Chapter 5 Chapter 5:

Malakai:

Twenty years ago,

Venice, Italy.

Malakai lived in a tiny house in Venice with his parents till he was twelve years old, they didn't have much but at least, they were happy. 

His mother worked as a waitress in the restaurant down a few blocks so she brought leftovers whenever she came home, it was delicious and Malakai never complained, if anything, he was usually very excited when his mother walked through the doors, with the to-go bag containing the leftovers.

His father, on the other hand, worked as a mechanic, owning his own shop. Malakai was only allowed to visit during the weekends, he helped his dad repair worn out cars. Their hands would be greasy with oil, but father and son spent a lot of time together. For Malakai, it was more than enough. He didn't have any siblings, and whenever he asked his parents, his father would look at his mother and they would wink at each other and tell him. “We’re working on it, kiddo.”

But oh, his parents were so in love. They would dance in the kitchen, holding hands, their eyes sparking with a lifetime promise. His father would say words of love in Italian to his mother. Their love story was easy, mama fell in love with an Italian back home, she was so in love with him, she moved to Italy.

Malakai often wondered how easy it was to love someone like that. They were always together, his parents. Goodness, they were so happy even though they didn't have much.

It was weird that Malakai didn't often receive words from his grand-parents or any relatives. At school, other students told happy tales about visiting their relatives for the summer, and how Thanksgiving was always full of family. For as long as he could remember, it had been only the three of them.

Though Malakai often asked about his grandparents, and he knew the answer vaguely, his father's parents were dead, and his mother's parents….well, they didn't like to talk about them.

One day, he couldn't sleep so he rolled out of bed and walked into the living room. Surprisingly, his mother was awake, seated on the couch and flipped through a big book.

“Mama?” He asked, rather too innocently. His mother whipped her head to catch her son under her light, staring wide at her.

She laughed, “nothing much, I couldn't sleep, so I decided to go through some family pictures. Do you want to come see?”

The word ‘family’ excited him greatly. His mother never talked much about her family but now she was flipping through a picture book of them! Malakai sure couldn't miss it. He sat on the couch and faced his mother with wide eyes. “Alright, let's see the pictures.”

“Calm your horses,” she laughed, pulling him closer. “Well….I actually came from old money.”

“Old money?” Kai furrowed his brows in confusion. “What does that mean?”

“It means that my family has been rich for a very long time, and I was rich too, once upon a time, but then I met your father, and my family….well, they couldn't accept him because he didn't have money, so they asked me to choose.” Her eyes were teary and Malakai didn't understand it much then, but it made so much perfect sense now. “I was so in love with your father, I packed my things and came to Italy with him. We got married here and gave birth to you. That was the best decision of my life.”

Her mother pulled him close, and he rested his head on her shoulder. She was so warm that night.

“I don't think families should abandon themselves like that,” Malakai added, as his mother pulled up the blanket.

“Yeah, well…sometimes, families can be selfish too.”

Everything overlaps into one, the sickness….the car crash….the screeching of yells. Darkness starts to surround him…and since then—

–

Malakai:

I jolt out of bed choking, sweat gathering on the base of my forehead. I look at the alarm beeping that it's seven in the morning. I haven't had those dreams in two weeks, and now they are back. I can hear the sound of my mother's scream, glass shattering, everything overlapping into one. It's clear to me as day.

My chest suddenly tightens and it's hard to breathe.

“Shit…” The word comes out strained, and I am choking on air. It's happening again, of course it is. I stagger out of bed too fast, the room coming in a tinted, blurry view. I have to locate my pills. Fast. 

My hand grasps the edge of the nightstand, struggling to breathe.

Not now.

I don't have time for this.

I don't have time to be weak.

I grab the bottle of pills and twist the cap greedily, my pulse hammering too fast. I shove them into my mouth and swallow. The knot in my chest starts to untighten gently, giving me a little space to breathe.

I start to catch all the breaths I have missed– one, two, inhale…exhale…and slowly, my breathing returns back to normal. I sit on the edge of the bed, ragged and exhausted. It's always these constant nightmares.

I struggle to push myself out of the bed and into the shower, letting the warm water graze my skin. My eyes are hazy as I come out of the bathroom, I feel my demons clinging to me, whispering on both shoulders. It's one thing to have grown up naive, thinking the world is full of magic and happy ever after, and it's one thing to get those dreams crushed.

Being strong is something I choose to do every single day. Showing weakness is something I plan to never do. Damn it, now I need a cup of coffee to start my day.

I walk out of my bedroom and into the large living room, there's a strange aroma coming from the kitchen which makes me pause. I never let the staff make breakfast because I don't do breakfast. Did they forget? Carefully, I pad to the kitchen and I am taken aback when I see a figure facing my back, whistling as she flips the pan.

