The Mysterious Son-in-law

Chapter 1: The Wrong Choice

It was nighttime in T-city.

The beauty of the city was mostly seen at night when the lights danced along the horizon. It was like a fairy tale but in the real world.

In front of the most notorious hotel in the city, a black BMW stopped at the entrance. A man in a black suit ran out from the driver’s seat to open the car door delicately for whoever was coming out.

A pair of long legs walked out of the car with sparkling red heels that spoke of the volume of riches its owner possessed.

She was wearing a simple red ladies’ suit —one suitable to her body as her womanly curves could be seen. Her long blonde hair was tied in a rounded bun to match her fancy look.

The man who had opened the car's door bowed instantly as a sign of respect because the lady that was standing in front of him wasn't just an ordinary woman. She was someone that could get him fired if he didn't play his role well.

"Good evening, milady," the man said, his head still facing the floor.

"Good evening, Thomas. Has the table been set?" She asked with a luxurious voice that could sweep any man off his feet.

"Y-yes milady." The man stammered as he raised his head.

"Good. Shall we?" She stated this and started waltzing towards the hotel without waiting for his reply.

The security guard at the entrance nodded in respect as he saw her approaching. He reached forward to pull the door open, and she acknowledged him with a wave of her hand as she walked through.

She was about to take another step forward when her phone rang from her purse. She took it out and heaved a sigh before looking at the caller ID.

"Oh, it's Jane," she said happily, and she clicked the answer button.

"Hello, princess! How is your blind date going?" Jane asked from the other side of the line.

Savannah rolled her eyes. Her friend was always the dramatic type, but she was used to that trait of hers already. She could picture her giggling to herself. Jane couldn’t contain her joy as she felt her best friend was getting a good match tonight.

"Oh, Jane. I have told you this before. It isn't a blind date, but just a simple contract deal for the guy to pretend to be my fiancé." Savannah spoke in a low voice so that the security man wouldn’t be able to eavesdrop on their conversation. Since her personality was in the famed community, it would be better for her to maintain a low profile in public, especially when talking about herself on open ground.

You never know who might hear you.

"Oh, come on, Savannah. You don't know what might happen. What if this turns out to be the man of your dreams?"

"Oh, please, Jane." Savannah cut her short, as she was tired of hearing the same bullshit over and over again.

"You don't need to predict things that aren’t going to happen. I'm only doing this so that my family can get the hell out of my head, and you know this. I don’t want them looking for some stupid brat to call my man. I am sick and tired!" Savannah hissed out in frustration.

"But Savannah—"

"No. No. No, Jane, that’s enough. I'm going in soon. When the deal is done, I will let you know, but I hope you picked a good match." It came out more like a threat than a question.

Jane sighed as she gave up on her friend. Savannah was a stubborn girl. She never listened to anyone, especially when her mind was made up of something.

"Yes, he is good-looking," Jane answered, and Savannah could imagine her rolling her eyes.

"Good. I'll talk to you later then," Savannah said as she ended the call. She then proceeded further into the hotel like a queen of her world.

Inside the notorious hotel, in the bar section, a captivating man was seated at table sixteen. His presence carried a dangerous aura that could swipe the whole world just by the snap of his fingers.

His appearance was that of a super international model —a man who was beautiful and also full of mysteries; his skin was flawless and as white as snow.

He crossed his legs like a well-crowned king as his pretty green eyes scanned the document in front of him with cold eyes as a vein popped on his forehead, showing a sign of discomfort.

"Mr. Benson, are these all the records for the sales this month?" He asked, and his voice sounded like a command from an immortal god —stern and at the same time intimidating.

The man sitting opposite him lowered his head and nodded in response, as he was too scared to look at the man in front of him.

"I am asking a question, Mr. Benson, and I demand a proper answer from your mouth and not your head," he said sternly, yet his eyes were still on the documents.

Mr. Benson bravely raised his head as he breathed his last breath to face the devil. It was not that the man was even looking at him, yet he knew everything that happened around him.

Mr. Benson wondered what type of supernatural ability his boss possessed.

 "S…sir —I... we tried but…"

 "You tried? Is that the word you should say to me?" The man asked coldly as his eyes finally, left the documents to face the shuddering man in front of him.

"Are you saying you tried your best?" He asked again. This time, with more anger and his eyebrows, rose above their natural position.

"Umm, what I meant, sir, was that we'll do our best!" Mr. Benson said as he bowed his head apologetically.

"Do your best. Huh?"  The man asked as he rested his back on the seat he was on.

"I will only give you one day to fix up this mess if you value your reckless life." He hissed and threw the documents on the table aside.

"Now, get the hell out of my sight before I lose my patience."

Mr. Benson stood up and packed all the documents on the table before running out like a scared child chased by a mad dog.

The strange man sighed as he felt relief that the case was solved. He knew Mr. Benson would get the job done as soon as possible. The man was a good worker. He only needed to be threatened occasionally like this.

With a satisfied smile on his face, the man took a glass of whiskey that had been sitting on the table and took a slow sip.

He snapped his fingers, and the waitress at the corner waiting for his call ran to him.

"Sir, you called," the lady said.

"Yes, how much for the bill?" he asked. And the lady did some calculations on her tab and gave him the total of his bill.

He brought out some dollar notes and threw them on her face. "Keep the change," he said, about to stand up from his seat since his job was done, but a lady suddenly took the chair opposite him. The one Mr. Benson sat on previously.

"Hello, I am Savannah Brentwood, and what's your name?" The lady asked with a charming smile.

The man looked at her. Confusion flashed in his eyes. He sat back in his seat.

He knew he didn't have any more clients to deal with, and as far as his schedule for the day was concerned, he was done for the day. So why was this lady sitting at his table?

Savannah took a look at the man and almost lost her breath. She couldn't believe her friend went to the extreme to get her such a charming model to play the role so well.

But due to her status in society, she needed to keep a perfect profile, and that meant not drooling over a man.

Besides, she believed men should be the ones falling over the cliff for her and not the other way around.

"Miss, don't you think you're at the wrong table?" The man asked as his eyebrows folded quizzically at her.

"No, I don't think so." Savannah smiled.

Chapter 2: Playing with Fire

Savannah was lost in her imagination as she gazed at the man in front of her. 

Her eyes darted up and down at the man. She couldn't believe what she was seeing.

He resembled a young, handsome British duke, hot in style and appearance, even hotter than T-supermodel, City's Sylvester Brown —the guy who was trying to hit on her and she declined.

She couldn't figure out why she was so taken with this man's appearance when only a few seconds before she was trying to act like the prom queen she had always been.

Like there was something strange about him, something like a metal trying to drown her in his fantasy world, which had never happened to her before, but at the same time, she felt a dangerous aura around him like she was playing with fire.

She couldn't understand where this feeling was coming from.

His outfit alone was enou