When I opened my eyes, I was lying down on Momma's bed, she sitting down on said bed beside me as she was placing a damp washcloth on my forehead as Marcia, Clarissa, and Grandma Mauretta looked on. "Tell me it's not true," I said, groaning as I sat up. "Tell me that my dratted sister and her friend didn't sell me to a playboy."

"Unfortunately for you, she did," Marcia said flatly. "I don't know whether to laugh or cry at all this."

"If I were Jarvis, I'd kill Bernice with a chainsaw and a crossbow," Clarissa said. "Hell, I'd bury her in the backyard."

"Screw that," Momma said, taking the washcloth off my forehead. "We have a meat grinder so I can easily turn my daughter into beef patties."

"Marcia, is Janelle's lawyer dad looking at the contract my sister and Samantha supposedly signed?" I asked, knowing that Mr. Franklin, the no-nonsense lawyer and Momma's favorite customer, could easily negate a marriage contract in minutes.

"He is, and unfortunately there's no way around it," Yavier said as he came into the bedroom. "Dad said that this cousin is as legit and bulletproof as it comes. If you want to save Firebird Bakery as well as your home, you got to be married to Mr. Saint Croix and stay with him until death do you two part. Dad said that there's no loophole at all. Not even Houdini can get out of it!"

"I was afraid of that," I said. "Momma, why the hell did Bernice have to be born evil?"

"Jarvis, your guess is a good as mine," she said. "If I had my way, you'd be born first and since I know that you got a good head on your shoulders, I'd have less to worry about. But that's how life works, I'm afraid." She rubbed my back soothingly. "Baby, if you want, we can fight this all the way to court."

I shook my head no. "If there's no way out of it, then I got to see this through to the end," I replied. "I need to talk to Mr. Saint Croix about my arrangements. He does know that I still got school to go to. And I can't be denied of college."

"Don't worry, my Nubian emerald. I'll make sure that you're taken care of," said the familiar voice.

Mom and I turned around to see the young wealthy businessman, his shirtsleeves rolled up as he sauntered towards me. "I heard that you got plans to go to school and be a fashion designer, but since I'm very wealthy, I can make sure that you'll be tutored under the best teachers. You'll need no need of school or college."

He sat down beside me on the left, looking at my mother. "Can you all give us some privacy?"

"Only if one of his friends stay with him," my mother said firmly. "You may be his fiancé, but my sons' virtue will remain intact until you say your vows." She looked at Marcia. "Can you stay with my son?"

"Gladly," Marcia said as she accepted a plate of Grandma Mauretta's famous oatmeal cookies from the elderly woman and a platter of Momma's signature chocolate berry muffins for me.

As Momma and Clarissa left the room, Armand took out a familiar light blue box. "Jarvis, my pet, I want to make sure that we do this properly," he purred, opening it to reveal a stunning engagement ring decorated with sapphires and diamonds, a giant diamond solitaire in the middle of the silver band. "Will you be my husband and forever Sub?"

I looked at Marcia, who looked blown away at the exquisite jewelry. "Wow," was all she could say.

I turned back to Armand. "Might as well," I said. "I will."

The look on Armand's face was feral. "Ah, my midnight beauty, you make me so happy," he crooned, slipping the ring on my right ring finger. "I will woo you out of your clothes, make you moan with passion, and have you chanting my name on our wedding night. I cannot wait to make your body sing for me."

"Poetic much?" I said, appalled at his choice of words.

"You just need to have a few changes regarding your makeover," he replied. "My friend Dominic told me about what happened regarding your sister's jealousy over your beauty and how she and her friend made you dress in shabby clothing so they would remain the fairest in the land. If only they knew that true beauty reflects the outside. There are gorgeous, yes, but they have ugly hearts. You have a nice body, love, and a magnificent face. It's time you show it off."

The way he said it had me floored. I do admit that I had a nice body and I could admit that my best features are my eyes and lips. My skin was devoid of acne (I had my mother's good genes) and I kept my body fit by swimming and being on the community swim team over the summer. Despite my sister and Samantha's attempts to keep me mousy and plain, I still got a few compliments. One guy told me that I could be a model. An elderly couple said that I could grace the movie screen. And even a bold football player said that he'd fuck me if it wasn't for his girlfriend. Silently, however, I had some low-esteem issues because of Bernie's insults and the beatings I got from her goons.

