"But why wouldn’t you want to marry Emline?" Alia asked, bemused. "She’s a Hawthorne."
Or at the very least, Alia would bet every di and dollar she had that if Caleb Walton was given the chance, he would jump at it, Kelsie Friesent be damned. Marrying a Hawthorne ant marrying into Solara royalty― they certainly were richer than many royal families across the world.
Aiden made a face. "Marrying Emline is akin to suicide," he said. "I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but Emline Hawthorne is such a stick in the mud that she has not a single fun bone in her body. Fucking her is equivalent to trying to stick it into a dead fish― not sothing enjoyable to experience."
This ti, it was Alia’s turn to wince. Every drop of blood in her body curdled at the vivid description.
"Thank you but no thank you," Alia said. "I did not need that visualization of what my cousin could possibly be like in bed."
That ntal image was scarring, and Alia hated how descriptive Aiden was in describing a hypothetical situation. It was almost as though he was lanting about a grievous unfortunate experience he had.
"Exactly my point," Aiden said. "Co on, Alia, I like my fun. You know it, I know it, the whole of Solara knows it. I’m sure even Emline herself knows that even if we get married, sticking to just her for the rest of my life is an impossible task."
"Ever the heartbreaker, aren’t you?" Alia said with a lopsided grin.
Thank goodness she wasn’t marrying this Montgory brother. While she felt plenty less antagonistic towards Aiden after how he had stayed with her at the hospital when Matteo couldn’t be around, she wasn’t entirely fond of him either.
Poor Emline. Maybe she deserved so minimal amount of pity after all.
"I thought you were getting along pretty well with her in the mountains," Alia said. "You two seed chummy."
"Chummy? Please," Aiden said with a roll of his eyes. "She was ordering around like her pet rat. You’re a clever girl; I’m sure you realized she was trying to get to help her co in the way of you and my lovely brother."
"Oh, yes," Alia said. "I noticed. Ever so loyal. You see, you two are already the perfect match!"
Aiden rolled his eyes dramatically. "I just had a rather lovely and expensive lunch. I’d rather not puke it out so quickly, thank you very much."
He then edged his seat a little closer, earning a look of warning from Alia when he moved a little too close. Only then did he sigh and shift his chair back. If it weren’t for the carpeted floors, the legs of the chair would’ve made an awful screeching noise, attracting more attention than they already were.
"Although," Aiden said, "I am not entirely opposed to marrying a Hawthorne and staying loyal to one woman. Care to ditch my brother and marry instead?" There was a sparkle in Aiden’s eye as he shot Alia a debonair smile. "I promise I am way better in bed."
"You say that as though you know what your brother is like in bed," Alia said pointedly. She held her chin high, loving the way Aiden stilled with disgust.
Wonderful. This was revenge for whatever he said about Emline previously.
"He’s rather difficult to beat," Alia continued, carefully watching the way Aiden gulped nervously before shifting uncomfortably in his seat, obviously disturbed. "I don’t think anyone can quite compare to his stamina and size―"
"Fine, you are right, it is disgusting to know," Aiden said, cupping his ears. He made sure to speak a little louder so as to cover up Alia’s voice. She hadn’t been speaking very loudly but the words felt like the scorching flas of hell against the lobes of his ears.
"You asked for it," Alia said, her voice sing-song. "I have every intention of marrying Matteo and only Matteo."
"How nice," Aiden said, huffing. "Would be great if I got to choose my bride rather than get stuck with the bridezilla of the century."
"I’m sure Emline isn’t all that bad." Lie. "Perhaps you two might end up enjoying this marriage." Quite possibly another lie. Or at least, Alia wasn’t in the least bit confident about what she said.
Aiden had said so himself― he wasn’t going to quit his philandering ways so easily. On the other hand, Emline’s obsession with Matteo wasn’t going to cease just because she had a ring on her finger that tied her down to another man.
"I’m more surprised she agreed," Alia comnted, reaching for her keyboard.
Lunch break was almost over and more staff mbers were starting to stream back into the office. While she was sure their current interaction seed more than innocent, Alia would rather not be plastered with another cri of flirting with her husband-to-be’s half-brother.
Thus, the best course of action would be to return to work. She had finished her tasks, but there were certain logistic details she still needed to settle for the Hope for Scholars Foundation.
"You really haven’t been told anything, have you?" Aiden asked rhetorically, raising an eyebrow. "She had no choice. Old man Horace practically forced her."
"Forced her?" Alia echoed.
Aiden nodded. He leaned back in his seat, causing the chair to recline as he did so.
"Either marry or lose her right to the family fortune," Aiden said.
Alia’s eyes bulged at the revelation. Her grandfather was oddly harsh. She was surprised that he would write such a harsh sentence. Having been born with a silver spoon in her mouth, Alia wasn’t surprised that Emline eventually relented.
"I know," Aiden said, easily reading Alia’s thoughts. "So much for the Hawthorne Princess, right?"
He sighed, standing up and stretching. He only wore a t-shirt to the office, along with his signature black leather jacket. As he moved his hands over his head, his shirt rode up a little as well, showing a bit of his tanned skin underneath. Compared to Matteo, Aiden’s hours in the sun had provided him a healthy bronze glow.
"Anyway, I’m just here to warn you," Aiden said. "Although, I’m sure my brother will do the sa eventually."
"About your wedding?" Alia questioned. She wouldn’t be surprised if Emline resorted to more desperate attempts at her life after, especially since she was now in a ti crunch.
"About our wedding," Aiden corrected. "Little Miss Princess has a dress fitting next week. As her groom―" He winced in a manner that resembled experiencing the pain of getting shot, "―I’m supposed to be there with her as well."
"Good luck with that," Alia genuinely said. He would need it.
"Well, good luck to you too," Aiden threw back. "Because your dress fitting is also scheduled for that day. And knowing Emline Hawthorne, she will definitely be out for blood."
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