front of her.

Pretending to be involved in his life in front of others while in their privacy, their lives would be completely separated. She would not interfere with his, and he would not ask her questions in turn. There would be no real interaction except when absolutely necessary since she would be considered a nuisance if she were to offer her opinion.

Often in her teenage days, she had wondered how her mother could tolerate such an awful treatment, then at eighteen, she’d discovered that even Bethany was not the person she had thought she was. Her mother Bethany was as much to blame as her father; she also had a separate life with a few lovers of her own, of course she was discretion personified when it came to hiding her unfaithfulness.

Not even the press would get a whiff of her mother’s activities and when she got back home from her “social trips”, she was as radiant as ever getting back into the role of Mrs. Hilton. Dem was sure she would eventually learn to play the role of Mrs. Landon as well. It would be tough to adapt at first, but then, she was a pro at pretending.

She would just consider herself as a heroine who had been casted with a new role and would have to work hard in order to get into the character. After all, Demetria Hilton was a fake. Demetria Landon was also just an illusion.

It was no big deal. Now that she had no illusions left, she managed to convince herself that it was no big deal. Like she had done so far, she would survive that ordeal as well. Alone. She was strong and needed no one to be her support. And finally, she was able to look up; she was now in control of her emotions.

In dismay, she realized that it was the exact moment the minister announced that the groom might kiss the bride. All that pep talk evaporated as she found her new gathered wits shattering again. Would he humiliate her now? To herself, she acknowledged that no matter how the kiss presented, she would feel humiliated anyway.

So, when she finally looked into the dim blue-grey pools facing her, she made sure her grey eyes were filled with no emotions at all giving him the blandest look, that her trademark fake smile was plastered on her pokerfaced face. She knew the exact second when her artifice found its mark.

She felt more than saw his jaws clench in anger and felt curiously satisfied for having gauged a reaction from him. Good for him! If he wanted a fake wedding, he would have to bear with a fake wife as well. After all, there was nothing real in her marriage, she forced to remind herself before pouting a little to show him that she was waiting for his kiss.

Even when Chase bent to peck at her lips, she could feel the tension in his body. It was as rigid as a metal and she retreated as soon as she could. It had been the barest flitter, and she had not even felt his lips. It was all she would allow; every guests knew the reason why they were getting married anyway. There was no need to extend the charade too far.

One fleeting second before she averted her eyes again, she saw something in her groom’s eyes. Something akin to bewilderment, it was so quick though that Dem shrugged it aside, blaming it on her current oversensitive feelings.

Finally, after posing for hundreds of photos as they were making their way to the venue where the reception was located, the paparazzi cleared away giving her some time to breathe. Her groom did not comfort her as he must be assuming that she was used to the press. Which in truth, she was. How does one get used to strangers probing one's personal life so ruthlessly though? She would never be comfortable with the media although she never showed it.

As they waved to the people behind, Dem felt her courage slip away when Chase asked her if it would be alright if she went first, and he would follow with his sister behind. She was horrified at having to arrive at her own wedding ceremony alone without her groom. She knew the drill; unloved wives did not cling. It would make an ugly scene and give the vulture reporters an opportunity to trash her life.

So, she smiled and felt a perverse pleasure as she saw Chase flinch. It was almost funny how he could guess how fake her smile was every time. He reacted to her fake smile like it was something which hurt him personally, Dem had never met anyone who could recognize her duplicity so unerringly. Except him.

“Of course,” she muttered picking up her dress on the graveled pathway, making her way towards the awaiting car, her back rigid with pride.

When she walked away from him, the hairs on her neckline tingled and she sensed a powerful force beckoning her, but she did not turn around. Then, unable to resist any longer, just before she got in, she turned around to find Chase standing where she’d left him, wearing a peculiar expression, like he was trying to figure her out. Maybe he was feeling bad about leaving her alone? She should know better; she had just signed a lifetime of loneliness. Dem had a feeling it was only the beginning.

Without a word, she whirled round and got inside the limo where she finally allowed a single tear to trickle down her right cheek.