one

You weren’t doing good.

It had been one year since your marriage. Technically, there was a wedding but everything was an arrangement, no romantic feelings, no sincerity in vows, the rings were taken off as soon as the event ended. The only mutual things ever since was hatred.

The stupid engagement turned your life into somewhat catastrophic and miserable. You’d suffered through countless sorrows in one year, fucking 365 days.

First thing, you had to take a hiatus on car racing.

Second thing, you had to move to New York. The most hustling city in the world that you never had an intention to stay longer than one-week vacation.

And the third thing. The worst. The major cause for the unexpected problems above. You were forced to deal with Mark Lee on daily circumstances.

You didn’t know who the hell Mark Lee was, his name sounded plain and tasteless. However the indifference soon transformed into hatred. Mark was your worst nightmare.

You didn’t use the word ‘hate’ on regulation. Despite the fact that you’re a cold, heartless and sometimes brutal human being, you didn’t use hate toward any people ever. Until you jumped into this marriage.

It’s clear that Mark hated you back, indeed more than you hated him.

The bottom line was your hate for him dipped in a thin shell of something that felt like love. But you promised yourself you’d crack it, break it and unleash pure hatred in its place before he got to you.

Besides the role of a decent wife, you also had to be his personal accountant. You had complete no knowledge about paperwork, how to do a schedule, how to prepare a espresso, how to use the printer. You’re a car racing enthusiast, business was not your cup of tea, neither anything relevant to numbers and stocks. You risked your life on the circuits, you enjoyed the name chant, you hit 150 on the dash whether it’s a Honda Civic or a Lamborghini Roadster. You’re not meant to wear pencil skirt and sit in front of a computer ten hours a day.

You were not a rebel. Kind of. Yet it’s not considerably ungrateful if you refused to have post-graduated education and started off with the career as a racer. You’re capable of keeping yourself alive with the amount of money you made from it, a championship triumph alone could purchase you a lavish life in one year, six month in excess if you’re an economical person. Therefore you didn’t suppose it’s anything wrong to live the life you truly desired as long as you didn’t harm anyone.

For the whole time being on this planet, you had no clue about what your family do for a living. Your father did something relevant to politics and your mother, she owned a chain of restaurants. You’re not supposed to play a huge role like a heir of a kingdom, your brother already helped with the restaurants and politics, screw that. The most significant thing was that no one in your family went against your passion in car racing, which you’re genuinely thankful that they didn’t judge you. Until, until they announced you about the engagement with some unknown motherfucker named Mark Lee. They announced, not asked, you had to emphasize on that. The reason behind this was the worst thing in the bad things you could possibly think of yet totally pointless. Your grandmother had a promise with his grandmother that one of their grate children would marry the one another. And the lottery called your name, him either.

Arrangement was arrangement, there’s no contract on paper to cancel and you had to oblige it despite how much you wanted to protest. But now you wished you had fought harder for yourself. You didn’t predict this marriage is a serious disaster.

...—...

It’s not your fault that Mark’s involved in this marriage, neither it was that you had an appearance resembles his first love. It’s none of your fault that you looked like the girl who shattered his heart. But your hair, your face, your eyes, your shoulders, whatever it is on your body reminds him of someone he had to forget.

You looked like her yet not. The constant scowl, not the same. The determination in your eyes, not the same. The logic of your speculation and the witty things you uttered out loud, not the same. The flexibility of your limbs, not the same. Your voice. More beautiful than hers.

Contrasting with your inferential hate, his hate toward you was irrational. He hated how you senselessly changed they way he looked at his first love. He hated the halfheartedness in your behavior. Hated the sarcasm and snark in your voice whenever you talked to him. Hated how mercilessly you were when you’re on the race tracks. Hated how he fell under your spell, treacherous yet charming. Hated that slowly it’s not her when he looked at you, it’s you when he looked at her.

He forgot to mention that his first love was your sister and you absolutely had no clue about it. Your high school best friend— Jolene was attending a college in Vancouver when he dated her. He knew you for years but you never knew who he was until one year ago. You’re a distinguished car racer. People always went insane for something that was not the stereotype. He’s not misogynistic person but it’s odd to see a woman managed to succeed in racing let alone a sophisticated woman like you.

He’s dazzled, so were the others.

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***