after the weekend, Dimitri's MIA. No calls, no text, no scandal. Yet. All week I've been treading on thin ice around Theodore and he's completely oblivious to everything. I don't think Dimitri hasn't broken the news to him yet and it makes me wonder what he would think.

Would he see me differently? Yes.

Would he explode? Maybe?

The boy's been in his own little world and pulling out his hair stressing about the upcoming exams. At the beginning of the week, Jeremiah had reported he'd seen him at student services for his exam stress. My heart goes out to him but he has nothing to worry about, I know he'll do well.

I stumble into class a little late, having overran by ten minutes to walk it across the school playground. To my surprise, students aren't hanging from the ceiling and no chairs have been thrown about. There's a light murmur of chatter and trade of insults.

"Miss! MISS! YO MISS!" Christian thundering voice yaps my ear down. I place my books on the desk, apologizing to everyone for arriving late. Chrisitian's still screaming my name. "I have a question," he states again when I don't reply.

My hands meet my waist, turning to face him. "I might have an answer,"

The classroom buzz dies down as they face him. "Should I get into trouble for something I didn't do?" I narrow my eyes at him, having not figured the gist of the conversation. What was he trying to say? Did he get into another fight on the field? Did a teacher give him detention again? Did Coach Saltz not give him a football to play with for lunch?

"No. If you haven't done it then you shouldn't get in trouble," I say, sounding so unsure of myself.

He grins triumphantly. "Glad we're on the same page Miss, 'cause I haven't done your homework," the class explodes with laughter as I facepalm myself. Jesús.

My face has morphed into a serious expression and he gazes wearily at me, knowing he's in deep shit. Good. "Christian, don't make me tell you again. You're leaving for study week in three weeks. Your final exams are less than four week away, and you don't have some ounce of fear? Beside, it was revision homework for you," Theodore slides his chair back, strutting up to my desk with sass.

I stare jadely at him, fearing for my life in case he suddenly knows about me and his brother. He simply smiles, winking at me and placing his own homework down. "Or at least be like Theo who's given me his copied homework from Sarah," Of course Sarah would give Theodore his homework, she's had a massive crush on him since the beginning of the year. Theodore isn't innocent in this either, he uses it to his advantage.

Theodore faces Christian, his pearly whites showing. "Yeah Chrissy. At least I've done it,"

He's grimly looking at Theodore now, arms folded across his chest. "I don't copy like you." he mumbles. They begin throwing insults about each other's hairlines back and forth and I manually step in to seize the crossfire. This was going to be one long class and Lunch couldn't have arrived faster.

The clock ticks, I sit silently straining my eyes at the examiners report I'm supposed to be writing for the year ten in class test. I don't mind being alone but sometimes it becomes suffocating to the point where my mind begins to wander.

I think back to the car ride, breakfast at Abuela's and the subtle flirting over dinner. The illusion he presented me was so perfect and innocent on his behalf. He had no business being that charismatic towards Abuela and playing the role of my loving fiancé. And now, he's completely disappeared off the face of the earth. Gone with the contract.

I'm suddenly reaching for my phone and dialing Asterio's number. The call doesn't go through. Oh for fuck sakes. He isn't getting rid of me that easily. I tap in Asterio's office number that I impulsively searched on google. Why was he ghosting me? I thought we had a delightful weekend?

I bite my lip as it rings. My heart wants to escape my chest and the sweat coats the palms. "Asterio Industries. Katherine Shepard speaking, how may I help you?" I roll my eyes, it's Katherine the burnette.

"Uh, hey? It's Isabella Rom–" the line cuts off. I'm left startled. What? Did she just cut me off? I don't realise I'm scolwing at the wall before Chopin fills the void. I sigh, breathy and irate. Chopin continues playing before it cuts with someone gentle sigh.

"Aisha Armani, Dimitri Asterio's PA. How may I help you?" her voice is monotonous and rather bored but polished and professional. Aisha Armani huh? Didn't know she married Anwar.

