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

Chapter Two: Ultimatum

"Miss Buchanan?"

Miss...

That title is fleeting. Soon it will slip through my fingers as I become Mrs. Bellingerre. The sheer horror of marrying a stranger keeps me awake at night. I'm so exhausted, I can't even keep my eyes open.

Mrs...

I don't understand why the woman is the one to lose everything upon getting married. As if losing my personal space isn't enough, I will also lose my identity as well. I happen to like myself as I am even my name. Why can't Marc Anthony be Mr. Buchanan. Why do I  have to be Mrs. Bellingerre?

Why?

Why am I thinking about him? Why?

The worst part is probably after the vows when a woman is presented with all her husbands names her own getting lost somewhere in there even her first name.

Mrs. Marc Anthony Bellingerre.

"Bloody hell!" I mattered out loud. I already imagine the wedding day, after we are wed. "Ladies and gentlemen, may I present Mr and Mrs Marc Anthony Bellingerre."

I am getting a hyphenated name. Perhaps Mrs. Bea Bianca Buchanan-Bellingerre.

"Mrs. Bea Bianca Buchanan-Bellingerre." I spoke it out loud and found it to be a mouthful of the letter 'b'.

No matter how many trials I make, Mrs isn't sitting well with me. It won't even roll off my tongue properly.

I was thinking so hard I accidentally snapped the pencil I was holding into half.

"Miss Buchanan, are you all right?"

I shoved the broken pencil into the dustbin and stared at my secretary.

"Yes of course. I'm brilliant." I answered. "Are those for me?"

"Are you getting married?" She asked while handing me the papers.

I work as a mechanical engineer but thanks to the male chauvinists I work with, progress is stiffled. I'm stuck doing paper work and kept out of the workrooms. But I'm working on a project of my own. I haven't told the male chauvinists yet.

"What would make you say that?"

"You just called yourself Mrs. Buchanan- Bellingerre. And the whole of London is whispering about your upcoming nuptials with Marc Anthony Bellingerre."

Fiona is far too nosy for my taste. She is always in my business.

"Fiona, can't a girl dream?" I asked with a big pleasant smile.

It is more of a nightmare to become Mrs. Bellingerre than a dream. But most girls would kill to sink their claws into the most eligible bachelor in England. I don't disagree with them.  He's hot. He's good looking. He's rich. Every woman has those three on her checklist. Almost every woman.

"I would want to be Mrs. Bellingerre some day." See? She spoke making a dreamy face. "The babies we would make... Sir Anthony is perfect. He's like a dream."

In a town filled with obsessed women why did the Bellingerres choose me? They are spoilt for choice!

I giggled with her as much as I would rather be throwing up in my mouth. I don't see babies in my future. Not even if Marc Anthony us good looking.

Some dreams aren't worth the headache.

"Well I best be getting back to work now."

"You best do. We don't get paid to dream about Mr. Bellingerre, now do we?" I chided her with a big smile.