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Chapter 2

He's standing in front of me.

Jamie Estevan.

In the flesh.

And let me tell you, the magazines don't do him any justice.

Despite the situation I am in, I can't help but take in the beauty.

He stands at five feet nine, if not six, four feet taller than me, and looks magnificently handcrafted by God.

That is until he opened his mouth and spoke "how dare you lay your disgusting hands on my fiancée?"

You will think someone this good-looking, educated and obviously well mannered, will have the decency to ask what happened, rather than act out.

He and his fiancée were meant for each other.

"your fiancée came at me. It was an honest mistake. I was ready to pay for her dress if it came down to it, but she insisted on belittling me. I may be poor or whatever, but under no circumstance will I allow another human talk down on me" I bite back.

He looked taken aback by my comeback but I wasn't going to back down. I wasn't going to let him know I terrified I was of the situation I am faced with. Because if I did show him how scared I was, he would use that to torture me some more.

"you are not even remorseful about laying your hands on my fiancée," he said in a low tune that frightened me but at the same time, it sent shivers down my spine.

I was in some real deepshit, I shouldn't be having these thoughts. He was an arse.

Maybe I should have been more careful with how I throw my words. But then again he shouldn't expect me to just take all his insults without any fights.

I've lived through that for years. No more.

"excuse you!! did you not hear what I just said? it was an honest mistake. It could have happened to you-" he shushed me before I could complete what I was saying.

Rude.

"It can't happen to me, for the simple reason being I am not clumsy and I have people to cater for those kinds of things," he said this time around with a smug on his face at the end of his sentence.

I rolled my eyes. Typical of rich people.

"This is exactly why I can't stand rich people. 'oh I'm soo rich I'm going to hire one thousand maids. One to rub my feet, another one to feed me' how much is the dress anyways, I'll pay for it" I but back.

He laughed, he freaking laughed.

Jesus Christ!! Can he be any more annoying?

"you can't pay for her dress even if you saved up for the next ten years"

"don't be daft. Of course I can. What dress is worth ten years of savings anyways?" I asked because this is utter rubbish.

"Vera Wong, specially designed for my fiancée"

Vera Fucking Wong.

Who the fuck wears Vera Wong to a coffee shop?

"Aren't you mega-rich? How come your lovely fiancée buys coffee from a 5000 francs CFA shop? Can't afford a coffee maker?" I asked with a cocky attitude because what the actual hell.

It doesn't make any sense.

He rubbed his spot between his brows, chuckled and said "asides being mega-rich, we are also philanthropists, if we don't but from 'cheap coffee shops' you won't be able to afford whatever cheap meal you eat and you won't be able to pay for rents in the hellhole you live in" now it was his turn to smirk and I swear it was the sexiest things ever.

What the fuck AC? He's an asshole.

I smiled. Not because what he said was funny. But because I was mentally picturing him on fire.

What a delightful sight.

"anyways" he added " I'll go to the front and tell them to keep you in here until you pay for the dress you ruined"

He was about to leave when I said "Where's your fiancée anyways, she's too scared ill whoop her ass again?

"no, she sent me here because your face terrifies her. I don't want her having nightmares " and he was gone.

In situations like this, I wish murder was legalized.

I sat, in the end, thinking of how to get myself out of this mess. Lord God take the wheel.

Shouldn't Dylan be here by now?

"I said let me see my best friend" speak of the devil he shall appear. Only this time the devil is a "she" and it's my best friend.

"She's not allowed any visitors at the moment " I heard a voice say. I'm guessing officer means.

"Oh but what's-his-face here is allowed to see her? He's not even related to her for fucks sake. I am her sister, I have every right to see her" Dylan wasn't going to back down.

Oh and the nickname? Creative Dylan. I gave her mental applause.

"he's allowed to see her because he is the plaintiff and they're working on an agreement" I heard the officer mean say

" even so, I have the rights to see her"

"ma'am you'd better tune it down, else I'll lock you up to"

"on what charges? on what fucking charges?"

Oh Oh, officer means has woke the beast.

Even though I'm happy Dylan is fighting for me, I don't want her to get into any trouble.

"Ma'am please calm down" I hear another voice this time and it sounds like the young lad who accompanied me to the cell.

At least he was the reasonable one.

Five minutes and I hear nothing. Just silence and it's enough to drive me crazy.

Then whatshisface shows again up.

"What now?" I asked exhausted from seeing his face.

" I have a proposition. Be my daughter's nanny and all charges will be cleared" he said calmly like he did not just drop a bomb.

"and why will I do that?" I asked back.

"Okay fine. He's the bill, her dress costs one million francs CFS, you will have to pay for her medical bill because you laid your hands on her" he smiled. He was deriving pleasure out of this situation.

"oh and your bail is two hundred francs CFA" he added.

Jerk!

"I've already wasted so much time here. And consider this another one of my philanthropic deeds"

Dammit!

"Okay fine I will be your daughter's nanny"

"Great, you start work tomorrow" and he was gone.

In less than five minutes I was out of the cell and my items were handed over to me.

I met Dylan outside who was still clearly upset about everything.

"who the fuck wears Vera Wong to a freaking coffee shop?" I asked furiously.

Because the thought of working for an egoistic moron was not in my To-do list for the year.

"my fiancé," he said as they walked past me and into their car.

....

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