Chapter 4

Chapter 004

Hours passed while I stood in front of the tiny closet, glancing at the few clothes I had. It didn't seem right.

I was unfamiliar with selecting outfits for a date. What exactly should I wear? Something elegant? Something informal? Something like, "I don't care, but I care?"

Fatigue dragged me onto the bed before I could make up my mind.

Knock, knock, knock.

I was startled awake by the sound. Still feeling sleepy, I sat up and hardly noticed the constant tapping on the door. Who in the world might that be?

When I walked over and opened it, I was greeted by a swarm of strange faces. Ladies. There were numerous women present.

"Uh…" I scowled. "I believe you're in the wrong room."

I got a knowing smile from the tallest of the group, a sleek woman with a lot of features. "Lena, right?"

I blinked. "Yeah… how do you know my name?"

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. I understand that this must come as a surprise. Our hometown is Casper Vermeer. He sent us here to prepare you for tonight.

I was filled with nausea. Did he send a team to get me ready? Was this a royal ceremony?

"Oh. "Well," I muttered.

"Amazing! Get in the shower now. We have a lot to do, and time is running out." She twirled me around and pushed me gently in the direction of the restroom. Like a little army, the rest of the group trailed in after her.

Before I could even react, an hours-long metamorphosis swept me away.

There were so many hands present. So much curling, brushing, tugging, and—was I being poked?

I felt as though I had left someone else's life by the time they were finished.

I was in awe of the dress alone. A bodycon made of red sequins that hung just below my knees and covered every inch of me. It caught every move I made as it shimmered in the light.

Half-expecting it to fit, I slipped it on, and it molded to me as if it had been made specifically for this occasion.

The shoes followed. A pair of glistening Louboutins that appeared much too costly for my feet.

I glanced at myself in the mirror, half-expecting to feel like a stranger. However, no. My face is framed by curls, my features are accentuated rather than overshadowed by makeup, my nails are polished, and my earrings are exquisite.

This girl was someone I knew. I simply wasn't used to seeing her like this.

The last moment came when there was a knock on the door.

I was led to the exit with a clutch bag crammed into my hands.

Before I could even catch my breath, the door opened and I saw him.

Standing erect in a black tux, Casper Vermeer's brilliant grey eyes met mine.

He paused. Something unreadable flickered across his face, and he quickly covered it up.

"Well. Nice. After giving a nod of approval, he turned to face the head stylist. "Well done, Marieke."

She smiled and said, "Thank you, sir," before assembling her team and heading out.

I clenched my jaw. That was it? Pleasant? After all that work?

Still assessing me, Casper turned back to face me.

"Shall we?" He held out his hand.

After a moment of staring, I finally put mine in his. He led me out with a steady, firm grip.

It was quiet on the way to the car. We didn't say anything, and I wasn't going to be the one to speak.

But my mouth almost fell open when we got to the car.

A sleek Rolls-Royce Phantom in black.

I knew this man was wealthy. It was quite another to see it this way, to feel the luxury radiating from every part of this vehicle.

As I settled into the soft leather seats, I tried to take it all in.

In contrast, Casper hardly acknowledged me. As if I weren't there, he flipped open his laptop while seated at the far end of the backseat.

The quiet continued.

As I waited for him to speak, I tapped my fingers against my lap and looked at him every few minutes.

Nothing.

The true nightmare started as soon as we arrived at the eatery.

Flashing lights burst from every direction as soon as we stepped outside.

Paparazzi, cameras. Reporters. There is a throng of people with their cameras pointed directly at us.

My chest constricted. I was having trouble breathing.

Casper's hand touched mine, his thumb moving slowly and soothingly over my skin.

He was aware. He saw.

His security team showed up silently, turned off the cameras, and escorted us inside without incident.

Still trembling, I let out a breath. "How are you so well-known?"

He adjusted his cufflinks and shrugged. "It's a requirement of the job."

I didn't respond, but I ignored it.

Casper stopped just as the escort was about to take us to the VIP area.

He pointed to a table in the center of the eatery and said, "We'll sit here," to the host.

At first, I thought it was an attempt to ground me.

I was mistaken.

People were watching us as soon as we sat down. The air was filled with whispers. People looked at each other.

I shifted uneasily.

But Casper was unconcerned. He ordered our meals and wine for us both.

Once more, there was silence between us.

Then, suddenly—

"Did I mention that you look fantastic tonight?"

Unexpectedly, I blinked.

Did he want to compliment me now?

Unsure of how to react, I said, "Uh… thanks."

His lips barely curving into what was almost a smile, he nodded.

"You're welcome, sweetheart."

I tensed up. Sweetheart?

His hand reached for my face before I could question it.

I reflexively jerked back, but he grabbed my chin and held it tenderly.

He lowered his voice to a whisper. We're out in the open. Don't you recall the contract?

I nodded and swallowed hard.

"Then behave appropriately." His eyes did not meet his smile.

I made myself follow suit.

Then he got to his feet in the next second.

And got down on one knee.

The restaurant was filled with gasps. The cameras sprang up.

I went cold.

In his hand gleamed a ring.

My heart was racing.

No.

This was not taking place.

I could hear the room trembling with excitement and whispers.

My eyes filled with tears—not from happiness, but from something else entirely.

"Lena van Dijk," he said in a firm, authoritative voice, "will you marry me?"

My entire being cried out, "No."

However, I was aware of the expectations.

I nodded and smiled stiffly.

"Yes," I said, hardly letting the word escape my lips.

Around us, cheers broke out. Casper put the ring on my finger. I permitted him.

He confronted the reporters as soon as we were outside.

He declared, "This is my bride-to-be." "In a month, we will tie the knot."

A month?

I bit the inside of my cheek, holding in my reaction.

"Right, my love?" He turned to me, pressing a soft kiss on my forehead.

I nodded, the fake smile still plastered on my face.

"Right," I echoed.

My patience gave out the moment we got back in the car.

"Why didn't you inform me that this whole evening was for the media?"

Casper remained unfazed.

"You must have read the contract." He spoke in a cold tone. "I advise you to go back and do so if you didn't. I also owe you no explanations, Lena.

My hands curled into fists.

I turned away, staring out the window.

This was real now.

My life was about to change, and there was no way out.