But how Armand saw me? Wow. I never expected him to be so blunt and explicit at once. And 'make my body sing for him'? Who on earth says that these days? Well, he is a billionaire so he's entitled to have a few wacky thoughts in his head.

"I'm not too sure if I'm that easy to be wooed over, Mr. Saint Croix," I said. "I can be very abrupt and stubborn. It'll have to take a lot of power to win my heart."

We'll see about that, I thought silently. We will see about that, indeed.

.............

"So?" Bernice said as Armand and I came down the stairs and arrived in the living room where she, Mom, Uncle Daniel, my grandparents, and the Saint Croix family were waiting.

"It's official," I said quietly, "we're getting married." I help up the sparkly engagement and showed it off to Mom and Grandma, who oohed and cooed as the took in the sparkling gemstones.

"My baby got a good taste," Mom said proudly. "And you really don't have to do this."

"He shouldn't," Bernice said. "As I said, Jarvis is destined to be a spinster and take care of me, unless he plans to marry Sammy. No one in their right mind would ever want to date an ugly duckling, let alone marry."

"Would you rather let Mom live on the streets?" I shot back, glaring at my sister."

"Better that than being a fag," she said. "If you just listened to me and dated Samantha, you wouldn't have to deal with my negative comments and get being beaten up. Why can't you be more like me?"

I took a deep breath, ready to cut my losses fully. "You know what? The moment you decide to lose the pacifier, you can ask me that," I said. "Until then, I will get married."

"Well, I'm sorry, but I don't like this," Bernice said. "Look, just reconsider this and just be content on being a nerdy spinster. Or marry Samantha! Save face and be more like me."

Another deep breath. "I'm sorry, sister, but I can't and won't," I said.

Bernice narrowed her eyes at me. "Then you will taste my wrath soon, she said. "Until you decide to remember your place is in the background or you decide to marry my friend, I will cause a lot of problems."

At that moment, my uncle was in police mode, brandishing out his handcuffs. "I expected this," he said, snapping the cuffs on a spluttering Bernice. "You're under arrest for contempt and conspiracy."

"You can't do this to me!" Bernice spat angrily but her cries went unheeded as Uncle Daniel read the Miranda rights while leading her out the door.

"Thank heavens that harlot is gone," Mrs. Saint Croix sighed. She gave me a smile. "I really don't know how you put up with her."

"Believe me, I know," I replied. "I almost considered suicide, but the only thing that stopped me was my promise to my father to keep on fighting for my right to be who I am. And I am keeping it until I draw my last breath. And besides, I'd break Momma's heart if I did kill myself."

"Well, you'll move in with Armand tomorrow afternoon," said Mr. Saint Croix, "and don't be offended if we offered you a shopping spree and a makeover the day after because we're throwing you and our son an engagement party that evening."

"Thanks," I said, feeling a bit better. "I actually thought about the makeover on Saturday with my friends since I decided to cut my losses and be my own man today. Funny how it all changes. So I accept. And just so you know, I never look a gift horse in the mouth, so I appreciate it, good sir."

"Please, call me Saul," Mr. Saint Croix said. "And this is my wife Helena."

"I really like to stick with being formal for a bit longer," I said. "I grew up in a household that accepted changes, but even then I knew how to be respectful to my elders, Mr. Saint Croix. So, don't take it personally. My mother never raised me to be a fool."

"Your mother raised you well," Mrs. Saint Croix said, smiling at my mother, who smiled at me.

"So, mon beau, I take it that you want to take tomorrow morning to spend it with friends?" Armand asked. "Because I can begin the makeover tomorrow." He squeezed my butt a little too tight, and I suppressed a squeal.

"I have my friends to say goodbye to, so the makeover can wait," I said, batting the cheeky man's hands away from my behind.

"Wow, Jarvis, you and Armand are acting like a married couple," Marcia joked, making everyone else laugh.

I believed it, readers. I did.