Chapter 55


    Seriously? I knew a lot about colors– I knew most of the number codes to describe them in


    programming, but I had never felt the need to mark some color as my favorite. Why the hell would I?


    “Everyone has colors they like,” Veronica convinced. “How about thinking about one color that soothes


    you and makes you feelfortable? It could be rted to your childhood toy or the ce you visited


    when you were young. How about that?”


    Her suggestions swirled inside my head, but no childhood memory of mine was rted to a certain


    color. I remember that Grandpa painted my room pink and lc, and I loved that room, but it was


    because my Grandpa did it for me, not because I loved those colors. Discouraged, I decided to pick


    something random...


    I mumbled, “Blue.”


    “Pardon?” Veronica blinked at me curiously.


    Shyness shed in my expression. I couldn‘t exin how I ended up picturing Aren in his navy blue suit.


    I adored him in every kind of suit, but, for some reason, his sexiness reached a whole new level when


    he wore any shade of blue. “Blue.” Voicing that one word again filled my whole body with strange


    agitation. “Oh, that‘s perfect!” Veronica eximed, sping her hands together. “We have a perfect


    design for decorations with light–blue and ”


    LITTIIN


    “No.” I shook my head with confidence. “It cannot be light–blue. The shade must be darker, like cobalt


    blue, navy blue, or... indigo blue.”


    Her mouth curled into a mischievous grin, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Indigo blue! Let‘s go with


    indigo blue! It could be just perfect! We could order indigo flowers for the decorations and mix them with


    some white, and it will look amazing!” She giggled, searching through her catalog to show me what she


    had in mind.


    The pictures she showed me presented amazing flower arrangements and fancy table settings. My lips


    rushed to form a smile as I saw the gentle mix of white and deep, vivid blue. I instinctively knew these


    colors suited him––they suited us.


    Veronica turned out to be a true genius in her profession, able to apply her clients‘ weirdest ideas and


    make them fit into reality. When she showed me her previous creations, I felt that I was in good hands.


    At the same time, I keptparing my level of visual creativity with all the colorful suggestions from her


    other clients and found myself dull. Sitting there with her and discussing the subtle differences between


    chiffon and organza was probably the most out of myfort zone kind of thing I had ever done.


    Fortunately, my clever wedding nner must have had a sixth sense telling her that I could hardly


    understand what she was saying. Therefore, she simplified hernguage the best way she could to not


    make me feel like an absolute idiot. She talked me through the different ways I could set up the outdoor


    aisle for the wedding. She suggested using multiple flower gands to make magical, romantic curtains


    that would lead to the makeshift bower where Aren and I would say our vows.


    Imagining every single detail felt bitter–sweet. It felt as if I was nning an event that could easily be


    every little girl‘s dream, except for the fact that it was all a fa?ade. We weren‘t in love, and as much as I


    couldn‘tin about my peculiar rtionship with Aren, this marriage already had a termination date.


    In two years, we were supposed to go back to being strangers.


    “Mr. Lan, over here!” Veronica called out to my husband–to–be, pulling me out of my bemusement


    I turned my head around and saw Aren and Neil walking toward our table. My fiancé was wearing navy


    blue... Had he noticed that I found him most attractive in that color? I bit my lip, taking in the magnificent


    sight of him. As he caught me staring at him, a wicked smirk formed on his lips. He nodded, greeting


    Veronica, and then sat next to me, smugly kissing my hand at hello.


    Damn it! I was supposed to be pissed at him, but my freaking hormones would dly make me act like a


    puppy, fawning over him! I ended up struggling not to smile while he grabbed my hand in his and ced


    it on his thigh. To make matters even worse, my flusteredness was obvious to both Neil and Veronica.


    Once Aren‘s assistant sat down next to our wedding nner, I could see them grinning in enjoyment


    while observing me blush around Aren. “Have you chosen anything yet?” Aren asked, shifting his eyes


    from Veronica to me. I smiled hesitantly, but before I said a single word, Veronica blurted out, “We will


    go with indigo blue.”


    “What?” Aren raised his eyebrows at me, his expression quickly turning to a deadly serious


    195 all about the color


    Còntens bel0ngs to N?(v)elDr/a/ma.Org


    one.


    I gasped nervously. Was there anything wrong with choosing that color? The restlessness within me


    mixed with annoyance. He was the one who wanted me to choose, and now he was showing me that he


    had a problem with my choice?!


    “Whose idea was that?” he asked, his tone firm and indifferent.


    “Your fiancée,” Veronica announced proudly, ratting me out.


    him to keep on the act. Does anyone mind telling me what was wrong with my choice?!


