The Bellingerre Series Book #1: The Billionaire & The Trophy Wife

Prologue

This is the beginning of my end!

The gloomy London skies can't come close to how upset I feel. If they could reflect my emotions, it would be more of a storm accompanied by winds strong enough to carry my bloody parents to oblivion and beyond. Yes, I want that. I want them carried away to some far away planet where their plotting and scheming won't affect me!

If only I could jump in front of a train! But no. I love myself too much to die all splattered up. If only I could keep crying. That ugly crying mother hates where I wail like a mad woman. I did that all night and my eyes have had enough of that.

I forced myself to sit up on my bed when I heard the familiar sound of heels tapping the old crickety wood floors leading up to my bedroom door.

I hate that sound. It always paves way to mother dearest.

The horror that met her eyes when she swung my bedroom door open is enough to make her as pale as death.

"Good morning mother." I greeted her with an impeccable smile.

My face has smudged make up. I am sure I resemble a crying clown. There is a half eaten pizza on my bed and not to mention the ripped candy blue dress she intended to make me wear for this damn meeting tonight.

"You ungrateful brat!" She snarled like a rabid animal. "That dress was from the House of Aria!"

Yes, I ripped a dress that could suffice as someone's yearly salary and I am not bothered. Dresses and shoes don't preoccupy my mind as they do the minds of shallow ones. I have more important things to think about like building a source of renewable energy and this woman wants me to look like a doll to please a man. Bloody hell? The world is upside down!

"Who cares! The world is ending anyway." It's ending.

I grabbed a slice of pizza when she slapped it out of my hand. In the process of kicking it she tripped on the cheesy delight and her shoes sent her tumbling down like a sack of potatoes. Now this is the highlight of today! I laughed so hard falling back on my bed. I have been told my laughter in is as wicked as a witch. I don't laugh gracefully! Where is the fun in that?

But alas the laughter had to cease when a fierce pair of emerald eyes gazed down at me. I pretended to be serious but I am dying inside.

"This is no way to behave young lady. Sit up straight!"

"Yes father." I agreed immediately standing up instead of sitting.

When my father orders, I obey. Mother, not so much. There's room for debate and arguing and eventually walking out on her.

He helped my mother up and the two gave me a look of disdain that made me feel as awkward as a cow on ice. I cringed and avoided their eyes. Maybe I shouldn't have laughed so loudly.

"Get yourself together. Our guests will be arriving soon! Remember, first impressions are everything!" My mother instructed me. "We will have a grand wedding!"

Before I got a chance to be alone so that I could laugh a little harder over the way she fell, a maid brought in yet another dress. This one is olive colored with beautiful diamond crusted cap sleeves and a slightly plunging neckline. I want to hate it but I somewhat like it.

Give it to mother to have a backup plan. It's like she knows what my intentions are before I even act.

I took my time to put my make on, to practise my smiles in front of the mirror and to be as plastic and as well rehearsed as my mother would please.

Once I was satisfied she would approve, I made my way downstairs to the drawing room where my parents are having evening tea.

I stopped a few steps shy of entry eavesdropping on the conversation between my parents and a man who has set up this entire madness.

I hadn't picked up enough to make much of a conversation when I caught a strong scent close to me. It is almost sweet but not quite there with a luring power to it that got me curious.

"What are we listening to?" His voice caught my attention immediately.

I slowly stood up straight and faced him, embarrassed that I have been caught eavesdropping.

He is a handsome man with a curious gaze in his dark brown eyes. He is clean shaved with lips that are begging to be kissed more so when he licked them playfully. How well mother has played me. The woman has played an unfair game by picking the fairest man in London. She has dropped a dead gorgeous man in front of me and is daring me to say no; so good looking I am not sure I'll be able to say no. It would be madness to say no!

"Nothing."

"The paintings don't do you justice." He whispered. "You are beautiful."

My cheeks burned slightly when his eyes arrested mine in a stare off. He has definitely seen the painted family portrait in the foyer. My mother believes our beautiful faces serve as a great welcome for guests more so single bachelors -who she loves to entertain - with deep pockets like the man standing before me.

When we heard movement behind us, we both stood facing the doors awaiting what was behind them. He seems as nervous as I am.

Has he been set up too or is this his doing and he's just pretending?

He stands comfortably at six feet. I don't like short men. Short men are fussy! He has dark hair neatly combed back not even a strand out of place. He is lean in a sinewy way with enough muscle to show off under his bespoke suit. He is too perfect. Why? Why is he perfect? What do they call him? I don't remember anything mother said about him other than rich blah blah rich blah blah high society rich blah blah. I can't remove my eyes from him. She has outdone herself with this one! She deserved a trophy but wait, I am the trophy. I ripped my eyes away from him.

"Miss Bea, Sir Anthony, your parents will see you now." My family's butler gave us way and we joined our parents. His father is a serious man with cold eyes. He stood up when I entered the room. He walked up to me kissing my hand.

"Aren't you lovely." He remarked. "Quite lovely, right Marc?"

Aha! Marc Anthony! That is the bloody name!

His son smiled fleetingly. He's definitely being forced into this too. Perhaps we can contort a scheme of our own to escape this trap called marriage!

"Thank you." I tried not to say something rude to him for fear my mother may just hurl her shoe at me.

"You two will make beautiful babies!" My mother exclaimed in excitement when she saw us together.

She is already thinking of babies and I haven't even gotten a wedding gown. The man hasn't even proposed nor has he even said he wants to marry me and she is thinking of babies?

"Now now darling, slow down." My father said with a smile. Thank goodness! Someone sensible lives! "First we marry her off, then the babies will follow."

My father stood up and joined us placing my hand in the stranger's warm hand. He wrapped his fingers around my own triggering multiple sparks within me. I suddenly burned hot like the sun when he settled his dark brown eyes on my emerald pair. They smiled at me as much as his face stayed void of emotion.

"Bea Bianca, this is Marc Anthony Bellingerre, your soon to be husband."

I stared into the man's torrid brown eyes and suddenly felt sick to my stomach at the thought of being passed over like a possession. It must be the pizza that is unsettling me. I have eaten two boxes and half.

Without a regret in the world, I retracted my hand and puked all over him rather generously as he stood there looking more horrified than my mother who would have passed out not because of concern for me but shame and embarrassment.

When I was done, I gazed at the horrified faces and ran off faster than Cinderella did when the clock struck midnight.

What a horrid start... It is indeed the beginning of the end.