Six years ago...
It was a Saturday morning. The breeze whistled loudly. The sun appeared early, shining forth it's radiant glory, saturating the entire atmosphere. The subtle noise of the train going through the neighborhood, coupled with the silent noise from street conversations by passerbys painted Amsterdam as a peaceful place. I had moved there not quite long, still haven't spoken to my father since I woke up outside of town.
My apartment was on the second floor of a tall building that stood halfway down the street, around where the street slightly bend around the corner. Not far from a city bank. It wasn't something elaborate, not too fancy, just something with a nice decor, suitable for a bachelor. I was trying to live under a fake identity, far from my father's legacy so it totally made sense that I wasn't living in extreme wealth and I actually do go out for daily jobs to sort my bills. Just like regular people.
That morning, I was still in bed, feeling drained and tired from the previous night party. I kept on switching sleeping positions until it was about past 11 in the morning that my phone suddenly rang. I reluctantly opened my eyes, my bones screaming of fatigue as I reached for the shelve by my bed without opening my eyes. My hands scrambled through everything that was there, pushing my alarm to the floor before my fingers finally lay on my phone screen. I picked it up, ending the call immediately. I lay back on my chest and continued sleeping until the phone rang a second time.
This time, I had no choice but to answer only to find out it was André. He had gotten a job for me that would pay really well. My eyes opened immediately as I sprang out of bed like a growing seed. I rushed into the bathroom, did a quick one and stumbled on my feet as I rushed to the side I used for my kitchen. I tried to make a toast while I dressed up only to get it burnt. I sighed with frustration before picking up my jacket with the hope of ordering a takeout.
André still hadn't sent me the location where I would be meeting with my employer so I just kept walking down the street, waiting for his response. Then his text came him, directing me to a nearby cafe, just a few blocks to my place.
I was curious. Why meet at a cafe for a job? Could it be that they needed a waiter? I couldn't possibly imagine what the job could be about, so I just hurried up to the place. Whatever it might be, if I can't do it, I will just turn it down.
When I arrived at the location, I looked around for the described table by the road but to my surprise, the employer wasn't there yet. I just settled in and asked for tea while I waited for the person.
About twenty minutes later, a young tall woman, beige eyes, face half covered in hat sat in the chair facing me. Her black silky hair shone with effortless grace as she swirled it over her shoulder like she was flaunting her charm.Her lips round and small, pink like a rose. She had a calm expression, her dress spoke of wealth. For someone born to a wealthy home like me, it didn't take long for me to know she wasn't someone pretending to be rich. She was actually rich.
I was partly stunned that she sat in front of me, since the description I was given didn't paint a feminine image to me. I quickly addressed her with courtesy.
"Ma'am, the table is booked," I said to her.
She tilted her head, looking straight into my eyes as a faint smile crept to her face. "I don't think I'm at the wrong table. You must be Asher," she replied.
I was stunned. My conscience judged me that I reacted too soon. She was the employer.
"Yes, I am. Pleasure to make your aquitance," I stretched out my hand for a hand shake.
"Good looks, formal English. I think you will fit in just fine for the job," she replied. "I'm Stella."
"Sorry for how i reacted, André didn't tell me I would be meeting with a woman."
"Oh that," she crossed her legs. "He must have gotten the impression that I am a guy when he spoke with my secretary."
Her secretary? Ordinary rich people don't have secretaries. Just who in the world is she?
"I see. So, what's the job?"
"Quick to action," she said, leaning close to whisper like what she was about to utter was forbidden. "I need you to marry me."
I was stunned, my mouth dropped to my jaw. Marry you? Why would I marry a random woman? Even if I wanted a job, I wasn't ready for such responsibility.
"I don't think I'm interested in that," I was immediate to point out. Without hesitation, I sprang to my feet but she held down my hand.
"I'll pay 1 million every month," she pleaded.
One million? Just like that? What could have made her this desperate?
"1.5 million and we have a deal," I responded.
"It is done," she whispered. "Come with me," she ordered.
I left the payment for my tea on the table and followed her out of the place. In her mind, I bet she must have been thinking I was a golddigger but that kind of money was actually nothing compared to my actual networth. For a reason I could not explain, I just wanted to help her out, or at least find out who she really was.
She took me straight to a pink Lamborghini Urus parked by the road. The entire atmosphere screamed luxury. We both hopped in. She turned the ignition, and we drove out of there. On our way to the registry, she began to explain everything to me.
"My name is Stella like I already told you. Stella Van Heemstra."
