A/N: Well, hello everybody! :D I'm back with another story! To any of my current readers, I apologize for taking the time to work on this instead of updating my current stories...but the thing is, this story has a deadline. I'm participating in tangledcharm's Christmas writing competition, and all the participants were assigned a song to base their story off of. My song is "Santa Baby" by Marilyn Monroe/all the other people who have done covers for it. So this is the story I have come up with, and it is due on the 24th of December. It's going to be several chapters, so I hope everyone enjoys it and tags along for the ride. :)

If you don't understand how this story fits in with the song...well, go look up the lyrics. And if you don't feel like it, that's okay too. Just sit back and enjoy the story, because you don't really have to understand the song (or my creative interpretation) to enjoy this story (I hope).

This story will basically be pretty Hallmark. I love Hallmark movies, and I've been watching a lot of them lately, so I've become super inspired. Not that my romantic-ness needs any inspiration. :3 But anyways, you've been warned. If you don't like Hallmark, this might not be the story for you.

Chapter One - The High Life

The beautiful young woman sat on the cushioned window seat, staring contemplatively out into the rainy streets of London. She watched with her chin cupped in her palm as the raindrops streaked silently down the windowpane, the gray sky matching her mood. A soft sigh escaped her rosy lips.

In the background, she heard the clock tower chime the hour. Shaking herself from her gloomy trance, the woman looked up and realized that he would be home soon. Her fiancé.

With a nervous hand, she smoothed down her scarlet tresses and stood up just as she saw the familiar black Bugatti pull up to the curb of their townhome. She hurried to the mirror on their mantel to make sure that she looked as radiant and beautiful as he expected. His footsteps sounded as he climbed the steps to the porch and approached the door. Before he could knock, their butler opened the door and bowed his head in acknowledgement as the large business executive swept into the house.

As the door clicked shut behind him, the woman rushed forward to help him out of his coat. "Welcome home, dear," she said sweetly, a smile plastered to her face.

"Erza," he said by way of greeting. No further words passed between the two as Erza hung his coat in the coat room and her fiancé strolled into the sitting room to light his cigar.

As was expected of her, the young woman quietly joined him in the parlor, taking up her needlework from the bench she'd placed it on earlier that afternoon. As the butler started a fire in the hearth, the enormous businessman picked up a newspaper and continued puffing on his cigar.

Knowing better than to address him without invitation, Erza kept quietly to herself on her chair as the sounds from the kitchen staff preparing dinner carried into the room. Jiemma's been unusually preoccupied of late, she thought to herself, sneaking a glance at the large, muscular man on the other side of the room. I mean, he's always distant…but this seems a little extreme, even for him. I wonder if something happened at work…?

"Erza, will you be a dear and play for me?" Jiemma asked in an authoritative tone, interrupting her musings without so much as a glance in her direction.

"Certainly, dear." Setting her embroidery to the side, the scarlet-haired beauty stood and moved to the elegant pianoforte at Jiemma's side. Taking her seat, she allowed her eyes to slip shut as she placed her long fingers on the ivory keys.

As she coaxed the sweet melody from the instrument, Erza began to relax. Playing the piano was one of the few bright points in her life these days, and it refreshed her mind when little else could.

Three months ago to the day, Erza's life had been handed over to the man who now sat in the chair beside her. She had gone from an ordinary middle class girl to the betrothed of a wealthy older man overnight. He could have had his pick from any of the girls in town, but her exotic, angelic looks had endeared her to him from the moment he had set eyes on her. It was both her blessing and her curse.

Scenes from that night flashed across her mind as her fingers flew. She'd been working as a waitress in a coffee shop downtown, and Jiemma had become a regular every morning since she'd begun working. She'd been slightly unnerved by the way his steely stare had followed her every movement, but she'd assumed that nothing foul could come of it. Until the day her father had come home and told her that he had been approached by the wealthy aristocrat with a request for his daughter's hand in marriage. Oh, how she'd raged against such an arrangement. But nothing could be done, because her father had already given his consent. How Jiemma had found her father in the first place was beyond her, but the technicalities didn't matter much in the face of such a game-changer. Nothing she said or did could convince her father to rescind his acceptance. Her mother had been on Erza's side, but her father would hear none of it, insisting that this was the only way for their family to rise in the world. That night had been the only time in Erza's life when her father had struck her, and after that, she didn't dare complain.

