CHAPTER FORTY

DAMIEN

"You can use all the threats you want, and I may have to comply because I don't have a choice," Tamara said as she stared me down and jabbed a finger at my chest, "but just know this, I'm not afraid of you and never will be." She added, her annoyed gaze focused on me.
"I don't care if you're afraid of me or not Tamara, I just need you to be obedient and this foolish idea of yours about moving into the pool house to give me space is not going to happen Tamara Sanders, you might hate it, but you will live here, wake up here, and see me everyday until our agreement ends," I said, taking another step towards her.
Tamara just stared at me for a moment, as if she wanted to say something else but decided not to as she drew away from me, was she giving up?
"You claim to despise me, Mr Kingston, but whenever I suggest something that benefits your interests, you flare up and get angry like a child throwing a tantrum, why is that?" Tamara inquires as she tilts her head to the side, her questioning gaze fixed on me.
"I don't flare up and I definitely don't throw tantrums Tamara, and the only reason I get angry at your solutions is because they always sound ridiculous and are detrimental to making this agreement fail," I said as she just stared back at me. Her face was devoid of emotions, she wasn't so easy to read like everyone else's, you only get to see her emotions if she wants you too.
"I see," she said, and we were plunged into an awkward silence, with no one speaking as we just stared at each other, having had enough of the awkward silence I decided to break it.
"You will not be moving into the pool house Tamara, and you will behave in accordance with the contract, do I make myself clear Mrs Sanders?" I inquired, and I could see defiance in her eyes; was she going to continue fighting me, I was already exhausted as it is?
"Crystal clear Mr Kingston, I'm only agreeing to this because I'm tired and what to go to bed
Don't expect me to always agree with you because that will never happen, anyways we can always continue this little discussion later" Tamara stated causing a frown formed on my face
"There is nothing more to talk about on this issue Tamara, you're staying here and it's final, so let's end this here," I said, about to turn and walk away when I remembered Tamara and I's honeymoon/business trip. "Before you leave, I would like to inform you that we would be leaving for Paris by the end of the week for our honeymoon," I said.
"Is it necessary that we go on a honeymoon? This marriage isn't real, so can't we just tell everyone we were too busy with the smart house project to go." She suggested in an annoyed tone
"Yes, it's imperative because we have to maintain the appearance that we are happily married, so going on a honeymoon is part of the list of things we are required to do; we can't just choose not to go, it would make people suspicious."
"I see," she said again, and those two words are starting to grate on my nerves.
"Don't worry, we won't be seeing each other during those two weeks we'll be there, because I'll be busy with work."
"All right, Mr Kingston, I'll be ready when the time comes; where will I stay now that I'm here?"
"Your room is the first on the right after you pass through that door, and my room is two doors down if you need me."
"I won't be needing anything, Goodnight Mr Kingston," she said as she walked towards the door I had described to her.
As soon as she was out of sight, I let out a frustrated sigh and ran my hand through my hair. Tamara is more than I can handle; she is not as docile as her file indicated in the beginning; did I marry the wrong sister? I honestly don't know how we can both live in peace without getting at each other's throats.
A few days later.....
We were on my private jet traveling to Paris for our honeymoon and Tamara was ignoring me as usual. Two days after our wedding and argument, my mother called to see if everything was okay with Tamara. I proceeded to give Tamara the phone to allay her concerns, and they ended up talking for an hour and a half before Tamara gave me my phone back. When I asked what they had talked about, she just gave me the vague response "girls stuff" and left.
It was strange to see my mother open up to Tamara. She always kept to herself, and seeing her so chummy with Tamara irritated me for some reason.
What was it about her that made everyone think she is a fucking Saint?
My gaze moved to her, and she was still in the same position she was the first time I checked on her, tucked snuggly into the chair with a blanket over her, reading a book called to read a mocking Jay, I'm not sure why she finds reading so fascinating, it's just words on paper.
After my gaze and thoughts left Tamara, I returned to work and couldn't concentrate, so I signaled for an air hostess to come over. When the air hostess arrived, she gave me a flirty smile and leaned in a bit, revealing her exposed cleavage. She was quite beautiful with her honey blonde hair, baby blue eyes, and the body which women her age would kill for.
