Apparently, the date was set.

Chuck lifted his shades above his eyes and looked at the headline of the New York Time's Society Column. Blair Waldorf and Nathaniel Archibald were to be married October 1st in a gradoise affair of extravagence and champagne. Well, it was mid-January already, and for New York's elite, to plan a marriage in less than a year was nothing short of shotgun. She must be desperate to confine that poor boy to his chains once and for all, he thought. He chuckled to himself, righting his shades on his nose and commissioned his driver back to the hotel. It had been two and a half months since he had seen Blair, alone, last. And she was a crude little bitch, he remembered vividly, smiling to himself. She had been underneath him, moaning his name over and over lost in the deep ecstasy of their lovemaking-sex. Lovemaking sounded far too romantic for a cheating tramp and unscrupulous "best friend." He had bitten her earlobe, just the way she liked as he whispered in her ear, his breath hot.

"Tell me..." Chuck had demanded domineeringly. "Tell me who feels better..."

She shook her head, losing her grip on reality. She couldnt admit something so private...

"Tell me," he asked again, his pace quickening, his hands sliding underneath her, lifting her deeper to him.

"You," she gasped before her waves of pleasures came quickly and strongly.

Afterwards, Chuck smugly smoked his cigarette.

"So tell me again how I feel..."

She hopped out of bed faster than he had a chance to blink. Blair grabbed a nearby pitcher of ice water and doused Chuck into it.

They cursed each other to high heaven and Chuck moved out of bed, grabbing her easily, pressing her to the wall, whispering sordid things to her...

Blair could feel herself wrapping around his finger and she shoved him away and quickly made her exit.

Chuck hadnt see the little minx in his bed since.

The bouquet was obscene. Blair stood in the foyer of her condo, hands on hips, and stared at the large bouquet in front of her. The scent made her sick. It sat and took most of the round table in front of her. It was vase filled with sunflowers, hideous and large. Blair was aghast, who would send such an ugly thing? She snatched the card that peeked through the mustard colored petals.

I just recieved word of your impending nuptials...

May your marriage continue with your current trend of honesty and integrity...

-C

Blair seethed, crushing the note into her fist and throwing it into the trash. Her mind flashed to the last time she was with Chuck, and she shut her eyes, shoving the images from her head. Chuck was a complete and utter lapse of judgment. He was a pariah even in his own circles, an ungentlemanly ogre out to create chaos and tension in his wake. But there was this strange pull...She had refused herself the luxury of thinking on Chuck during the last two or so months. She concentrated all her energy on Nate and on how to make him propose. And last week, it finally came to her, like a vision.

And after sitting a distracted Nathan down, she announced with a bright smile on her face, that she was pregnant.

Now, of course, she wasnt pregnant. She couldnt afford the weight gain, or the stretch marks. But a detail like that was negligible. She would wait til she was about 3 or 4 months in, and then dramatically announce that she'd had a miscarriage. Of course they would continue on with the marriage, it was the only suitable thing to do. She would be the best wife she could be. Her eyes flicked back at the flowers and she picked up her phone.

"Housekeeping? Yes. I need someone to get rid of these flowers..."

It was the party of the season. Blair had to pat herself on the back for creating such an exquisite engagement party with very little time to plan. Of course, it helped that her's and Nate's families were blue blooded and priveleged. Anything they could possibly want was theirs for the taking. So when Blair had her heart set on the Four Seasons in Manhattan for the setting of her menegerie, she used all her resources to make sure it happened.

The ballroom was perfect. Its high, vaulted ceilings and large open space was just what Blair had in mind for her party. Unfortunately, the day she planned for the gala, two weeks away on a Friday, the last week in January, was already booked for a wedding. In fact, the bride-to-be was surveying the ballroom for last minute preparations with two other women. Blair fanned herself. She was suffering from some bad shellfish the night prior, but she would have come off of her deathbed to be here. It was that important.

Blair stood, hand on hips, watching the women like a hawk. She turned to the manager who had assisted her questions and toured the area with her.

"I need this room."

The look of distress on his face would have been comical to Blair had she not been so impatiently infuriated.

"Ms. Waldorf, they've already paid the deposit...plans have been set..."

"Do I look like I care about something as trivial as a deposit? Or how a hoedown will surely be implemented into these," she sent a scathing look to the bride, "...plans."

"Of course not-"

"My mother will be severely displeased, as will my fiancee's father, Captain Archibald..."

The manager blanched, rendered speechless. These were integral members of Manhattan society, not the be crossed.

Blair smiled suddenly, sliding her arm around his.

"Im sure you can think of something," she said softly into his ear, sweetly. "Im sure arrangements could be made as well as triple the deposit fare. And Im sure you're well aware, my party is front page society news. The publicity for the Four Seaons would be through the roof. We wouldnt want say, another prestegious hotel to upstage and replace the Four Seasons as the place to stay, now would we?" She smiled again, tightening her grip on his arm.

Blair always got her way.