The very next day, Jiemma had begun courting her, and not long after that, he had taken her away to this house to wait for their wedding day. She knew very well that the only reason he was marrying her was because she was young and beautiful. He already had the money, and all he needed was an arm accessory and a healthy, beautiful young wife to bear his children.

Erza suppressed a shudder as she put the thought from her mind. She still had another month until their wedding night, and unless he decided to act before then, she needn't worry about children until then. Sometimes, in the dark of the night, she would imagine herself elsewhere, leading a different life. She would come up with escape plans that would take her far, far away from this life, perhaps to Spain. Nineteen was far too young to have your life ripped from you, and Erza felt exactly that—that her life had been ripped from her.

But she knew that these were idle fantasies, nothing more. She was doomed to be kept in a cage, showered with wealth but denied love.

"Tomorrow you will go buy yourself a suitable evening gown and accessories." Jiemma's voice interrupted her brooding, causing her to open her eyes and look over at him. Her fingers never stilled, though her mind was now far from her piano-playing.

"As you wish, dear. Might I ask what the occasion is?"

Jiemma glanced over at his young fiancée, his bushy white eyebrows drawn low over his eyes. His cigar dangled from his lips as he spoke. It was a wonder he didn't catch his long white beard on fire. "We are going to a business party tomorrow evening. Many new up-and-coming entrepreneurs and executives will be present, so you are to look your best when I introduce my fiancée for the first time."

Erza nodded her understanding, murmuring, "Yes, sir."

Satisfied, Jiemma turned away and resumed reading his paper without further acknowledgment of Erza's presence. It was quite alright with the young woman, though; she was too lost in her thoughts to pay any attention to the older man, either.

This is going to be my life from now on, she thought. Steeling her resolve, she determined to make the most of her situation. At least she would never be at a loss for material wants ever again.

Erza's eyes nearly bugged out of her skull as she looked around at all the price tags. She was standing in the dressing room of an elite designer store, surrounded by more expensive dresses than she had ever seen before in her life. Not for the first time, she felt a little lightheaded as she realized that this kind of money was hers for the spending from now on.

"Mistress Erza, do you require assistance?" the maid's voice called from the other side of Erza's door.

"Ah, no thank you, Laki." Snapping out of her daze, Erza quickly sorted through the dresses and found her favorite. It was a tight gold mermaid-style gown, flaring out just below her hips to swirl gracefully around her legs in layers of ruffles and pleats. It had a halter top with a plunging neckline, leaving half of her back exposed. The silky top of the dress was embellished by gorgeous swirling patterns and rhinestones placed at the join of dress and cleavage. A beautiful thing, it hugged Erza's ample curves and offset her milky skin and scarlet hair beautifully. Paired with the right accessories, it would make her look just like all the other well-bred socialites who would be in attendance.

Carefully hanging all the other dresses up on the rack inside the stall, Erza tucked the gold dress under her arm and stepped out to join Laki. The lavender-haired maid nodded in approval at her choice, and they proceeded to purchase the dress and head to the next store to look for a pair of shoes. Several hours and stores later, the pair stood in line at Tiffany's to buy dangly gold earrings and matching gold cuff bracelets. As Erza shifted to reach into her purse, she realized that her wallet was gone. Panic seized her as she whipped the purse from her shoulder, rifling through it again in case she had missed it the first time. However, the second search turned up no results either. Shaking with trepidation, Erza ran through a list of places where she could have left it. She hadn't taken it out in any of the dressing rooms, and she could clearly remember having it with her at the last store to pay for the pocketbook. Perhaps she had left the wallet on the counter after paying? Praying that she would find it just where she had left it, Erza turned apologetically to Laki.