"Hello, Mr Kingston, you called?" She asked in a seductive tone, batting her eyelashes at me.
"Yes, please get me a cup of coffee, black, without any sugar or cream". I responded quickly, if Tamara hadn't been present, I would have accepted her offer, but sadly that is not the case.
The airhostess was visibly upset by my abrupt dismissal of her, but she quickly covered it up with a grin and hurried away, giving me my coffee a short while later.
When the pilot warned us to belt up because we were about to land, Tamara was so absorbed in her book that she made no attempt to get up.
"Tamara, Tamara," I called out trying to get her attention, but it was futile, so I placed my laptop on the table beside me and leaned in and tapped her on the shoulder.
"What do you want, Mr Kingston?" she jerked forward, her questioning gaze falling on me. Her brow was raised, her ponytail was a mess, and her glasses were almost falling off her nose. It made her appear cute in a childish way.
I was drawn out of my thoughts when she cleared her throat, her questioning gaze still on me, "use your seat belt, we'd be landing soon," and she obliged by putting her book back into her purse before using her seat belt.
We arrived in Paris a few minutes later and both descended the plane. Tony, one of our hotel's managers in Paris, was patiently waiting for us at the airport with a car.
"Bonjour! (Good morning), Mr. and Mrs. Kingston. Welcome to Paris, the city of love and fashion; my name is Tony Mitchell, and I will be your tour guide while you are here "He greeted with a cheerful tone and a huge grin on his face, and I found myself wondering why he was so fucking happy at 9 a.m in the morning.
"Je suis très heureux de faire votre connaissance Mr Tony (pleased to meet you Mr Tony)." Tamara greeted me as I looked up in surprise; she knew how to speak French.
"You speak French, Madam?" Tony inquired.
"Oui, just a little," Tamara said, giving Tony a shy smile.
"No worries madam, I shall help you during your stay here, if you have issues communicating," she added.
"Merci Mr. Tony." she responded, then we all got into the car and headed for the hotel.
After our baggage was delivered to our room, I quickly showered and changed into a suit for the meeting I needed to be at by eleven o'clock— and it was already 10:30. So, before leaving, I went by Tamara's room, which was next to mine. I had reserved the penthouse suite for the two weeks we would be staying here, and fortunately for us, it had two rooms, so we wouldn't have to share a room. Tamara was so relieved to hear this, which made me feel a little insulted—does she hate me that much that she doesn't even want to share a room with me?
I knocked on the door, and she immediately opened it. She appeared to be on her way out as well. She wore a blue summer dress, black flats, and her hair was pulled back in a ponytail.
"Are you going somewhere?" I asked which was a stupidly obvious question since she was dressed.
"Yes, Mr Tony is taking me sightseeing, because you would be busy and I don't want to be locked in here while I'm in this beautiful city," she said as her gaze scanned my full length.
"Are you going to the office?" She asked
"Yes, I have a meeting at 11 and will be back by late, so you don't have to wait up."
"OK then, good bye," she simply said, and as she was about to close the door, I took out a black card to give her; instead of accepting it, she stared at me as if I had lost my mind.
"Why are you giving me a credit card?" she inquired, her brow raised.
"In case you need something," I replied, but she did not accept the credit card. Instead, when her gaze met mine, she frowned.
"I don't need it, thanks; I'm capable of buying what I need" she said before slamming the door in my face. I would have walked right in and reprimanded her for her rude behavior, but I was already late and didn't have the time so I left the room and headed for the lobby.
When I arrived at the lobby, a car was already waiting to take me to my meeting. As soon as I got in the car we were off, and it only took us about ten minutes to get to the hotel. I got out of the car and went inside, and the receptionist walked over to me with a small dmike on her face.
"Good morning, Mr Kingston, the meeting is this way," she said as she led me to the board room on the ground floor.
When we entered the boardroom, my gaze was drawn to Emilia. What was she doing in Paris and at my hotel?