ONE

The Assistant

Church bells ring like two hearts pounding on their wedding day. The rings sound joyous and violent at the same time—sound half scared half happy. It's a lot like love. But for today, the church bells feel like they're ringing for a funeral.

I'm inside a church wearing my tux. The congregation comprises of the people whose faces I've never seen before. I don't know who I am waiting for. All I know is that it's my wedding day and I am waiting for my bride.

The orchestra screams a song and it echoes in the hallways of the baroque vicinity. I don't know the song but I didn't like the sound of it. The song is angry and I scream for it to stop. I cover my ears when the song continues. The song turns into a scream and it hurts too much. I swear it can make my ears bleed.

And there she is: my bride walking down the aisle. Her face is underneath the veil as she marches down the aisle. Even when she's around, the entire guests are all looking at me. Their faces are gray and their eyes unblinking and piercing right into my soul. My bride comes nearer and nearer until . . .

"AHHHH!"

She screams on top of her lungs louder than the orchestra. Her wedding dress turns to red, covered in the darkest crimson red. She levitates and wraps her hands around my neck. I try to stop her.

"S-stop," I can barely speak.

She asphyxiates me as she continues to scream words I can't understand. Air is almost gone, I—I can't grasp. I try to reach out and take off her veil so I can see her face but she disappears. Everything disappears.

I wake up.

Just like all the previous nights, I sit up immediately and breathe rapidly in and out. In and out. I check my alarm and it's only three in the morning. My chest heaves from the fear of the dream. My hands check my neck and I am relieved that her glove-clad hands are not wrapped around it anymore.

I've been dreaming about her for years now but not this often. She almost comes to my dreams almost every single night.

Shaking my head, I stand up and head towards the washroom. "It's just a nightmare, Christian. Get a hold of yourself," I mutter as I bend to wash my face. Once I'm done, I reach out for the face towel and rub it in my face. I inhale deeply and try to get my thoughts off that dream. When I toss my face towel aside, I look at the mirror and screamed on top of my lungs.

Right behind me is the bride. The same bride.

I don't see her face but I know she's looking at me. I know that her eyes are dark and she wants to kill me. I shut my eyes too tight and tell myself that I'll be okay.

It's okay.

It's okay.

I'll be okay.

Just when I think I could not escape her anymore, I wake up finally. I wake up . . . for real.

-A Kiss in the Wind-

While Taylor drives on the way to my office, I keep pacing back and forth at the back of the car. My forehead rests against the palm of my hands as my head can't simply forget the repetitive dreams that I've had.

It's always the same. When I dream about the bride, it is in the same baroque church I have never been to. Sometimes there is a congregation and sometimes there's none. Regardless of the audience and the changing of the songs, the ending of the dream is always about the bride strangling me.

But why? Who is the bride?

From the looks of it, she's not born during my time. For one, her dress looked outdated. In my dreams she wore the same gown—the ones they wore before the start of the civil war. The gown had a low neckline and the bodice was tight and corseted. It's finished with an accentuated triangle and skirt. Her sleeves were opened and the silhouette was high volume. The bridal wreath and veil perfectly complimented her gown, but it frustrated me that I couldn't see her face.

Maybe I shouldn't mind such nightmares, but what if she has something to do with . . . the curse?

I sighed deeply at that thought.

At the age of twenty-five, I had made an empire of my own. I am a CEO of Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc. and among all of my achievements, people bothered most about my romantic life. Rumor has it I am gay and I lost my way in the closet. Some say I am a playboy. While some say I am secretly married. The truth is I stop myself from entering into relationships. The way I see it, there are only two roads for a couple: the road to break-up and the road to marriage. And Marriage is the horror word.

Ever since I can remember I have been told that all brides of Grey men die on their wedding day except my mother because my father never married her. My father doesn't believe in the curse, he just doesn't believe in marriage.

Well, it has been a familial folklore than for centuries, all women who marry the Greys die on the wedding day. It doesn't matter if it's before or after the 'I Do's'. The brides and it's always because of a man who just shows up randomly.