"I think I left my wallet in the last store. Stay here and wait in line for me; I'll be right back."

Passing off the jewelry to the maid, Erza clasped her purse strap and hurried from the store, out into the bustle of other shoppers making their way through the mall. Not for the first time, she wished she wasn't wearing skintight jeans and high-heeled boots. This would be a lot easier if I could go back to wearing combat boots and comfortable clothes, she thought mournfully.

As Erza approached the department store that hopefully contained her missing wallet, she noticed a commotion by the door. Slowing to get through the congestion, Erza happened to glance up and meet a pair of chocolate brown eyes. Her heart stopped for a beat as she took in the rest of the person. Stylishly messy blue hair framed a youthful, angular face. Broad shoulders filled out a sleek black overcoat, which was worn open so that Erza could glimpse the crisp white dress shirt that hugged his muscular chest.

A slight smirk of appreciation touched his perfect lips as he assessed her in a similar manner. Erza flushed as she became suddenly conscious of her clingy white blouse and lacy burgundy cardigan. She knew that she filled out her shirt and jeans quite fully, since her figure was slender but extremely curvaceous. And while she knew that, as an engaged woman, she should feel more modest about her assets, she couldn't resist the small feeling of satisfaction that came from seeing this incredibly attractive man look at her in such a way.

Erza shifted on her black leather boots, prepared to continue walking into the store. However, the ring of women standing between her and the mysteriously alluring stranger suddenly shifted, letting a gap open up before her. Her eyes locked on the black wallet held in the man's hand and her lips parted in surprise and recognition. She subconsciously reached for the wallet, focused only on retrieving her newly-found belonging.

The man noticed her attentions, and cut effortlessly through the crowd to stand before Erza. "Is this yours, madam?" His voice was deep and rich, with just the perfect amount of mystery to leave her feeling like her insides were melting into a puddle.

Erza cleared her throat and made herself meet the man's eyes. "Yes. Thank you for finding it, sir." Her voice sounded bolder and slightly more flirtatious than she'd intended. Already, the other women were shooting her nasty glares as they either skulked away or lurked around waiting for the man to finish speaking with Erza.

She reached her hand out to claim the wallet, but, to her surprise, the man drew it away from her with a small smile. "How will I know that this is truly yours?" As he spoke, he opened the wallet and glanced down at the picture of Erza that was visible on her license. "Erza Scarlet," he murmured, glancing back up at me from under his dark eyelashes. "Well, this is undoubtedly your picture," he noted with an amused tone in his voice.

A faint blush tinged her cheeks pink, and she hated to admit that the way he said her name made her stomach churn with nerves and excitement. "Yes, that is me. Are you satisfied that this is my wallet?"

After a long moment of staring at her, he closed the wallet and extended it to her. "Yes. I am." Their fingers brushed as Erza brought her hand up to accept the proffered wallet, and the simple touch sent a bolt of electricity through her veins.

Her voice sounded slightly breathy in her ears as she thanked him again. He dipped his head gracefully in a farewell, and Erza felt his stare on her back as she made her way toward Tiffany's. As she glanced down at her wristwatch, she was shocked to see that only ten minutes had passed since she had left in search of the wallet. The interaction with the mysterious man had seemed to last for an eternity as she'd stared into his captivating eyes.

Once Erza had joined Laki in line and finished paying for her purchases, she allowed her mind to wander. The feeling she had gotten from that brief interaction with that man was one Erza had never experienced before. It had left her breathless and warm all over. And that seemingly electric touch….

"Are you feeling well, Miss Erza?" Laki asked as they were walking out to Erza's baby blue convertible.

Realizing that Laki had been trying to tell her something, Erza snapped back to the present. "Oh, sorry. Yes. I'm just a bit tired is all."

