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Chapter 34
AMAYA
Four hours after I signed Caesar’s contract and got our marriage preparations back on track, my name has been on every single blog in New York City and even on the international new
“Ohmygoddess, Amaya!!” Jayla squeals from her perch on the nearby vanity table. “Chen blog just published the news of your marriage. They’re calling it the most luxurious wedding of the century.”
I frown as my stylist cinches the waist of my dress, making it almost impossible to breathe.
“The most luxurious wedding? Why?”
Jayla drops her iPad and raises a brow at me. “At this point, I’m not sure who exactly is getting married between both of us because I seem to know more about this wedding than you do.”
My stylist smiles and I roll my eyes at my best friend’s antics. The girl is a drama queen, I tell you.
“Please educate me about my wedding, my beautiful queen.” I tease.
Jayla flips her hair over one shoulder and lifts her chin;
“Seeing that you’ve asked so nicely, I guess I’ll have to oblige.” She jumps off the table and comes towards me, iPad in hand.
“You, my friend, are getting married at The Marabella Fortess Estate.”
I shrug. “Sounds quite… serious.”
Jayla widens her eyes at me. “It is serious. The Marabella is amongst the top three most expensive non–residential estates in New York City. It costs two hundred million dollars to book a damn hall at that place, and guess what?”
“What?”
“Caesar has the entire estate booked for the ceremony. He cleared an entire estate just for the wedding! Girl, there are billionaires and then there’s Caesar Manchester. That man has more money than I thought.”
My stomach sinks with nerves. Yesterday, Caesar made it loud and clear that I wasn’t supposed to worry about the wedding preparations. He said he’d handle everything. I was expecting a small garden ceremony. Who would’ve thought that Caesar was planning a grand wedding?
I turn to Jayla, suddenly feeling anxious.
“How many people are going to be there?”
She glances at her iPad.
“About four hundred people. Excluding members of the press.”
My breath catches in my throat. “Four hundred people?” I mutter shakily.
Jayla regards my expression for a moment. I probably look like I swallowed a stale frog.
Suddenly, she says to the stylist; “can you excuse us for a moment?”
The stylist blinks in surprise and turns to me, silently asking for my approval. I just nod. I honestly cannot breathe at the moment. It feels like there’s an invisible noose around my throat choking me.
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I nod and the stylist leaves immediately. After making sure the door is locked, Jayla wraps her arms around my shoulders and leads me to one of the hand–crafted stools.
“Sit.” She orders.
I don’t even have the strength to argue. The train of my too–tight dress flails around me as I sink into the stool. I gladly accept the bottle of cold water she stretches towards me and down half of its content
“You don’t need to act so strong all the time, Amaya. I know you’re upset about the wedding, and it’s perfectly okay to there that you’re upset.”
I shake my head. “No, it’s okay. I’m okay.”
“You’re lying to me.” Jayla says firmly. “I saw you crying at the hospital last night. You literally cried throughout the night. I know you’re not okay, my love. You can talk to me. I’m your best friend, remember?”
My checks redden in embarrassment. The moment I left Caesar’s office yesterday, I went straight to the hospital to check on my son. Thankfully, the doctors had been able to resuscitate him and he was doing fine.
He looked so tiny and in so much pain, couldn’t help my tears. As a mother, it hurts. It hurts to see my child in pain knowing there’s nothing I can do to help him but wait.
I did cry last night. I cried the entire night, even. I just didn’t think anyone was watching.
I take a deep breath and hold Jayla’s gaze; “I don’t want to get married to Caesar, but I have to because I don’t want my child to die.” Tears prick my eyes and I blink it away. “I’m not angry at my son. Never. I’m just upset that as a mother, this is the only way I can help him.
I’m scared, Jayla. You’ve seen Caesar. He’s heartless. Emotionless. What if he…” the words get stuck in my throat and I’m forced to pause for a moment and compose myself.
“I just got out of a traumatic marriage. I’m not sure if I can survive another one.”
Jayla pulls me against her chest and pats my back softly. “If you’re scared that Caesar would hurt you, don’t be. He’d never do something like that.”
I lean back and stare pointedly at her; “You seem so sure.”
She shrugs. “That’s because I am.
But as your best friend, I’m asking you to protect your heart. Caesar is heartless and emotionless just like you said; but the line between love and hate in our world is very thin. Too thin.
In all you do, just make sure you do not fall in love with that gorgeous–faced monster. Because if you do, that’s when we’ll have a real problem on our hands…”
***
CAESAR
The last few hours have been hectic as hell. I’ve cursed the egoistic part of me that wanted to organize a big wedding more than a thousand times in the last hour alone.
But I still can’t get Solomon’s words out of my mind;
“Caesar, my man, you’re not throwing a big wedding because you want it. You’re doing it because you want to please Amaya. Trust me. I’m sure you think she wants a princess wedding, but I still believe you should’ve asked for her opinion in the first place…”
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That was yesterday.
Of course I rebuked him and said his opinion was absolute rubbish. But that statement has been on repeat in my mind for the past few hours.
I hate crowds. I hate people. I hate parties. Why the hell am I throwing a big wedding, then? Why am I spending billions of dollars on a wedding just to make it the talk of the century?
Before I can find an answer to all my questions, Henry appears at the door;
“Sir, you have visitors.”
I open my mouth to tell him that I’m busy, but on a closer look, I notice the slight panic on his face;
“Henry? What’s going on? Who are these visitors?”
