I opened the door expecting to see a trail of roses on the floor and him kneeling with a starry look in his eyes asking me to marry him.
Instead, all I got was him sitting on a chair and nursing a glass of scotch, he looked worn out and for a second my heart went out to him.
He looked up immediately after he heard me come in, "you are home."
I nodded, dropping my keys in the bowl. "Yes, how did your day go?"
"It's better now that you are here." He said.
My heart melted, it was beating in anticipation at what was about to happen. I held in the urge to such in my breath.
"That is so sweet," I said.
All are wanted to do was hug and kiss him for saying that but I held myself back. It was things like this that made me overlook the glaring fact that he might be a murderer.
I waited for him to say something but he said nothing.
"You wanted to discuss something with me?" I promoted him.
"Yes, I did mention that."
He tried to get up from the chair and my heart pounded.
This was it! He was going to propose.
He walked to the table and opened the drawer, my heartbeat increased rapidly at that.
He turned to face me holding out a file, I looked at him confused.
"What is this?" I asked.
"Open it." He said as he trusted the file in my direction.
I took it and opened it, curiosity getting the better of me.
I saw collages of venues and locations of a wedding. I glanced at him with the same confused look.
"What's wrong?" He asked.
I said nothing, I looked down to make sense of what was inside the file.
"Do you like the location? Should we change it?" He asked.
We?
It finally dawned on me that we were thinking differently. I must have misinterpreted the message he sent.
This was not the same thing as being asked to get married to him. I almost laughed at its stupidity.
I was so excited for nothing.
He regarded me with curiosity, waiting for my reaction and when I gave him nothing he finally asked me.
"If you don't like anything, we can change it." He shrugged.
He walked back to his seat and sipped his drink while I remained standing, completely speechless and out of my mind.
He was oblivious to my inner struggles and it showed from the way he was drinking without a care in the world.
Did he think that he would bring up marriage and I would jump up, I was ready to jump but not anymore.
I didn't want to get married to him, I barely knew anything about him besides the fact that he is a multi-billionaire, has a big dick and can send me to a high altitude with his tongue.
Those were the basics, I didn't know anything else, nothing intimate and he wanted to get married?
What did he think marriage was? A contract?
Judging by the file he gave me, he thought so.
He is a murderer, I mean he looked like one. A rich and attractive murderer. How could someone who looked like this murder, murderer
I had no idea if the person was male or female or if he tortured them before killing them.
My body trembled, I was close to running away, far away where he couldn't catch me.
I needed to be away. He placed the empty glass on the table and turned his attention to me.
"What do you think?" He asked.
"About what?" I squeaked.
"The location, the size, and the budget."
"Oh,"
I glanced down at the file once again, my eyes widening when I got a look at the numbers.
"It's okay," I whispered.
"Good," he nodded, "I know most ladies want a specific location and venue but I made sure I found the best." He said.
It felt like I was in prison, listening to him drone on and on about the wedding he wanted me to go to.
Regardless of how I felt about it, Zack's words came tumbling into my head. I could hear it everywhere.
I was aware that he was still talking so I stopped him.
"Hold that thought," I said.
I stumbled to the bathroom, my eyes widening at my reflection.
In one day, I had gone from a masseuse to a mistress and in months, I was a businesswoman. Looking at myself in the mirror showed nothing of that progress.
Staring back at me is a reflection of a scared little girl. My cheeks were flushed with both desire and fear from Killian.
I splashed water on my face, it calmed me down a bit. Dabbing my face with my towel, I headed back to the room.
He was staring out the window, still rooted to that spot. He turned once I came in. If he noticed anything odd about me, he didn't say anything.
"You have to choose your dress, nothing too provocative. I don't want people seeing what's mine." He said.
I scowled at him, laughter bubbling up my throat but I tampered it down.
Was he kidding?
He continued without giving me a chance to talk, I tuned him out.
If I pack my bags and leave the city, would he find me? I know he had the resources but it was a stretch to say he would leave his business and other ladies waiting for him to come looking for me.
"You need a veil, my family is very particular about those." He said.
He kept going on and on, my head was beginning to reject his voice. I could feel a headache coming on and I just wanted to lie down.
I opened my mouth to tell them that we would discuss this later when he froze.
The words I uttered were not meant to be spoken out loud.
"I don't want to marry you."
I froze.