Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
Seb
I have my driver take me to Harry Winston after the diner. It’s the only fitting choice for a woman like Elle.
Sure, I could go to one of my father’s many shops and take my pick of his vast array of diamonds on offer, but I don’t want to. I don’t want Elle thinking this is fake or that I’m cheating by giving her a family piece.
Instead, I take my time browsing the high-end store’s extensive collection, the staff bending over backwards to cater to my every whim, with a glass of chilled champagne in hand. Maybe they know who I am, maybe they don’t, but they know I’m here to spend some serious money, and they’re more than happy to accommodate my every need to help with that.
Sipping it just reminds me of the picture Elle sent me this morning. It’s the first time I’ve seen her looking anything less than perfectly put together since we were kids. She doesn’t know it, but I saved the image as her contact picture so it’ll come up on my screen if she calls me. It makes me smile as I continue to browse the ostentatious rings.
Finally, I settle on a stunning diamond engagement ring, knowing it has to be perfect, as it would not only represent the beginning of my fake marriage, but also symbolise the trust and commitment I have for Elle. I want to make sure that Elle will never be at a disadvantage if this scam goes awry, but I can’t help but worry that it’s not good enough.
Despite knowing her for her entire life, I don’t know her know her, so I have no idea if this ring is the one she’ll like. They say diamonds are a girl’s best friend, but is the three carat emerald-cut diamond with tapered baguette side stones the right best friend for Elle?
Blowing out a breath, I swipe my black First Royale credit card and have the item packaged up. While the staff are tripping over themselves, matching earrings catch my eye and I motion for those to be added to my order too. Then I second guess the studs, as a necklace…a cluster diamond collar…steals my attention.
It’s too much. But my breath catches at the thought of securing around Elle’s dainty little neck. More of a symbol of ownership than any mere ring.
It’s too soon for that, I tell myself, before thinking fuck it and adding that to my order too.
Then just for good measure, because I can, I pick out a simple pink sapphire and diamond forget-me-not pendant. It’s silly, but it reminds me of the flowers we used to draw as kids, and pink used to be Elle’s favourite colour until her brother teased her mercilessly about it and she switched to blue. She’ll probably turn her nose up at it, but it’s the first thing I’ve ever selected thinking about something other than its status symbol. This necklace reminds me of the Elle I used to know, and it puts a smile on my face.
I pay again, grab my bags and exit the store, glad that I was able to get an appointment on such short notice, and head back to the waiting car. I guess the Sterling-Knight family name still carries some hefty weight. That, and the threat of buying out the competition.
In the back of the car, my phone rings and I grimace when I see my father’s name on the screen.
“Hello, Father,” I say, answering the call and bringing the phone up to my ear.
“Don’t hello father me!” He yells down the line, clearly seething. “What the fuck have you managed to spend over three million pounds on in under twenty four hours, son?”
I grimace.
“Father,” I say, trying to keep my tone calm, “I didn’t spend that much in the grand scheme of things. I bought an engagement ring and a few other items, but I’m sure you’ll understand that these things can’t be cheap given the circumstances.”
“Circumstances? What circumstances?” He growls, his anger still apparent. “I don’t want to hear any more excuses. Have you actually found a woman to give an engagement ring to or are you planning on pawning it off for cash when I cut you off?”
“I have.”
“Where did you get the ring?”
“Harry Winston.”
“Harry Win – Harry Winston? Are you fucking kidding me? The heir to the Sterling-Knight diamond fortune should only propose with a Sterling-Knight diamond! Fix this, Sebastian.”
As he ends the call, my mind is racing. To be fair, that went about as well as it could have. But I have to figure out a way to cover my tracks and not let my father find out about my deal with Elle. There’s no way I can go through with this engagement scam without my father’s meddling involvement, but I have to make this work. He can’t know this isn’t real. Like Elle said, it needs to be believable. Elle’s trust and safety are on the line, and so is my reputation.
I plan the perfect date. The perfect engagement. Everything is going to go off without a hitch. I text Elle to tell her to be ready for seven, not to be a dick, but because it’s going to take around ninety minutes to get to our destination and I didn’t want to begin too late. No one wants to eat at ten o’clock at night. Well, no one outside of continental Europe anyway.
She texts me her address and I pass it on to my driver.
