No one dared to speak. There was only silence. Danas was even so scared when she sat with the man she was with. Danas's body stiffened with her hands clenched tightly.
"Don't embarrass me, today we will have dinner with my client. You need to change clothes."
“I-I—”
"I hate rejection, my words are orders." Regan interrupted.
Now Danas didn't want to argue anymore. Everything she wanted to say, Regan wouldn't hear. The man beside her was so intimidating. She wanted to ask what wrong she had done and who she had killed, but she was never allowed to speak.
Kkkrrr…
Danas held her stomach. There was a sound that shouldn't have been heard. Since this morning, she did not have breakfast because he had to rush to campus.
“Humph!” Regan heard that and sighed. "Let's stop at the restaurant first," Regan said.
"Yes Mr."
"This is Mr. Rajon. He will take you to campus and also pick you up back home. I can't let you take a taxi, if my client saw me, I could be embarrassed. The wife of a Regan Mahameru takes a taxi, and you should also change your clothes. I see all your clothes are not branded."
"But everything is still new."
Regan glared at Danas, making her only lower her head. Regan's Hazel eyes were very intimidating. Like it or not, she had to follow what her husband said.
Before going to the boutique, they first stop to eat, and after that, they continue their journey to the boutique.
Now they stopped at a boutique. Showing some of the clothes displayed in the shop window with a white card, of course, Danas knew who the boutique owner was. One of the famous designers.
Danas walked beside Regan with a downcast face. When they had just arrived at the boutique, a man greeted them with a surprise to see their arrival.
"Oh My God, who is coming to my little place," said the man. “Is there anything I can help you with? You want to order more clothes? Or, do you want me to make a new suit again?” asked the man while acting spoiled in front of Regan.
He was wearing a salmon-coloured shirt, one tucked into his jeans, while the rest was left untouched. A scarf wrapped around her neck, eyelashes curled, and the lip gloss she was wearing—Mike Dasson.
“Shut up, Mike. I want you to make him look better than his current style," Regan pointed at Danas.
“Shh. Not Mike, but Mika," he pouted, then looked at Danas beside Regan. “Ah, sorry. I didn't see you,” said the man as he approached Danas.
The man watched her from the toe to the tip of the hair.
“Hmmm. What's wrong with him? The clothes are stylish, the fashion is okay. I like it, not tacky," commented Mike.
“I can't possibly take her to a party dressed like that, I'll leave her to you. Don't make me wait long, you know I hate waiting."
"Fine, leave it to me," he said as he pulled Danas into the room.
Before making over Danas, Mike stood still while supporting her chin, looking at Danas standing before her.
"Turn around," said Mike while giving a signal using his hand. Danas followed suit.
"Try to straighten your face. I want to see."
When Danas straightened her eyes, the man in front of him widened her eyes.
"Oh My God," screamed Mike. "Let me take a closer look at your face," Mike said as she approached Danas.
“I-I've never had a customer with a naturally beautiful face like you, what treatment products do you use? Please tell me."
The man lifted Danas's face with the tip of his index finger, then turned it left and right.
Danas shook her head.
“Hey, don't be stingy. Tell me, why is your skin like that—Arggh, it just makes me jealous.”
“Erm. T-that—”
"Do you want to tell me?"
“No, I mean. If you stay silent like that, Regan will—”
“Oh my. I forgot, he can get angry if he is made to wait too long," said Mike, pulling Danas' arm and then making her sit on the dressing table.
Now Danas could see himself in the mirror. Some make-up equipment in front of him. This week, she was dressed by someone else. Even though she was uncomfortable, she still sat quietly and waited for herself to finish her make-up.
"Your face is already beautiful, if you add thick make up it will make you look old. So, I won't dress you for long, just a few touches of my hand, Mr. Regan will definitely be amazed to see you," said Mike, lifting Danas' chin while he was behind the girl.
"Don't lower your head, your beauty must be shown to people," said Mike, smiling. “Don't be afraid, I will make everyone look at you. Don't worry, I will make everyone hypnotized by your beauty."
“I-I–”
"Why? Tell me if you don't like my makeup."
"Not that."
"I am your fan."
Mike suddenly fell silent when Danas said that the girl was his fan.
"Is it true?"
Danas nodded slowly. "I-I'm studying designer, and I-"
The man smiled. “Erm. But what is your relationship with Mr. Regan? I was curious, until he asked to dress you pretty."
“Erm. T-that—”
"Are you his new girlfriend?"
"No ... no ... I'm not his girlfriend, I'm his wife," answered Danas, denying that he let slip who she was.
"Y-you're his wife? S-so, Regan didn't marry that brat? But, thank goodness it wasn't that girl who married Mr. Regan, but you if it wasn't in vain that I made the wedding dress with all my love."
Danas looked at the man behind him from the mirror. The man smiled at her.
"Regan is lucky to be married to you, I know you are the right woman for him, and I'm sure you will be the happiest family, Mr. Regan, the dream of women, while you are a beautiful woman."
Danas forced a smile. How will they have a happy family if that man mistreats her?
"Wait ... wait, I think I know a dress that suits you, wait a minute here. I'll be back in a few minutes," said Mike as he walked backwards, then disappeared behind a glass.
Danas massaged the back of his neck, which was tense, then tried to stretch his body which had been sitting up. She touched her face and smiled, and then her smile faded as something crossed her mind.
"Why does my face make him hate while there is him at the bottom of my heart," she muttered softly.
Her eyes were now glistening with tears. Tears could not be avoided flowing down her cheeks. Her heart constricted instantly when she remembered what Regan had done to her—to her family.
“Why did God prepare all this for me? Why did he become my husband, if in fact it was not the love and affection that I received. My heart—"