"Hey this is Isabella Romero and–"

"Hiya Isabella." her voice warms up immediately, she's smiling on the other end.

"Hey," her energy is contagious and relaxing. I find myself smiling for the first time this morning. "I'm so sorry this is very unprofessional of me to be calling the office but I just wanted to check on Dimitri?" Why did I sound so unsure of myself.

"Uh, Dimitri is fine. He's ju–" her voice gets cut off as a blistering rumble of screaming and shouting is heard on the other line. Aisha is silent, the screaming intensifies. I could recognise the distritinve voice anywhere. Dimitri's bleating the office walls down. "Uh, I'll call you from my personal cell Isabella. I need to run," she says in a rushed manner, her voice starting to distance from the phone. With that, the call abruptly ends. I stare idly into the distance, convinced that I can't win either way.

A knock on the door pulls me out of my misery, and enters Jeremiah. "Hey Bells," Bells? We're on nickname basis now?

"Hey Jere." He looks delicious with that stubble decorating his jaw and baby blue shirt with dark blue tie to match.

"Wanna grab a coffee?" My eyes dart to the clock above the door. Lunch ended in twenty-minutes.

"Right now? Will we make it on time?" He leans against the door, arms folded over his chest, his smile lopsided and flirty.

"If we run, yes. We can make it in five minutes and back," it's a challenge. Game on, Jeremiah.

Jeremiah was right, I have no stamina. He's fitter than an olympic runner. I'm still catching my breath as we walk back to school with our coffees decorating our hands. We're laughing at his weekend mishap - all of his white shirts are dyed pink now because Mr Einstein threw his Arsenal football shirt into the wash.

"How was your weekend then?" I freeze, heat swarms up my spine. I brush off the subject, telling him it was great. I wasn't in the mood to discuss Abuela, Kent nor Dimitri.

"So, I was wondering," he begins, taking a sip from his cup. "I've got two tickets to Piccadilly Theatre. It's for Moulin Rouge. Would you like to come with me?" his tone is suffocated with hope and he's gazing at me sagely.

My heart leaps forward, surprised that he's asking me to go. From the inside I'm dancing and swinging off a chandelier that freaking Jeremiah Spencer has finally noticed me. Then the thought of me signing the contact sweeps in and Dimitri's scowl is all I see.

What if Dimitri comes over the weekend and wants to discuss a certain clause in the contract? I think Jeremiah notices the sudden change in my expression because he asks me if I'm okay and I lie to him.

"I'm sorry Jere. I'm probably busy over the weekend but thank you for asking me. Maybe Carlos wants to go with you?" I study as his face forms in the saddest expression ever, the twinkle in his brown eyes fading instantly. I'm about to repeatedly apologise and declare that Theatre plays are my favourite but as I open my mouth, my phone pings.

"Sorry I mutter," reaching into my pocket to peer at the notification. It's an email.

To: [email protected]

Cc: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

Subject: Payment

Evening Miss Romero,

I am delighted to inform you that the first payment of £75,000 has been made. Every beginning of the month the money will be transferred into your account with Asterio Bank Limited with a subsequent follow up email for your records. You are encouraged to check your account to see for yourself.

Any further details or concerns may be discussed with Mr Asterio at his office at working hours or myself. My office hours are between 9 - 5 PM.

Kind regards,

Navraj Singh Brar,

Solicitor

Brar Chambers & Co,

55 George Street,

London, W1 7JR

The email irks me for some odd reason. I would have appreciated it more if I had heard it from Asterio's mouth instead of his lawyers. That's it, huh? This is game. Not a single text message, not a single call but an email from his lawyer. Screw it, if he can't bother to ring me and keep me updated on this whole fiancé situation-ship, then I will simply not wait for him. I've got my own life to be getting on with and there's no ring on my finger yet.

"Everything okay?"

"Hm, just perfect." Jeremiah doesn't believe me.

We walk in silence before I turn to him and say it without thinking. "So you got two tickets for the theatre? Is that offer for me being your date still available? My schedule's just cleared up," Screw Dimitri.