The car pulls up outside her flat, and I nod to my driver to wait. I step out and make my way up to her door, taking a deep breath before knocking. Elle opens the door, looking stunning in a gorgeous black and cream dress that hangs off her shoulders with a bow and it moulds to her curves in a way which makes my mouth water. She smiles when she sees me, a dainty pearl necklace flashing around her neck in the outside light, and there’s a hint of curiosity in her eyes, as if she’s trying to figure out what I have planned.
“Bastian, you clean up nice,” she quips, stepping out and locking her door behind her. I notice that depending on her mood, she calls me by different names. Currently I’m in her good books, hence calling me Bastian. Things can only get better if she calls me Bas. I know I’m in trouble when she full-names me.
“You look beautiful, Elle, stunning,” I reply, offering her my arm. She takes it, and we make our way down to the waiting car. As we settle inside, I catch her stealing glances at the bags from Harry Winston resting on the seat next to us.
“What’s all this?” she asks, unable to contain her curiosity any longer.
I chuckle nervously, rubbing the back of my neck. “Just a little surprise for you, for later,” I say cryptically, hoping she won’t press further.
Elle raises an eyebrow but lets it go, choosing instead to enjoy the ride in silence. The tension between us is palpable, a mixture of nerves and excitement swirling in the air. When we finally arrive at our destination, Elle’s eyes widen in surprise as she takes in the private jet sitting on the airstrip.
“Really?” she chuckles, turning to me with a shake of her head. “Your father’s jet?”
“The company jet, I think you’ll find.”
“That’s owned by your father.”
“For now.”
“Where are we going then?”
“You’ll see.”
“How long will it take?”
“Around ninety minutes, give or take.”
She nods absentmindedly, her brain whirling to try to calculate where we could be going based on the flight time, and I smile. She was never one for letting things go when we were younger. I remember her hounding her brother and I for details of our first crushes until we gave in and told her. Elle’s always been able to wrap me around her little finger – she just doesn’t know it.
“This isn’t the Gulfstream. Did your father…company, upgrade?”
“We expanded. The Gulfstream is for long range and my father is using it this weekend. This is new.”
“The Praetor 600? Nice.”
Of course I shouldn’t be surprised that Elle knows her private jets. She’s grown up accustomed to the same lifestyle as me, moves in the same circles as me, but she still manages to surprise me somehow.
“I’ll give you the tour,” I tell her dryly, and she chuffs a laugh but moves ahead of me to climb the stairs to board. I stand behind her and watch her arse with every step she takes, my dick stirring in interest at her long shapely legs and short but modest skirt.
I silently let out a frustrated breath as I follow, reminding myself I have to drag this out. At the very least I need a ring on Elle’s finger before I sleep with her.
As we board the luxurious jet, Elle wanders around the cabin, taking in the luxurious fixtures and fittings, running her hands over the supple cream leather seats, her stiletto heels sinking into the luxuriously soft carpet. I admire the way she’s able to maintain her balance and poise when many women have teetered walking on carpet half as plush as this.
We settle into our seats, and the attendant brings a bottle of champagne and two tulip flutes for us. I offer her a drink, and she graciously accepts the glass of champagne.
“So, where are we going?” she asks, taking a sip.
“It’s a surprise,” I say, trying to maintain my composure. “Just sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride.”
She sighs, a small smile playing on her lips. “Alright, Bastian. I trust you.”
I know she’s only talking about our date, that she trusts that I’m taking her somewhere nice and suitable, but warmth spreads through me at her words. If I could get her to trust me in all things, it would be perfect.
As the jet takes off, I can’t help but wonder what my father will think when he finds out about our engagement. Elle’s family too. Especially her brother. But for now, I’m focused on making this the most unforgettable date of Elle’s life.
The jet quickly gains altitude, and Elle leans back in her seat, closing her eyes and listening to the soft music that’s being played through the speakers. For a while, I simply sip my champagne and watch her.
She’s the epitome of good breeding, a true trophy wife for sure. My father will definitely approve of her. Once she gives up her job that is. There’s no way he’d approve of the future Mrs Sterling-Knight working a menial nine to five.
“Bas…” Elle begins hesitantly, opening her eyes to meet mine.
“Yes, Elle?”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“What do you…do at the club?”
“What club?” I ask, brows drawing together as the palest pink blush blooms on her cheeks and spreads down onto her décolleté.
“For Me.”
I smirk. “I would have thought it would be obvious what I do there, Elle. It’s what everyone goes there to do. I fuck beautiful women.”
She scowls and huffs. “I know that.” She sighs and crosses her arms over her chest. “Forget it, Seb.”