    His grip on my hand tightened, but he didn‘t say a single word. He shifted his eyes to Veronica instead


    “Let‘s add gold color to it as well,” he said,mandingly. “Excellent!” Veronica widened her eyes in


    excitement. “It will add a touch of mour, money, power—”


    “No,” Aren cut her off curtly, gently grasping a strand of my wavy hair. “I want it to represent my sunshine


    and her golden hair.” His voice, filled with tenderness, made my heart skip a beat.


    I nced at him, confused as he smiled with a warmth I had never seen in his expression. I smiled back


    at him, but a huge question mark stayed on my face as I tried to process what made him act the way he


    did.


    My pounding heart didn‘t seem to slow down as Veronica exined to Aren the details of our wedding. I


    struggled to find any traces of his discontent on his face, but he stayed too focused on our wedding


    nner to let me read him. He just kept my hand in his grasp, gently rubbing his thumb against my palm


    side, teasing my nerves, and arousing me. I knew that if I wanted to ask him about it, I had to wait for the


    end of our meeting. In the meantime, my restlessness grew to an insane level.


    Finally, Veronica had written down our arrangements and left us alone in the café. Aren turned ‘my way


    with a smile and tenderly stroked my cheek. I was about to ask my question when the telephone ringing


    in his pocket took that opportunity away from me. I watched him walk away from the table to talk, an


    anxious grimace forming on my face.


    Neil leaned forward on the table with a smirk. “I got to hand it to you—if you wanted my boss to lose his


    fucking head over you, then this was a master move.” I chuckled nervously. “I‘m still not sure what I‘ve


    done, and what is it about adding the gold color to represent me? Neil cleared his throat, his amusement


    rising by the second. “Well... he calls you sunshine, so I assume that has something to do with your


    golden blond hair, and that‘s why he‘s chosen gold to be your color.” He shrugged. “Yeah... I get that


    much, but what would represent him then?” I asked as my heart hammered against my chest. “The color


    you chose for him. The fact that you did it unknowingly is quite delightful. If I believed in such crap, I


    would say it‘s destiny at work to put you two together.” Neil leaned his


    back against his chair and grinned beamingly, “Call me dumb, but I still don‘t get it,” I gave him a wry


    smile, Neil sighed, “Aren Lan is calctive and cold while making business decisions, but, like many


    sessful businessmen, he often relies on his gambler‘s instinct. That sometimes makes him


    superstitious, especially when he notices a “sign,” helping him make his decision. And it so happens that


    his Chinesest name, Lan, means blue... or more like indigo blue.,” I gasped.


    The change


    Blue. Now that I thought about it, it was the one color that had always been present in Aren‘s


    surroundings. It was visible in Lan Diamond Tower‘s architectural design, in the blue shades of ss that


    formed a crystal vault. It was also in Lan Diamond Corporation‘s logotype, not to mention, the most


    obvious example of Aren‘s enterprises –– the Blue Crystal Hotel. I had long known that Aren cherished


    his mother‘s name. Perhaps he thought that by making her name‘s meaning present in his life, he could


    keep the memory of her vivid. I bet that it was also a clear message to the Winton family so they would


    know where his loyaltyy. I had never even thought that choosing the color of the flower arrangements


    and wedding decorations could have any significant meaning, but it did for Aren, and I kept grinning


    inwardly, overjoyed with the idental right choice I made.


    While Aren talked on the phone, Neil filled me in that there was one more ce we needed to go that


    day, I had to get myself a wedding dress and Aren needed a tuxedo. Neil was supposed to apany


    Aren while I was going to get help from Miranda.


    “Mr. Lan wants you to feelfortable, so you may choose where to get the dress. We can either go to


    one of New York‘s finest bridal boutiques, or you can get a dress that is specially designed for you by a


    promising talent on the market and Mr. Lan‘s friend, Michael Yang,” Neil exined as we walked toward


    the car.


    Led by my sudden enthusiasm for everything Aren–rted, I replied, “Then I will dly visit Mr. Yang if


    he agrees to design a gown for me.”


    Neil nodded with approval and made a call to confirm my meeting with the designer. I couldn‘t hide my


    excitement. I had never been especially interested in the way I looked or what I wore, but I wanted the


    day of our wedding to be different. I wanted it to be special in every way, even if it was just an event


    that started our contractual marriage.


    My joyous mood faded as soon as Aren got into the car with a deep frown on his face. He grabbed my


    hand and tried to cover his irritation with a warm smile he gave me, but the problem seemed to be too


    serious for him to keep his poker face. “What is it?” I asked, staring into his eyes with concern. He


    reached out his hand and stroked my cheek. “There was a problem with our European unit‘s supply. I


    know how to solve the problem, but I need to go to London in person.” I touched his hand on my cheek.


    “How long will you be gone?” He smiled wryly. “I’m going to get my measurements taken, and then I‘m


    flying out. I‘ll try to fix the problem as soon as possible.” The tone of his voice sounded different from the


    one I got used to hearing when he discussed business. It was almost soothing as if he was doing his


    best not to make me worry. Of course, that was the exact thing that made me worried…


    I frowned. “What‘s the worst–case scenario?”


