A Wife for the Billionaire

For the third time, I watched her open her mouth to speak, only for her to shut it the next second.

I was allowing her time to tell me that she didn’t mean those words. That it was all a mistake. I was biding my time for her to come to the realization of what she was asking for, and three times now, she almost did.

But for some unknown reason, she keeps deciding against it at the last minute.

What she was asking was impossible, I couldn’t just grant her such a demand. A brand, no, it was simply too much.

I massaged my jaw feeling the prickle of my stubble as I stared her down. Hoping that with my intense gaze and my expression hinting at the obvious, a turn down. That she would take the hint and take back her words.

But she didn’t. She managed to remain adamant while seeming complaisant at the same time. I watched her raise her finger and drop it before it got to her lips.

It was clear, she wasn’t going to say anything. She most definitely was not going to take back her words, she would rather wait in silence than do it.

So I asked,

"What would people think if after a year or less with me, you are relieved with your own brand?"

She relaxed, almost sighing in relief because I hadn’t turned her down outright. But that was the plan, let her think there was hope and squash it when she least expected.

"I seem to recall a certain someone who doesn’t give a shit about other people’s opinions or has he changed?" She returned.

In spite of myself, I smiled as I said,