Seb again. Somehow I’ve messed up, but she’s not too annoyed otherwise she would have called me Sebastian.
“Sorry, Elle. No, go on. What do you mean?”
She shrugs her delicate shoulders, the movement drawing my attention to her chest for a split second. Everything about Elle is dainty and petite. She’s doll-like and innocent – literally – and fuck if thinking about corrupting her doesn’t make me hard.
“I just meant…what sort of things do you like…at the club?”
“Are you asking if I like to be pegged?” I tease, flashing her a grin. “No, I don’t by the way.”
“Are you a Dom?” She asks boldly.
I tilt my head, considering her question, before replying slowly, “I am dominant in the bedroom.”
She frowns. “Is that different?”
“It can be,” is all I reply, my tone making it clear that this is all I’m going to say on the matter.
Elle frowns. “Well that doesn’t tell me much about you.”
“Those things are…well, you don’t need to know them about me.”
“Why not? We are going to be married for an entire year.”
“Yes, but we’ll only be having sex the once, so it’s irrelevant,” I reply tersely.
“Yes, but I think I deserve to know what my husband is getting up to when he leaves the house,” she counters, a bite to her words.
I pause. Shit. I’m going to be married for a year and unable to have sex with my wife. What am I going to do?
“I…I didn’t think of that,” I murmur.
“I figured. Look, if this has to be believable then your man-whoring ways have to stop. You’ll be married. No more billionaire playboy bachelor.”
“You expect me to be celibate?” I ask slowly, but Elle surprises me by shaking her head.
“No. Never. But I think discretion is key, and the only way to ensure that is to keep extramarital activities behind the closed doors of ‘For Me’. What do you think?”
I consider her words, unable to deny the logic in her argument. It’s a bitter pill to swallow, but she’s right. I can’t continue my lifestyle, at least not openly. We’re getting married, and although this year-long contract is a sham, I owe it to her to at least pretend.
“Alright,” I say softly, “I’ll see what I can do.”
She beams at me, clearly pleased with herself. “I knew you’d come around. It will be good for both of us, I think, to have an outlet. Stop us from killing each other.”
“Both of us?”
“Umm, yes. You didn’t think I’d just stay home like a good little wife while you’re out fucking everything that moves at the club, did you?”
I scowl.
“No, I didn’t think that,” I reply sharply, defensive. Except you did. You don’t like the idea of anyone other than you being with Elle. Tell her that. “I wasn’t planning on keeping you locked up or anything like that.”
“Well, like you, Seb, I have needs. And I imagine once your end of the contract is fulfilled, those needs will rise and multiply.”
I hate that she wants me to take her virginity, just so she can move on to fuck other people. Jealousy, white-hot and blinding, bubbles up in me at the thought.
Elle’s eyes meet mine again, her gaze steady and unwavering.
“You don’t need to tell me if you’re sleeping with others, Seb,” she says softly. “But I expect you to be honest with me if it affects our relationship.”
She’s right. I can’t expect her to stay home while I have my fun. I can’t deny the flare of…protectiveness I feel at the thought of her with another man. But I also can’t control her desires, and I’m not willing to tie her down with a lie.
“Fine,” I sigh, grudgingly agreeing. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Elle smiles, victorious and teasing. “I expect nothing less from you, Bastian.”
As we continue our flight towards our destination, I try to push my jealousy aside and focus on making this the best year of Elle’s life. I remind myself that this is just a contract, and nothing more. But deep down, I know that old feelings I once had for her are already resurfacing, and I can’t help but wonder if this year together will change everything.
“There’s also the matter of my job,” Elle adds, her voice softening. “I love what I do, and it helps me unwind. Being able to continue with it during our marriage will be important for my sanity.”
My father will hate that.
“Of course,” I say, nodding slowly. I can understand her need for independence and routine. I’ll have to find a way to make it work with my father’s demands. “I’ll make sure you have the space and time to do that.”
Elle smiles warmly, clearly relieved. “Thank you, Bastian. I appreciate that.”
I sip my champagne, my mind racing with thoughts of how to balance our commitment to each other with the realities of our lives. It won’t be easy, but I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make this arrangement work. After all, my inheritance is worth it.
“Now, let’s enjoy our flight. Where are we going, Bastian? Your secret is killing me.”
I grin, happy to see her eager anticipation. “Just wait and see, Elle. This is going to be the best year of your life.”