The CEO's Second Choice novel Chapter 9

I dab my eyes and take a deep breath, suddenly feeling exhausted. I would have understood if she came to me about everything and been there for her. She had been suffering for over a year now, and she probably felt all alone as well.

Snuggling underneath my blankets, I exhale and close my eyes, willing sleep to take me.

"ELENA! Gosh, only you would sleep in on your wedding day!"

Opening my eyes, I see the livid face of my mother peering down at me. I shoot up out of bed and run towards my floor-length mirror.

IT'S MY WEDDING TODAY AND I LOOK LIKE CRAP.

Heavy bags took up occupancy underneath my eyes, and my skin has lost its youthful pallor. I turn towards my mother, looking horrified. "I hope the make-up artist can work his magic, because I look like shit."

"Language, Elena! You are a lady now, soon to be a Dumont so you would need to act like one." My mother exclaims as she walks towards me, turning my face this way and that, "Did you not sleep last night?" she asks suddenly, a frown creasing her already taught skin.

I shake my head, "Wedding jitters, mother," I respond and she sighs, a smile crossing her face. "I understand. Elena, you do not know how strong you are for going through with this. Thank you."

Gosh, if I knew sacrificing my happiness and free will would get me my mother's respect and love, I would have done so long ago.

Not.

I give her a hug and sigh, "Let's get this show on the road, shall we?" I say, returning her smile and she nods. "Jean-Pierre and Sasha are downstairs waiting. I'll call them up when you're a bit more decent. Let's get you showered and into your corset and undergarments. A light breakfast will be brought up shortly."

Then my mother turns and strides out of the room. Ah. Is this how Eliana always used to get treated? My mother's love seems to shift whenever someone suits her needs. What a mom.

20 minutes later, I am showered and slathered in expensive oils and perfumes. My mother helps me into my corset and I force down my light fruit salad breakfast; the nerves are killing me slowly.

Sasha walks in first, frowning at my limp hair, "Elena! Have you been neglecting your hair and eating junk?!" She reprimands me and I cower at her fierceness. She was 1.55mm, blonde hair in a pixie cut and blue eyes shimmering with anger. She may be small, but gosh this woman was hellfire on two legs.

I nod then promise her to take better care of myself and tell her it was the stress from the past 2 months that was getting to me. She grudgingly accepts my excuse, then gets to work on my hair.

Two hours later, and my hair glowed and looked so much healthier: voluminous curls that were swooped to one side in a side path and jewelled hair clip pinned to the nape of my neck.

Staring in awe, I thank her, and she wraps me in a hug, wishing me well.

My mother then calls Jean-Pierre in, and he nearly faints at my bedroom door when he sees my complexion. He vigorously makes a checklist of the products I need to buy to bring my glow back, makeup and facial products included. My mother tells him to order them and have them sent over to Sebastian's villa within the week.

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