THE CEO'S FAKE WIFE

In a huff, Beatrice Miller stuffed her clothes into the trunk. She really didn't understand her father who had gone too far. Seriously! How could she who was only 28 years old, be married to an old famous banker who has a lot of warts on his face!

Debt is debt, but why should she be sacrificed?

If she wanted to stop that stupid matchmaking she must have at least 20 million dollars to pay his father's debt to the old fart.

"Bea, you don't have any intention of running away, do you?" asked Henry Miller, Beatrice's father with a pitiful face.

Beatrice stopped her hands which were busy putting her clothes into the trunk, she looked up at her father with unfathomable emotion.

"Dad, I've been planning this solo trip since six months ago! What did you say? Runaway? Well, I'm not a person who likes to run away from my responsibilities, but that seems like a great idea though!" said her curtly.

Henry Miller took a deep breath, actually, deep down inside his heart, he couldn't bear to match his only daughter with the old fart Gary Martin. But he was threatened with imprisonment, so he couldn't help but do that annoying thing to his daughter.

"I'm sorry Bea, If there was another way, I wouldn't force you to do this. Just this once Bea, I'm asking for your help..."

If only Beatrice's mother was there at that time, none of that things would have happened to her. But unfortunately, Joanne Miller had passed away five years ago and her departure made her life a mess in an instant.

"So, what does that old fart want? Have sex with me? Or does he want a real marriage?" Beatrice said in a trembling voice, she felt a tightness in her chest when she said that.

Henry Miller looked down,

"I don't sure about that Bea, we'll talk to Gary after you get back from Europe, okay?" he answered without daring to look at Beatrice who was almost in tears.

“Well, sure! I hope you are happy with what you did, dad!”

“Oh Bea, please...”

That's how Beatrice Miller started her morning before leaving for Nashville, Tennesse International Airport. No matter how hard her father prevented her from leaving, she continued on her way.

She had planned this solo traveling since six months ago. She was struggling to save her salary as an online writer whose numbers sometimes go up and sometimes down.

Three months earlier, she had applied for a Schengen Visa, and that day she was more than ready to travel around Europe. Secretly in her heart, she intended not to go back to America. Well, she knew it was impossible, but at least she could do something that pleased herself before she handed her body over to the old fart Gary Martin who his age was twice hers.

She had been sleeping since the plane was transiting at Houston until it has arrived at Amsterdam Schiphol Airport. She woke up when the plane's lights were turned on. Suddenly she felt so excited that she couldn't stop herself from smiling, she pulled her black suitcase to a Coffee Shop to buy hot coffee because the weather turned out to be very cold up to two degrees Celsius, well not surprising because it was December.

She tucked her long john and coat in close while waiting for her hot coffee to be done. In the corner of the sofa not far from her, she saw a young man who caught her attention.

"He's handsome, but he seems arrogant though," she muttered to herself as she continued to assess the appearance of the young man who seemed to be very wealthy.

As if moved by nature, the young man looked back at her, with lightning speed she immediately turned her gaze towards the barista who was making the coffee for her. But suddenly the man walked to her, making her feel awkward for a moment. Was she too beautiful that the man couldn't help but greet her?

She pretended not to care, her eyes focused on the coffee machine. And seconds later,

"American?" asked the man in his dull, flat voice.

'He knows I'm American? I didn't know that I was that famous?'

Beatrice kept guessing in her head without answering the man who was standing tall in front of her.

As if he understood what was in her head, the man pointed at her suitcase, there was a tag with the words BNA written on it.

"Nashville, huh?" he said with a sly smile.

Beatrice immediately cleared her throat in embarrassment, she took her coffee order at the barista and stood facing the annoying man.

"Well, yes I'm from Nashville? Why? Do you have any problem with that?" she asked with an annoyed face.

"I want to ask you a few things, can you sit on that couch for a while?" the man asked, he was trying to be polite but somehow still sounding like he was ordering.

Beatrice frowned,

"How do I know that you're not having a bad intention?" she became alert, she gripped her hot coffee tightly.

"One, we are in a crowded and safe place. Two, you can scream at any time if I do something inappropriate. Three, I don't see anything precious or worthy that I can take from you," said the man casually, very contrary to Beatrice's who felt so irritated and humiliated. But somehow she kept dragging her suitcase to the sofa where the man was sitting before, then she threw her body in there. Not long after that, the man who was wearing beige chinos and a long Burberry Kensington coat sat in front of her.

"Okay, I don't have much time! What do you want?" she asked, looking at the man appraisingly. 'Not bad at all, Rolex! He looks like a rich man!' shrieked Beatrice soundlessly.

"So, I came here without a plan, I haven't had time to book a hotel and it turns out that all the hotels are full."

The man paused for a moment.

Before he could continue, Beatrice had interrupted, "So? You want me to sell my hotel to you, is that what are you trying to say?"

The man nodded promptly,

"Yes, I'll pay for the hotel you've booked at ten times the actual price!" said the man while taking coffee from the table and sipping it slowly, studying the reaction of the woman in front of him.

WHAT? TEN TIMES?

Beatrice was tempted, the amount was pretty good for her extra pocket money! But what about her? Where should she go?

"No Thanks, it's winter, I will definitely die on the streets. Okay then, good luck! I have a train to catch!" she stood ready to pull her suitcase.

"Thirty times!" shouted the man impatiently.

Beatrice stopped on her tracks, wow that's a pretty good one! One thought crossed her mind. She looked at the man, then said. "Fifty times and we share a room."

The man glared in disbelief as if he was being tarnished by his pride. "Sharing room? No! Never!" he said, snorted arrogantly.

Beatrice shrugged as if she didn't care, then she turned around and was ready to leave. She counted backward in her mind, for some reason she was so sure she could get extra money for her traveling expenses from that stranger.

And she was right!

"Okay! Okay! I'm in!" shouted the man at last.

So that night, two people who did not know each other walked side by side in the Plaza Schiphol area, arguing between taking a taxi or taking a train.

"I want to try taking the metro! If you want to take a taxi, it's up to you, I'm not forcing you to come with me either!" Beatrice said as she walked down the escalator that led to Schiphol Railway Station.

Reluctant to argue, the man complied, following behind her. While waiting for the metro to come, she turned her head to look at the man with a sharp and fierce face.

"I need to see your ID! Well, just in case, you know, you could be a psychopath or bad guy or crazy pervert, or whatever it is," she bubbled, starting to get a little inconsequential.

The man's face turned red, angrily he took out his passport and gave it to her.

'Luke Carter, 31 years old

She cleared her throat a little, took a photo of Luke's passport using her cellphone, and returned it back to him.