SEDUCING THE BILLIONAIRE

Chapter Three; Hard Launch

Saturday morning, the first thing I did upon waking up was check my phone for messages, when I saw one from Duke my heart leaped for joy.

"Chill Audrey, this is just a business contract." I reminded myself but even then, I was still excited because who wouldn't be excited about a deal which would make you a millionaire in five years? I had been working for almost ten years now and I wasn't even close to becoming a millionaire in Kwacha but just five years down the line I would be a millionaire in freaking dollars!!

I checked the message and it simply read:

"Check your email."

I opened my emails on my laptop and went direct to his, just like promised, he had sent the detailed contract, and I spent my morning going through it line by line with a cup of coffee by my side. Whenever I needed clarification on something I would call, and he would explain. For example, the contract said we would be sleeping in separate bedrooms so I called to ask if the house workers wouldn't get suspicious and spread the rumors, he made his aunt sound like the Disney evil villain so if she found out that the marriage was fake, she would bring it before a judge and ruin everything.

"Don't worry," he told me "The bedroom is joined to mine using a door in-between. You'll be using my door but sleeping in the other room."

Huh, I guess he had thought of everything. I finished reading through around 10AM, signed digitally and sent it back to him.

That very Saturday, he wanted us to meet and do some shopping as he claimed my dress sense was awful and his family wouldn't believe that I was really his girl, ouch, but understandable, rich families had different standards and expectations from us middle class people. After lunch I bathed and tried to put in some extra effort in my outfit, normally I was a jeans and t-shirt kinda girl but that Saturday I brought out a dress and heels.

Duke sent a driver to come and pick me up from home then drop me off at the mall where he was waiting.

I had been expecting him to be less secretive and mysterious but nope, he was wearing beige cotton pants, a black long-sleeved button-down shirt, a black mask and sunglasses. Why was he still wearing a mask? I could barely see his face. Covid restrictions had been over for a while now.

He took me in a designer brands boutique, and it was practically empty.

"Are you sure they're open?" I asked as I looked around but quickly saw a worker approach us.

"Mr. Kalomo, welcome." the guy smiled and shook his hand "peruse around and our sales reps will be here to help."

"Thank you, Dawson, we'll only need an hour." He told him.

Some sales reps were brought forward, and they led us first to the dresses section.

"Did you make them close the store?" I leaned in and asked in a whisper.

"I wanted this done quick, with no other people in our way," he casually explained it off. Wow, just wow, was this what the VIP treatment felt like? It was intriguing but a part of me felt a bit guilty, like I was a fraud.

The sales reps were really helpful, one of them actually even offered advice as to which colors went well with my skin tone and which outfits would be better with my body shape. I bought... Well Duke bought almost everything starting from skirts, dresses, trousers, sexy nightgowns and I snuck in some lingerie, just in case... He also paid for all types of shoes, handbags, perfumes... I felt like we were buying from scratch, re-inventing myself but not really changing myself. I was grateful for the sales rep who was advising about my skin tone and body shape.

After the shopping I even changed in a different outfit then he asked the store manager if he could take a picture of us.

He wanted to get things done quickly so that by the time his aunt actually filed for custody, we would already be married.

After being away from social media for almost a year, Duke posted that picture of us that early evening as we were leaving the mall and by the time, I was getting dropped off at home I had received sixty friend requests on Facebook, 500 new followers on Twitter and 300 follow requests on Instagram because my account was private.

"Oh my gosh he made it public!!" Dianne screamed as she stormed into my room, I had just been dropped off and my shopping bags were all over the floor and on the bed. She looked around in awe "Wow, he bought all this?" she started checking what I had bought.

"Yeah, things are public now, so I have to actually look like a billionaire's fiancé," I said but Dianne wasn't even listening to me, she was now focused on my shopping.

"Now I wish we were the same size." She pouted as she grabbed a jacket, and she tried it on, but it was too small because her chest was bigger than mine. Among my sisters I was the one with the smallest breasts, which was now working in my favor because they couldn't fit in my clothes.

.

My family was so excited about Duke going public with our relationship and they wanted to know when they could officially meet him. When I relayed the query to him, he said the next day, which was a Sunday, we would be having lunch with his aunt to convince her that the relationship was real and serious then after that we could meet my family and get married.

"Dress like you belong there and don't let her intimidate you. She'll probably try to say you won't be a good fit because of our different backgrounds and lifestyle but don't let her bully you," he advised.

The following morning, I went to church with my family, and you could see the joy on my mother's face, the way she was dancing in church, and she even gave an offering of Thanksgiving. I had no idea that she had been anxiously waiting for me to find a man ready to marry me. It made me feel a little sad, bad and guilty because it was a fake marriage which would end in five years.

After the church service I rushed back home to take another quick shower then picked out three outfits which I sent to Duke.

"Which one screams 'Duke's fiancé? I asked.

Hopefully I would be able to handle the aunt and convince her that it was a real relationship.