章節 7: Why him?
Emily sat behind the counter of the bookstore, her mind a jumbled mess of thoughts. Bills, Anna's salary, and the looming rent payment weighed heavily on her. She had tried every possible way to make ends meet, but it seemed the universe had other plans—plans that involved Ethan Grey, the insufferable CEO who had somehow bulldozed his way into her life.
"I hate this," she muttered to herself, flipping through the store's ledger. "I hate him."
"Talking to yourself again?" Anna's voice came from the back, cheerful as always. She walked out carrying a tray of coffee and set it down on the counter.
"Don't start," Emily said, rubbing her temples.
Anna raised an eyebrow. "What's wrong now? Is it Ethan again?"
Emily sighed. "Who else? He thinks the world revolves around him, and I'm just supposed to go along with whatever he says."
"Well," Anna said, taking a sip of her coffee, "he is a CEO. They have this god complex, right?"
Before Emily could respond, her phone buzzed on the counter. She glanced at the screen and groaned when she saw Ethan's name. She hesitated for a moment before answering.
"Hello?" she said, her tone laced with irritation.
"Hey, it's Ethan. I'm coming to pick you up around 5 PM this evening, okay?"
"Wait, wha—"
The line went dead.
Emily stared at her phone in disbelief. "He just hung up on me!"
Anna, clearly amused, leaned against the counter. "What did he say?"
"He said he's coming to pick me up at 5 PM! Didn't ask, didn't wait for me to agree—just assumed I'd say yes!"
Anna laughed. "Classic Ethan. You've got to admire his confidence."
"I don't admire anything about him," Emily snapped.
---
By 5 PM, Emily was still fuming. She hadn't even bothered to change out of her casual jeans and sweater. If Ethan wanted to drag her somewhere, he could deal with her looking like this.
The bookstore door swung open, and there he was. Ethan Grey, in all his tailored-suit glory, looking like he owned the world.
"You're late," he said casually, as if she had been the one keeping him waiting.
"You didn't even ask if I wanted to go," Emily retorted, crossing her arms.
Ethan smirked. "Because I already knew the answer."
Before she could protest further, Ethan grabbed her hand and led her outside.
"Hey! What do you think you're doing?" Emily tried to pull away, but his grip was firm.
"Relax, Emily," he said, opening the door of his sleek black car. "You'll thank me later."
"I highly doubt that," she muttered, reluctantly getting into the car.
---
The drive was quiet, except for the occasional sound of Ethan humming along to the classical music playing on the radio. Emily stared out the window, trying to figure out where they were going.
When the car finally stopped, her jaw dropped.
They were at a grand manor, the kind you'd see in movies or on the covers of luxury magazines. The sprawling estate was surrounded by perfectly manicured gardens, and the mansion itself looked like something out of a fairy tale.
"What is this place?" she asked as Ethan opened her door.
"It's my family home," he said simply.
Emily hesitated. "Why are we here?"
"You'll see," he said, taking her hand again and leading her inside.
The interior of the manor was even more breathtaking than the exterior. Crystal chandeliers, marble floors, and ornate furniture filled the space. But Emily barely had time to take it all in before she was whisked into another room.
There, a group of maids was waiting, each one holding a measuring tape or a clipboard.
"What's going on?" Emily asked, her voice rising in panic.
Ethan's expression was calm, almost smug. "They're here to take your measurements."
"My measurements? For what?"
"For your wedding dress," he said matter-of-factly.
Emily froze. "Wedding dress? Ethan, what are you talking about?"
"The wedding is tomorrow," he said, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.
Her eyes widened. "Tomorrow? Are you insane?"
"Some might say so," he said with a small smile. "But I prefer to think of myself as efficient."
Emily's mind raced. How had this happened? How had she gone from running a bookstore to being measured for a wedding dress in less than a day?
"Ethan, you can't just—"
"I can," he interrupted, his voice firm. "And I have. This is happening, Emily."
One of the maids stepped forward and gently guided Emily to a platform in the center of the room. Before she knew it, they were taking her measurements, discussing fabrics and designs as if she weren't even there.
Ethan stood off to the side, watching the scene unfold with a satisfied expression.
"This is insane," Emily muttered to herself.
"You'll look beautiful," Ethan said, his voice soft for once.
Emily glared at him. "This isn't romantic, Ethan. This is crazy!"
He stepped closer, his gaze locking onto hers. "Crazy or not, I don't care. You're mine, Emily. And tomorrow, the whole world will know it."
Emily's heart pounded in her chest. She hated how his words made her feel, how they stirred something deep inside her.
"This isn't how I imagined my life," she whispered, more to herself than to him.
"Life rarely goes as planned," Ethan said. "But sometimes, it turns out even better than you expected."
Emily didn't respond. She couldn't. All she could do was stand there, surrounded by maids and fabric swatches, and wonder how her life had come to this.
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