For hundreds of years it has been that way. If my family know that this is the curse, why do they still risk it? Love? That's stupid. We always mistaken our stupidity for love.

Well, it won't happen to me. I will make sure that no woman ever dies in her wedding because of me. I know the curse is real but what I want to know if she has something to do with it.

"We're here, Mr. Grey," Taylor interrupts my thoughts.

I fix my charcoal suit before stepping out of my Lexus.

- A Kiss in the Wind -

It's another busy day in the office as our competitors have been chasing our performance again. We've been strategically planning out new steps in order to take on whatever tycoon we're up against.

"Good morning, Mr. Grey," Andrea, my receptionist greets.

I give her a simple nod and smile.

She tells me, "Sir, your schedule is with your new assistant. HR asked her to report at eight but she's been here since six, and mind you she completed all the works all night. I think she's a good substitute for Leila."

"Really? That's impressive. Where is she?"

"Inside your office, Sir."

I thank Andrea for giving her the information before I head inside my office.

Leila Williams-Rodriguez has been my assistant for four years and she's not even that diligent when it comes to work. I keep her because she has the brains and she's a good friend. I have to let her go for six months though since she took a sabbatical off to focus on her newborn baby. She and her husband, Jose must be so happy now and it's cool. Their kid is my godchild and he is a sweetheart.

I enter my office and my new assistant sits right there on the white leather couch.

"Good morning, Mr. Grey."

My eyes widen at the sight of her in front of me. Wait, Anastasia Rose Steele is my temporary assistant?

"Ana, good morning."

"Ana?" She whispers her name as if she's shocked that I still remember her from high school.

"Yes, Miss Steele," my voice sounds uncertain.

"Oh no, just call me Ana, Mr. Grey. At least it's not Freak," her voice sounds too little and I frustratingly sigh at that.

"I never called you that before," I tell her.

"I know," she smiles with such strong sense of gratitude in her eyes.

Honestly, I feel bad for this woman. When we were in high school, the entire student body labelled her as The Freak. She constantly screams at nothing and we see her running away from something we can't see. There was this one time she didn't go to school for two weeks because of a scary movie thing inside the classroom. Well, they all say it's her way for getting attention since she's raised by her uncle and aunt who couldn't care less about her.

As for me, I refused to believe in anything.

I shake my high school memories away as I remember that there are still a lot of things to do in work.

"Ana, thank you for your efforts this morning."

"Yeah, uhm . . . the HR gave me a folder about my to-do list and I made sure to get you all the things you need for today. Oh, and your schedule is on your table."

"That's great! Appreciate it."

I walk to my desk and finally take a seat to start my day.

"Mr. Grey, anything you want me to do aside from sending out emails to clients?"

"Can you please do my speech for an upcoming graduation ceremony?"

"Your speech? I thought Leila doesn't do your speech and you hire someone to do it."

"Well, you're not editor of the school paper if you can't write, right?"

A smile slowly forms in her face after I tell her about that. We used to be close and, in those times, she was only in Freshmen year but became an editor for the school paper.

"Okay, Mr. Grey," she tells me.

"Christian, just call me Christian. It's not like we don't have history together."

For some reason, she nods with an odd expression about that before uttering my name.

I don't let my assistants call me by my first name, but Ana and I have known each other since high school. I have these thoughts and guilt feelings that I want to get rid of and if I let her call me Mr. Grey or Sir, then that makes me feel worse.

I give her an awkward smile before opening my Macbook to start checking on reports and to video conference to my business partners. Two minutes have passed and I raise my brows. Why is Ana still here?

She stands motionless and she doesn't even look like she's breathing. She's staring at something. It's not me but something behind me. I look back and nothing's there—just the cream wall.

"Ana, what's going on?"

She's still gazing at the wall.

"Ana?"

She quickly snaps and shakes her head.

"Nothing, Christian. Nothing," she says before leaving my office.

I nod unconvinced.

There goes the first chapter of the story. We will know more about Ana and Christian's high school life as the story unravels.

Thank you for reading the first chapter.