Before he can answer, someone pushes the door and it opens wider, revealing two women that I’d rather drink rat poison than see right now.
Elle and my mother.
“I’m so sorry, sir. The receptionists were not able to stop them either. And I…”
“Leave, Henry.” I mutter, annoyance simmering in my throat.
He bows and obliges, shutting the door behind him.
Mother and Elle both have mirror expressions of annoyance on their faces. I honestly do not have the time for this.
“Mother, I’d planned to come over and see you at the close of work today. Elle, I asked you never to come back here.” Mother stomps in my direction and slams an open palm on my table, probably upset that half of my attention is still on my MacBook.
“What is this news flying around that you’re getting married tomorrow, Caesar?”
I do not bother to look up. “That’s exactly what I wanted to talk to you about if you’d been patient enough to wait for me to come and see you instead of barging into my office like this.
Amaya and I are getting married tomorrow at The Marabella Fortess Estate by ten AM. It would reflect poorly on the image of our families if you’re not in attendance.”
“Look at me when I’m talking to you, son.” She hisses. “Am I no longer deserving of your respect?”
I take my precious time shutting off my MacBook and putting it away before looking into her sharp gray eyes. I bite my bottom lip, trying hard to hold myself from spilling the venomous words that currently burn in my chest.
“You have my attention, mother. What seems to be the problem
She scoffs, looking shocked. “You’re asking me that? This is unbelievable.” She narrows her eyes and points a crooked finger in my face, her slim diamond wedding band gleaming in the overhead lights;
“You set up a wedding with that… that divorcee, fixed a date and published it to the media without informing your own mother, now you’re asking what the problem is? What the hell is wrong with you Caesar?”
I don’t even blink. “I would advise that you remove your finger from my face immediately, mother.”
She snatches her hand back, looking surprised that she’d pointed it at me in the first place.
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“What did you call Ainaya? A divorcée?”
“Yes. You heard me.” She sneers. “A divorcee with two children who aren’t even yours. I mean, we’re not even sure if those children actually belong to Alistair or if he’s right about her being whore.”
Her words send a spark of anger up my spine. I shut my eyes for a brief second to control myself.
“You sound disgusted, mother.”
“Of course, I am!”
I nod. “You sound disgusted but here you are, frolicking around with the woman who made my daughter a vegetable. You sound disgusted but everyday, you go shopping and attend fancy events with my money and with the woman who nearly killed my daughter and caused her to be bedridden.
You sound disgusted but you still wear the ring of my father who died because of your selfishness. I don’t think you have any right to act disgusted at all, mother. You have no right.”
I deliver my statement so calmly and poignantly, my mother’s expression is a mixture of shock and hurt.
“How dare you blame me for your father’s death?” She cries. “Do you know how hard I…”
“Yes, yes.” I cut in, my voice low but blazing with anger. “Yes, I know how hard you tried to endure a marriage where you had an unlimited credit card and all the freedom in the world but still decided to cheat on your husband. Spare me the lecture, mother. I have an important meeting to attend.”
Mother sniffs but this time, I refuse to be guilt tripped by her tears. It’s high time I started holding people accountable for their actions around here.
Elle walks to her and wraps her arms around her shoulders, patting her back softly;
“Look, Caesar, you’ve made your mother cry. Are you happy now? Are you happy that you’ve hurt your own mother’s feelings because of that woman?”
For the next few seconds, I keep my dark, angry gaze firmly trained on her until she visibly starts to squirm. Good.
“You have no right to speak on this topic, Elle. We’re divorced. You’re an outsider.”
“She’s not an outsider!” Mother suddenly snaps; ” And I think it’s high time you stopped blaming her for Michaela’s situation. She was not in the right frame of mind when it happened. She was mentally unstable. Besides, she’s already shown that she’s remorseful.”
I scoff to hide the raw, venomous rage that currently burns through my veins;
“She was mentally unstable because I caught her cheating, you mean. I see why you like her so much. Both of you are actually birds of the same feather.
And don’t stand there and tell me that this sorry excuse of a mother is remorseful, because you and I both know that that’s a big lie.
Ask Elle the number of times she’s visited Michaela at the hospital ever since she returned to New York. Ask yourself that question, too, mother. How many times have you bothered to pay your sick granddaughter a visit?
The woman you call disgusting pays Michaela a visit every two days!” Their eyes widen in surprise and I nod. “Yes, you heard me. Amaya goes to visit Michaela with her favorite snacks every week, something that her biological mother can never be bothered to do.
So don’t you dare stand there and badmouth her. She’s a better person than both of you combined.
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And Elle, there’s no need to pretend like you loved Michaela because we both know you never loved her. It’s not her fault that she was born crippled. If you didn’t love her, I did, and that okay because my love alone was and is still enough for
her.”
Elle lowers her head remorsefully, but I’ve had enough of her fake emotions.
“Caesar, I…”
I lift a finger to stop her ranting.
“I was in the middle of something important before you both interrupted. Mother, kindly make sure you’re present at the wedding tomorrow. Elle, if you’re found within a foot of The Marabella Estate tomorrow, my guards will not hesitate to give you the embarrassment you deserve. You both can leave now.”
My mother opens her mouth to say something but just then, Henry returns;
“I’m sorry to interrupt, sir, but Miss Amaya’s best friend is here to see you. I tried to tell her you were busy but she insisted. I can ask her to leave if…”
“That’s okay, Henry. I’m actually done here. My mother and