“What are you doing here?” My voice is hard, making her turn back to stare at me. Scarlett is standing right in front of me with a parted lips. From the woollen sweater, I can almost see the structure of her collarbone down to the—

“Oh, hey. Good morning,” her voice doesn't sound cheerful either. “I don't know what you like to have for breakfast, so instead, I am making pancakes. I hope you like it.”

Different thoughts are wheezing through my mind. How did she even manage to let herself in? I thought we called off the whole deal yesterday, why is she here?

“I don't eat breakfast.” I reply coldly, going to sit in the dining chair. 

“Look.” She drops the pan on the stove, and comes to join me. “I don't want to do this either. Being your fake fiancée, I mean….but I really need this money, and it will just go a long way,” her blue eyes are glinting and under the lights, I can see how exhausted she looks. For a minute, I wonder what she's shouldering through but the thought quickly disappears as it comes.

Can I even do this? Dragging her into my world? Sure, she's bold and confident but people have their breaking point. Can she withstand my cruelty? She can barely survive a day in my life. 

There is something about this woman that's odd, I have met a lot of women but this Scarlett is different, I can feel it.

I look into her desperate blue eyes that's also daring me. The only reason I dragged her to the gala hosted by the West was to spite them, and now that it worked out perfectly, do I still need her? She could also be a distraction for them while I secretly undergo my plan.

“How did you let yourself in?” I ask, and she chuckles, like I just asked her an easy question.

“The staff, they let me in.” She rolls her head, “anymore questions?”

This woman is daring me.

“If we are going to make this work, then we would have to set some rules, blue.” I breathe out.

“Thank you,” her lips curl into a smile. “How do we get started?”

“For one, I don't need you coming close to the kitchen. That's why I have the staff for that.” I pull out my phone and type in the rules. “You are going to stay here, in my house, with me. Because it's going to make it more believable, do you understand me?”

“Yes,” she says breathlessly. “We do need to set some rules…so we can keep to it.”

“Don't act like it's such a big deal. We are going to have separate bedrooms, and nothing is going to happen.” I watch the way her cheeks tint with color.

“Of course,” she waves at me, fanning her face. “I totally knew that, like why would something even happen? It's just pretend.”

I ignore her and look at my phone. “You are expected to be home every night by 10pm, if you break the rule, the contract ends immediately.”

“Well that's not fair. Are you placing me on a curfew or something? We have to make it fair…you have to be home every night by 10pm too.”

I will have to say that she's daring and perhaps feisty. She shifts her chair closer, inching towards me to peer at my phone. I catch a whiff of her perfume, like vanilla and strawberry…it's weird because I find myself trying to catch another whiff.

“And what happens if I break it, huh?” I ask her and her eyes glint.

“You would have to add five thousand dollars to our agreed payment.” There's something about her boldness that's inviting and yet, unapproachable.

“Deal.” I say quietly.

“Let's get one thing straight though, if I am going to act as your fake fiancée in public, then I won't be some obedient prop you drag around.”

I lean back in my chair, studying her. Fesity, yes. Confident to the point of recklessness. She seems like the kind of woman who would walk straight into a fire just to prove it can't burn her.

“In public, you are mine. You do exactly as I say, if I tell you to smile, you smile. If I tell you to leave, you leave.” I inform her.

“And if I don't?” She fires back.

“Then you are putting yourself in danger, my world isn't simple, and if you want to be in it, then you have to do as I say.”

“Fine.” She says, “but I have one rule. The moment we are out of the public eye. You don't control me, you don't get to order me around. This–” she gestures towards us. “Is nothing but a deal, and I hope it remains that way.”

My gaze flicks from her hand briefly back to her face. “You think so?” I stand up from the chair. She doesn't shake when I lean in close, to the point that I am able to feel the heat from her skin.

“I know so.” She looks up at me, her eyes burning with determination. “I don't want anything to do with your world.”

“Good, then if you see something that you aren't meant to see. What are you going to do?” I ask, staring deep into her eyes.

“I will walk away,” she replies, like it's that simple.

“Good.” I straighten, “then we have got ourselves a deal. I will have my lawyer send the contract link to your email. That's okay with you?”

“Erm…” she bites her lower lips, “Yes, that's okay.” She stands up from the chair. “I have to leave for work soon.”

“I don't need to know about your personal business. It's none of my concern.” My voice comes out a little sharper than intended, and she seems taken aback by my words, but she quickly masks it with a stiff nod.

“Yeah, I understand that.” Before I can open my heart, she turns and walks out of the kitchen, leaving me standing there, drowning in my thoughts.