    He sighed heavily. “I wille back on our wedding day.”


    ““I‘wo weeks...” I muttered nervously,


    “Veronica will take care of everything. Neil will send the invitations, and you can invite even a hundred


    people if you want to. You just need to let him know,” he coaxed.


    I let out a humorless chuckle. “There are only six people in New York City that I could invite. and one of


    them is in aa.”


    “Even better!” Neil interrupted, tuming his head around from the front seat. “Less work for me.”


    I red at him. At that moment, I found his sarcasm searingly annoying. Fortunately, he caught the


    meaning of my stare and decided to stay silent for the rest of the way to the meeting with Mr. Yang.


    Aren locked his gaze on me. “I‘m sorry that I‘m leaving you alone with all of this.”


    I forced myself to smile. “I won‘t be alone. Miranda will help me with the dress, and there‘s Veronica to


    handle the rest of the work. I will be fine,” I assured.


    Aren narrowed his gaze at me. I knew that he could see right through me and notice how restless I


    was, but he decided to act as if he believed me.


    “You will do perfectly, sunshine.” His warm encouragement made my heart pound again.


    Soon after that, we arrived in front of a red brick building, Mr. Yang‘s atelier. Miranda was already waiting


    by the entrance. Aren got out of the car with me, and the three of us walked inside. As soon as we


    passed the threshold, a willowy–this Asian rushed toward us.


    “Miranda, Aren! What a pleasant surprise!” he eximed, spreading his arms wide before his eyes


    landed on me. “Well, hello there, cutie pie,” he purred sassily.


    A secondter, Aren‘s hand wrapped around my waist, possessively pulling me close to him.” Watch it,


    Michael. Don‘t try anything weird around my fiancée,” he hissed.


    Miranda stepped between the two, heaving an audible sigh of annoyance. “For God‘s sake, Aren! You


    know damn well that he would much rather bang you than your fiancée. And Michael, you shouldn‘t joke


    around like that... Aren‘s is peculiarly sensitive when ites to Cora.”


    I watched the whole scene with a nervous smile on my face. Aren still held his hand tightly around my


    waist, yet I chose to ignore that fact and stretched out my hand toward Michael.


    “Hi. My name is Cora Bell. It‘s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Yang.”


    He giggled, slightly covering his mouth with his hand. “Please call me Michael.” He reached out his


    slender arm for a feathery–gentle handshake.


    “Great! The introduction is over!” Miranda sped her hands. “Now, can we get to work already?” she


    urged. “Certainly, my dear,” said Michael, gesturing at the opened door, leading to his atelier. Miranda


    walked in first, and Michael was right behind her. I wanted to follow them, but then Aren grabbed my


    hand and stopped me in the corridor.


    2/3


    “Sunshine, I need to go now, and we probably won‘t see each other until our wedding, but there is


    something I wanted to give you,” he said, grabbing my hands in his. “I wish that i could have given you


    this personally, but there‘s no time. You will have to go and take it yourself. It‘s in my bedroom.”


    “It‘s OK,” I breathed out, unable to hide the fact that his words made me terribly anxious.


    “It‘s something that belonged to my Mother...”


    I swallowed hard and raised my eyebrows at him. “Are you serious? You want me to have something that


    was your mother‘s?”


    “Yes,” he replied before kissing my forehead. “It‘s in my safe, behind the wall mirror.” “Are you certain


    that you want me to open your safe?” My eyes kept scanning his face, trying to find traces of insanity. He


    smirked, his seductive gaze sending a wave of heat through my body. “Mother told me to give it to the


    woman I was going to marry. It so happens that that‘s you.” “B–but this is just a contract marriage...” I


    burst into awkwardughter. His arms slid around my waist. “Beautiful, I‘m not nning to marry anyone


    else.” “What?” was the only word I was able to choke out before he sealed my lips, kissing me


    passionately. His arms pulled me closer, pressing me against his body. My hands instinctively traveled to


    his neck, feeling the need to touch him. I couldn‘t care less if Miranda or Michael were watching us. It


    was time to admit it–Aren was my addiction, and each dose of him felt more and more intoxicating. I


    didn‘t know how long our kisssted. All I could tell was that my lips were already puffy and swollen when


    Aren leaned back. “I need to go now, beautiful,” he said, cing one more sweet peck on my forehead.


    “Wait!” I called out, as he was about to exit the building. “Your safe... You didn‘t tell me the code...”


    He smiled warmly. “The code is the date when we met,” he said before disappearing behind the door.


    I stood still in a daze, staring at the door. My heart thundered erratically. Putting together the most recent


    minutes of my life, I muttered, helplessly wondering, “What the hell has just happened?”