Laki nodded in sympathy and adjusted the bags in her arms to a more comfortable position. Erza had offered to help carry them, but the maid had nearly had a fit at the impropriety of such a suggestion. The red-haired woman sighed to herself as she realized that she could kiss her chances for normalcy goodbye. "Hang in there, Miss, and you will be able to rest for a few hours before the gala."

Erza smiled wanly at the other woman, and then they were at her car, which had been an engagement gift from Jiemma. He had showered her with lavish "tokens of love," everything from platinum jewelry to silk gowns to hard cash. She was actually dreading the upcoming Christmas holiday, as he would no doubt find even more extravagant gifts to pile on her. After all, the wife of a wealthy businessman must look the part.

Erza knew she should be happy to have such expensive possessions—her parents had reminded her of this incessantly—but she couldn't help but think that every present tied her even more to the horrid old man. Is this really to be my life? Kept in a platinum cage, made to garnish Jiemma's reputation and image like a decoration? No, I'm not even in a cage. I'm free to fly away, only to find that my wings are clipped.

The slate grey sky began its near perpetual drizzle as Erza drove her car through town to Jiemma's townhouse. The slush that lined the streets—a mix of rain and snow—was stained with oil and asphalt from the passing cars. It reminded Erza of her life now—tainted. Even after three months, she still couldn't reconcile herself to the fact that she would soon be Mrs. Jiemma Orlando. Just the thought of it made her stomach churn with bile.

Pleading exhaustion, Erza retreated to her room upon arriving at the house. There, she flopped down on the bed and stared morosely at the ceiling. As she let the blessed solitude sink in, she allowed her eyes to slip shut as her mind wandered again. This time, it traveled a more pleasant path as the image of the blue-haired young man fluttered to her mind. There had been a magnetic spark between them; Erza had felt it, and she couldn't deny it. Perhaps, in another life, they could have met up again, maybe at a café, and sat down to have coffee together. Maybe they would have started dating and fallen in love. They could have gone on to marry and live a blissful life together.

The what-ifs and could-have-beens were killing her. Erza rolled onto her side and hugged her knees to her chest. Even if she did ever fall in love with someone she wouldn't be free to act on it, because she was bound to Jiemma with no foreseeable escape.

This can't be my life. I will not allow him to dictate every aspect of my life! He may have my hand—he may even have my loyalty—but he will never have my love.

Anger began a slow boil in Erza's heart as she continued to think. I've been nothing but faithful. Think of all the fun I've missed out on since he entered my life. Think of all the boys that I haven't looked twice at because I'm engaged to this old pervert! I'm nineteen, for heaven's sake! I should be out dating and partying with friends.

Her heart longed for freedom, and the courage to find love with someone else despite her status as Jiemma's bride-to-be. But she knew that as long as Jiemma continued sending her family money, she would remain faithful to him. She couldn't allow anything to risk her family's wellbeing, even if it meant sacrificing herself to keep Jiemma happy.

The ride to the hotel where the party was being held was thick with tension. From the moment Jiemma had seen Erza descending the stairs in her gorgeous new gown, he had looked at her differently. The only thing he had said to her was, "That will do nicely. Come here, my bride. You will be the crown jewel at the party tonight." There had been a lustful light in his eyes as he'd watched the way her body moved, and his hand had casually brushed across her hip as he'd helped her into the car. Erza's skin was crawling at the thought that Jiemma might try to make a move tonight. And if he did, she didn't know what she would do.

She worked on keeping her breathing even as she focused on the road ahead of them, even though Jiemma was the one driving. He would occasionally look over at her, but she pretended not to notice.

It seemed a blessing in disguise when they finally arrived at the hotel. A valet stepped up to park their car as they disembarked, Jiemma coming around to take the younger woman's hand. The chilly winter air bit into her skin, even through the coat she wore over her dress. It was a relief when they stepped through the doors into the large, elegant foyer and were immediately surrounded by the heat. A waiter came over and took their coats as he offered them champaign. Erza would have refused, but Jiemma insisted that she indulge that night.