Van Heemstra? That name. It suddenly sounded so familiar... Like something that came out of a Forbes magazine. Then it clicked, I knew that name. Van Heemstra holdings, one of the wealthiest business corporations in Europe. Could she be a con? If she isn't, why does she want to get married to a random person? It made absolutely no sense and I couldn't wait to find out.
"A name like yours comes with a lot of expectations," I commented.
"Finally, someone gets me," she replied with excitement.
A car suddenly cut in front of ours, she had to hit the brakes in time or we would have crashed into the vehicle. She immediately leaned out and cussed the driver out before driving away from the place.
"So, here's the thing. Father wants me to marry a wealthy asshole but I have someone I'm in love with. To defy him, I'll marry you then once everything dies down, we'll divorce. I'll pay you 1.5 million every month like we agreed to for the period of our deal. In return, you are not allowed to talk about this deal, and you are completely my responsibility as well as property."
Be her property? Did she think I was a toy that could be purchased?
But I didn't have a reason to object, it did seem like an incredible plan to me. I didn't care about her but I do care about anyone that wants to rebel against their controlling father. I would even do this for free, but since she insisted on paying, I'll just take it from her.
She handed me a non disclosure form on our way to the registry and I signed without a second thought. By the time we arrived at the place, her secretary was already waiting with a suit and two hired witnesses. Right at that point, I married Stella Van Heemstra and before we even left the place, the salary for the first month was already wired into my account.
The first night that we spent at a hotel, I knew what it meant to suffer for the first time in my life. She invited her lover over and they fucked all night, while I squeezed up in the couch, disturbed by the loud moaning. I thought this would be the end of it, but it wasn't. Even after I moved with her to her mansion, her lover came to live with us and they fucked almost every night. This went on for about fourteen months, a cycle of trauma I never did recover from.
During the daylight I was the husband, behind closed doors, the jerk was. They made me do all sorts of chores, and I didn't refuse because I had planned to reveal who I was in the end. She thought I was poor, a golddigger maybe... But I was more than her imagination could comprehend and I couldn't wait to see the reaction on her face when she finds out.
Our marriage was almost two years when her father eventually invited us for dinner after he had finally accepted defeat. According to the terms of my contract with Stella, we were going to divorce shortly after her father accepted our marriage but during the dinner, it didn't seem as if her father's anger had completely dissolved. The two didn't say anything to one another, and I was somehow the victim of this dispute. Her mother was however nice to me. She offered me things I didn't even ask for and she made sure I felt as comfortable as possible.
After dinner that evening, I stood outside their place, waiting for her as she went in to talk to her mother. While I was still there, staring into the abyss, her father suddenly came out the door. He stood not far from where I was. I thought he had come to see me, but he had actually stepped out to smoke. He pulled out a cigarette and ignited it as he stared towards the same angle that I was.
"Do you care for a smoke?" He offered.
"No, thank you. I don't smoke," I replied almost immediately.
Silence fell. We both stood there, quiet, like two brothers beefing.
"You don't actually love my daughter, do you?" He then asked again.
"What made you say so?"
"I know it's arranged. Her secretary told me."
There was nothing to lie about at that point. I just smirked, knowing whatever I said would only complicate things even more.
"I see," I muttered.
"Stella is quite stubborn. My company is drowning and I was just trying to to keep things afloat but she would not listen."
"Quite a fierce girl you have," I commented.
He laughed. "Fierce I tell you. So, why did you marry her?"
"What do you mean? You said it was arranged which suggested I got paid," I tried to evade the question.
"She doesn't know, does she?"
I looked at him astonishingly. What could this old man had found out. "Know what?" I pressed in to be sure.
"That you are a great man yourself, Mr. Barney," he replied.
My charade fell off immediately. I stared in disbelief. I was trying to leave my actual life behind but it doesn't seem as if the life was leaving me.
"How did you know?"
"I did my digging. Whatever reasons you have to have done this, I hope you find satisfaction. All I ask is that you protect my little girl."
That wasn't a threat, that wasn't even an order. That was a helpless father trying to ensure his daughter was safe. His eyes lit up, filling me with this kind of guilt I hadn't felt in a while. That must have been how my father was feeling too, but it was too late to return. For a while now, I had started working on something... Something great... Something I couldn't just forsake.
That night, I disappeared completely from Stella's life. I didn't even tell her goodbye. It wasn't until about four years later that she received a divorce paper from me and up to this moment that she appeared again, she hadn't gotten back to me.
Present day...
She stood there in front of me, angry. I understood why she must have been bitter, I breached our contract. Before I could explain myself, someone suddenly appeared behind her, tall and hefty. Fist drifted towards my face.
Faster than I could blink, I was knocked out.
Cold.