Aliya's POV
"No one touches my wife. Next time you try this, you'd be eating through a pipe."
Nick's words startled me, and it sure startled everyone else. We weren't even married yet, and he was already standing up for me. Who is this man?
It's funny how I walked into a bathroom and met the most beautiful man I had ever seen in my life, and trust me, I had seen a lot of men. For a second, I had forgotten I should be scared because a man was in the ladies' room, but I stood there feasting my eyes on his body.
His face was finely chiseled, perfect height, a lot taller than me and Philip combined, a nicely drawn tattoo on his left hand. My eyes railed from his chest to his torso, and that was when I remembered to scream. He ran towards me, closing my mouth, and I couldn't help but stare into his striking eyes, a blend of blue and grey.
"How dare you speak to my fiancé that way? Do you know who I am, you incompetent fool?" Philip growled, snapping me back to reality as he tried to intimidate Nick, with Camille by his side like some trophy girlfriend, but it didn't seem to be working. He usually hated people standing up to him, and Nick sure did kick a nerve.
I stood there, unable to speak, but smirked at the scene unfolding right in front of me. If this was what 10 million dollars could do for a guy to protect me this much, then maybe I was willing to pay him to be my fake husband for the rest of my life.
But on second thought, he's just acting up; all he cared about was the money, so I couldn't fall into his charms. I would never fall for an arrogant, broke guy. How on earth is someone even arrogant and penniless at the same time?
Nick let out a dark chuckle, his expression cold. "I don't care who you are, but I'm certain you are a nobody. Keep your fiancé away from my wife, then I would reconsider her keeping her tongue in her mouth."
The tension in the restaurant was becoming uncontrollable, and I feared the reputation I had tried so hard to keep on the low would now attract people because of my stupid ex-boyfriend and his puppy dog. But lucky enough the restaurant wasn't packed and people here minded their business. Still, I had to leave this place.
"You really want to see what I can do, don't you?" Philip smirked and turned around, placing a kiss on Camille's lips before taking out his phone. "Mrs. Mendez, I'm afraid I won't be able to dine at your restaurant anymore. There are peasants here; they're inconveniencing me and my lovely date. If you don't send security right this instant, I'll make sure you run out of business," he spoke on the phone, looking me straight in the eye, and for a second, I imagined myself strangling his neck and taking the life out of his body.
"Aliya, will you let this man speak to you this way? You know you can easily throw him out, right?" Brooke whispered to me, but I shrugged it off immediately. I knew I could make them bow to me, but where's the fun in that, right?
I can't let Philip know who I really am right now; it'll be too easy. I'll make sure to take away everything he boasts of slowly. Without my money, he's nothing, but he doesn't just know that yet, and soon enough, he'll know and come back crawling. It's a matter of time.
"It's okay, Nick, Brooke. Let's leave. Besides, I don't think I can breathe the same air as these cheats. They're intoxicating me, and I wouldn't want that for both of you as well," I said in a provocative tone that had Camille's nostrils flared harder than a bird's wings in flight. I knew for a fact I had gotten to her already.
"But Aliya…" Brooke tried to protest, and I shot her a glare. The way I looked at her was harsh and I would explain everything to her later, but for now, we had to go. Nick hesitated as well; there was something in his eyes, almost as if he could hold Philip and snap him in two, but he obeyed me anyway, and we brushed past them.
"That's right, Aliya, get your filthy self away from here. Only the rich belong here," Camille's voice trailed me behind as we exited the grand doors and made our way to my car.
She was a fool for believing Philip was anything other than a thief and cheat. It's funny she thought I wasn't rich when my grandfather probably founded the name rich and money.
"Why did you let them speak to you that way? I mean, you're a Van Alen. Don't they know that? And I know for a fact Van Alens aren't saints." Nick sounded so worried but at the same time irritated. I couldn't understand if he was angry I didn't fight back or if he was angry I was a Van Alen.
"Thank you for standing up for me, but I didn't need you to do that. I can take care of myself. I'll let you in on one thing: my life, my business, and what happened back there isn't part of your job, okay? And don't say what you don't know about my family because, really, you know nothing," I said calmly, but the fire in his eyes—it was almost as if it'd burn me in seconds—and then it suddenly disappeared.
He looked at me with the most seductive eyes ever. "You're right. I know nothing about your family, and I'm sorry for intruding in your personal affairs. I'll stay away from that, ma'am," he sneered. Brooke just stood there, staring at the growing tension between us.
"Great, now that we've understood each other, here's the address to my penthouse," I said, taking out a card from my Birkin white purse. "Be there by 5 p.m. this evening, and we'll discuss more on the terms of this contract." I handed him the card, and he took it, still not taking his eyes off me.
"Sure, I'll be there," he replied, and I nodded, not wanting to go further in our conversation. I turned away from him and got into the driver's seat. Brooke got in as well, and I sped away.
Brooke stayed quiet the entire ride back to the office, and I didn't offer a word as well. She must hate me for how I snapped at her, but I needed to.
Once we got to the back entrance of the office building, we stepped out of the car. "Miss Van Alen, I'll go prepare the documents that need your signature now," she murmured and began walking away.
"Stop, Brooke. I didn't want to look at you that way. If you must know, Philip is my ex-boyfriend," I explained my failed love life to her in minutes. Some might say you can't just make your assistant your friend and part of your business, but I didn't see Brooke as just an employee—we shared a bond.
As we spoke and laughed together about Philip's stupidity, my phone chirped. I took it out, and it was Dad again. He had been calling all morning, but I ignored it. What did the old man want from me this time?
I picked it up. "Aliya Van Alen, your father calls you, and you ignore his calls? You brat! However you turned out to be my daughter, I can't put my mind to it, but you need to come home now!" he spat, and I rolled my eyes. His hurtful words weren't strange anymore; I was used to it.
"What do you need me for?" I asked coldly.
"To prepare you for your wedding ceremony tomorrow. The De Lucas finally sent me a response, and Liam De Luca has agreed to marry a tramp like you." His response sent shivers down my spine.
"What!" I yelled, but he had broken the call off already.
Fuck! Wasn't the wedding scheduled to take place by weekend? What happened?
First of all, there is no way on earth I'm getting married to a De Luca and secondly, If he thought for one second I was the little girl he tossed around before, then he was sorely mistaken.
Tomorrow, I'm getting married to Nick.