For both the families, It was just a business deal. A partnership, that would ensure their 'Billionaire' titles. And to top it all off, they even agreed to lump their children's life, by marrying them.
The future couple had a plan of their own. A co...
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I drum my fingers on the steering wheel on beats the of 'X ambassadors'. As the tunes hit a higher range every second the road to my destination hits a new low. I was never one of those Manhattan snobs who scrunch their nose at the mention of Brooklyn as if it was Detroit. But this place made me want to swerve the car back to the civilization every mile. The further I got there gloomier my surroundings became. The cafes, clubs, and tattoo parlors are long forgotten, now I'm beginning to see gang graffitis, shady people, lurking around looking at my car as if it's a piece of meat. When I was given the address to the cafe I was expecting it to be in the heart of Brooklyn, but much to my dismay it is a complete 2-hour drive from my house to the Timbuktu she leaves. It's still an hour drive left according to my GPS then I'll meet soon to be Mrs. Knight. The things I do for my future.
It's still difficult to wrap my head around the events from last night. Never have I ever wanted to hear that I have been a victim of a cruel prank. I am just 25 for God's sake, guys my age are still figuring out life. And here I am, Axel Knight. One of the most desirable bachelors in town, according to the magazines, being threatened into an arranged marriage by my father.
Half an hour's drive away from the cafe, things began to take a shady turn. I had to double-check if the dashcam was working properly because some people looked ready to jump in front of my car for sake of insurance money. My knuckles were throbbing from gripping the steering too hard when I finally reached.
Finger combing my disheveled hair because girls dig this look, I take one last look at the rare view mirror and hope she misses the faint dark circles under my eyes. Last night was difficult for me. Getting the news for my marriage wasn't an easy thing to digest. I gave up on my sleep to plan everything, a full-proof plan. She will definitely agree to it, after much discussion, she will give in. I have persuaded headstrong businessmen, how difficult would a cafe owner be.
I step out of my black Camaro, buttoning up the jacket of my three-piece suit ignoring the curious stares of people. I bet they are mentally battling themselves thinking where they have seen me before. Well, guilty as charged I do look like a celebrity. Call me a narcissist, but this egoistic pig is now standing in front of the cafe of a bigger narcissist. Arianna Bell named her cafe 'Arianna' after herself, maybe we'll get together well.
The cafe looked like a beautiful wildflower rising out from the cracks in the concrete, a sight for sore eyes in this hellhole. This cafe belongs in Manhattan near boutiques. Stepping inside the cafe, the aroma of rich coffee, cocoa and all things sugary hit my senses. It is magnificent, nothing I have ever seen before. Or expected to be seen in this neighborhood. It has a little retro look. But does not give the old vibes. It's simply classic. Elegant enough to catch the elite's attention, modest enough to not give the middle class a shiver. If I were here to acquire the place I would have bid the highest and the interior designer to work with me.