Trepidation stole over her as she wondered why he would want her to drink. Visions of him trying to take advantage of her while she was drunk flitted across her mind, and she stared at the champaign balefully. She would take one sip, and that was all.

As they were escorted into the ballroom, Erza looked around in amazement. The décor was so exquisite and extravagant that she felt as though she had stumbled into a fairy tale. The only thing missing was Prince Charming….

She could feel everyone's stares on her as she walked arm-in-arm with Jiemma. She could practically hear their thoughts—"Who is this beautiful young woman on his arm?" "Has Mr. Orlando gotten married?" "Why did he pick her?"

To distract herself from the throng of brightly-dressed socialites milling about the floor, Erza focused on the architecture and decorations. The ballroom was a spacious room with marble floors, marble pillars spread along the walls, and several balconies leading out onto softly illuminated terraces partially concealed behind velvet drapes. Looking up, Erza noticed the crystal chandeliers casting light on the revelry. Off to the side, a long table covered by a lacy white cloth held platters of food and drinks. Everywhere she looked, silk, chiffon, and precious metals and stones met her eyes. Despite her appearance, Erza felt incredibly out of her league.

Without breaking stride, Jiemma led her around the dance floor, introducing her to various old people with the scent of old money. "Allow me to introduce my fiancée, Erza Scarlet."

"How enchanting," one old aristocrat said as he took her hand in his and brought it to his lips. "Wherever did you find such a rare gem?"

Erza didn't miss the pleased look on Jiemma's face as he possessively tucked her against his side. "Now now, Precht, you can't reasonably expect me to reveal my secrets."

Erza's blood ran cold as she realized that she really was nothing more than a possession to these people. This is the life my father sold me into, she though bitterly.

She tuned the two out for a while, smiling politely whenever their gaze strayed to her. It wasn't until they leaned closer together and lowered their voices that Erza tuned back in.

"…he's here. Tread carefully, Jiemma," Precht warned. "He may be young, but he's mercenary. He knows just how to play his cards to get people to back him, and if you don't convince them first, they'll give away their support to him."

Jiemma's face darkened. "I will never allow that Fernandes brat to get the better of me on this transaction."

Precht nodded in satisfaction. "Good. You know I will always back you. Now go out and garner as much support as you can." Turning to Erza again, the other white-haired man nodded politely. "It was delightful to make your acquaintance, Madam."

"Likewise," Erza murmured, bowing her own head.

Jiemma continued to lead her around the room, stopping here and there to socialize with various people. He seemed to be in an increasingly good mood, and kept the champaign flowing freely. If he noticed that Erza hadn't taken more than a sip from her first flute, he didn't show it.

They were just turning from a middle-aged couple who had pledged to support Jiemma when someone bumped into them from the side. Irritated, Jiemma turned to see who the miscreant was. Erza was alarmed to see his irritation immediately burst into fury and hatred, so she turned to try to understand what had caused his sudden change in demeanor. What she saw made her breath catch in her throat.

The small, mousy man who had stumbled into Jiemma apologized as he scurried away. But he wasn't the one who had caught Jiemma's attention and made Erza gasp softly. Just beyond him, a small crowd of people had gathered around an attractive middle-aged man. He was dressed smartly in an impeccable grey suit, his white collar showing crisply above his lapels. He was surprisingly muscular for his age—probably his fifties—and seemed to be a dominant male in the crowd. But the thing that had made Erza's heart stop for a moment was the resemblance he bore to the young man she had seen earlier that day in the mall. While this man's hair was black with silver streaks and close-cropped, they had similar features and the same dark eyes.

Eyes that suddenly turned on Erza and pinned her with a steely stare.

A/N: Well, that's the first chapter! The second should hopefully not be long in coming... Feel free to let me know in a review what you think of this story so far! Unless it's to complain about OOC-ness. Because yes, I am very aware that they are out of character. :P But hey, that's the beauty of fanfiction.

Anyways, please review, favorite and follow! :D Thank you, everyone!