Sentenced to Marriage by MadlainQ novel Chapter 37

Weekend off 

I wasn‘t entirely sure how I ended up in Aren‘s black Porsche, heading to the private airport. I must have been slightly bewildered after picturing the two of us together, alone in his villa. I felt as if he wasn‘t planning to have any serious conversation with me at all, but was seducing me instead. But the worst part was that each time his seduction came to my mind, my body desperately shouted, “Let‘s let him!” 

I must have been truly desperate since I kept biting my lip while observing his hands on the wheel, gracefully and confidently maneuvering the car. Why did he have to be so sexy while driving?! 

“Do I turn you on?” he asked suddenly, making me blush. Hysteric laughter left my throat. “W–what?” 

He smirked. “You squeeze those thighs a bit too much. I can help you relax if you want me to... 

My face became blazing red in a second. “No, thank you,” I grunted, turning my head to stare the rest of the way through the side window. We weren‘t even in the air, and I had already managed to embarrass myself in front of him. Every part of Aren‘s idea for that weekend was making me unimaginably nervous. It all started when he told me that we were going straight to the airport, and when I told him that I needed to pack some clothes, I heard that it had all been taken care of. I hated losing control of the details, especially since I was going for a weekend to a place where the wealthiest 1% of the population liked to rest... 

When we got to the airport, Aren led me to a helicopter–slash–flying–hotel–suite with cream leather bench–style seats, folding coffee tables, retractable TV screens, and, of course, a minibar. Aren seated me next to himself, then pulled out a bottle of champagne and two glasses. 

“It looks like you‘re enjoying this weekend a bit too much,” I commented, more and more convinced that it had nothing to do with him needing privacy to reveal his super–plan. 

He chuckled as he popped the champagne‘s cork. “It‘s my first day off this year. I think that champagne fits the occasion.” 

“Oh...” I lowered my gaze, embarrassed by my egocentric thoughts. Suddenly, I felt sorry for him. He had everything money could buy and absolutely zero time to enjoy it. “When was the last time you‘ve been in your Hamptons villa?” I glanced at him curiously. He smiled wryly. “Never.” 

“What?!” I stared at him in disbelief. 

He shrugged. “I bought it last year at auction since it looked like a good investment. I hired people to renew it and redecorate it, but I‘ve never been there.” 

Weekend oft 

“S–50… not only did you decide to take two days off and spend it with me, but you chose to go to your villa that you haven‘t even seen yet?!” I laughed nervously. 

“Correction,” he said, smirking. “I‘m taking a weekend off because I needed a break, and I‘ve seen the villa in pictures and during a video call when I had to accept the interior concept.” “Even so, you needed to rest, and you decided to take your fake fiancée with you?” I argued. He smiled alluringly and handed me a glass of golden sparkling liquid. “I enjoy beautiful views, and I cannot wait to see you in a nice bikini.” 

I raised my eyebrows at him and snorted. “For your information, I don‘t have a bikini.” 1 

He leaned over me. “You do now. I told you that everything had been taken care of.” 

I gasped. It was time to admit my endless naivety. Aren was clearly planning to enjoy every second of that weekend away from New York City, and something was telling me that I was about to become his main source of entertainment... 

“Wait.” I froze at the sudden realization. “Weren‘t we supposed to visit your family‘s mansion this Sunday?” 

“For not predicting the fact that you might not be ready to face your ex. Truthfully, after hearing about your relationship from Miranda... I‘m not certain I could face that fucker either. “He shifted his gaze to the window, but I could see the fury boiling within him even without looking into his eyes. “It‘ll take a lot not to kill him.” 

I gulped. I truly hoped that it was a figure of speech and not actual intent, but the dark hint in Aren‘s voice warned not to test him. Nonetheless, I couldn‘t help but inwardly smile at the fact that Aren was angry for me... Finally, we flew off and landed at the Hamptons airport less than an hour later. Once we‘d arrived, Marcus was already there to take us to Southampton‘s “Billionaire Lane,” where Aren‘s villa was. It was a huge modern colonial–style villa with a beachfront and a private lane leading to the ocean. It was a careful mix of majestic architecture with contemporary simplicity that turned this castle–like mansion into a bright and cozy billionaire‘s second home. 

Marcus brought the two suitcases he had in the trunk inside the mansion, and a minute later, 

Weekend olla 

he was gone. I stood on the luxurious porch and stared at the opened door, hesitating whether or not to go inside. “After you,” Aren urged me with a gesture. 

I smiled nervously before stepping through the threshold and entering the grand, spacious hall with ebony flooring and bright furnishings. The room, like the entire two–story building, was beautifully lightened by the sun rays coming through the floor–to–ceiling windows. The hall opened to a large living room elegantly decorated with cream and blue colors.