Alexia’s POV
Okay, so Aiden had officially ditched . Not surprising, really. I should’ve known better than to expect him to personally co and pick up after spending all day getting turned into a rich man’s doll. Instead, he had sent his ever-so-efficient assistant, Tobias. How romantic.
Well, if my darling husband thought I was going to jump at his beck and call, he had another thing coming. If he had the nerve to leave waiting after subjecting to a full day of grooming and plucking, then I had every right to make him wait too. Petty? Maybe. Worth it? Absolutely.
So, instead of heading straight to the event, I did what any rational, revenge-driven woman would do—I decided to eat first. Priorities, you know? I had spent the entire day getting pampered and transford, but nobody had thought to feed . And a girl needed fuel if she was going to survive a room full of high-society snobs.
Lucky for , there was a restaurant right outside the spa. It was one of those fancy ones where the nus didn’t have prices because if you had to ask, you probably couldn’t afford it. But joke’s on them—I wasn’t paying.
I strutted in, looking like money (thanks to Aiden’s ticulous planning, though he didn’t deserve the credit). The hostess imdiately greeted with a bright, fake smile—the kind reserved for the rich and famous. I could get used to this.
Sliding into a plush seat, I skimd through the nu. Lobster? Yes. Steak? Absolutely. Dessert? Bring it on. If Aiden was going to abandon , I was going to make sure it cost him.
When the waiter ca to take my order, I put on my best rich-wife-who-doesn’t-care-about-prices face and waved a perfectly manicured hand.
"Charge it to the account my husband used to pay for the spa next door," I said casually, giving my nails an approving glance.
The waiter hesitated for a second, probably wondering if I was about to get him fired, but then he nodded. After all I did look the part. Smart choice, buddy.
As I waited for my food, I started thinking. If people were already calling a gold digger, then I might as well start enjoying the luxury. Where was my wife allowance anyway? Surely, being legally bound to the Great Aiden Sinclair ca with so financial perks.
I had suffered enough, hadn’t I? Getting woken up at ungodly hours, being thrown into a public spectacle of a marriage, and now, being ditched for business? Oh, no. If I was going to be labeled a gold digger, then I deserved compensation.
By the ti my food arrived, I was fully committed to my plan. I was going to eat well, take my sweet ti, and show up fashionably late to that stupid event.
That should teach Aiden not to leave hanging.
There I was, enjoying my well-deserved, luxurious al, taking my sweet, sweet ti, when Tobias walked in like a man on a mission. I barely looked up from my steak as he approached, his usual composed, professional expression now edged with a thin layer of panic.
"Madam, Mr. Aiden has been trying to reach you," he inford , his tone polite but urgent. "He requests that you answer your phone imdiately."
I raised an eyebrow, taking another bite as I lazily reached for my phone. Oh? Ten missed calls. A few ssages. And, of course, the last one:
Get your ass right here. People are talking. And I hate when people talk.
Great. My dear husband was clearly losing his mind.
I sighed dramatically, setting my fork down. "Well, I’m eating." I gestured at the empty chair across from . "Why don’t you sit and join instead?"
Tobias, the ever-loyal assistant, looked horrified. Like I had just asked him to commit high treason. "I appreciate the offer, but I must decline. We are already late, Madam."
I gave him my sweetest, most unbothered smile and waved a dismissive hand. "Then you can wait."
Poor Tobias visibly struggled. The man was caught between following my instructions and the terrifying reality of facing Aiden later. I could practically see him weighing his options.
Aiden must have threatened him real bad.
Eventually, Tobias sighed and, hesitantly, sat down. He looked like a man sitting on a ti bomb. The tension rolling off him was almost entertaining.
"Madam," he tried again, clearly resisting the urge to beg to move faster. "Mr. Aiden is already at the event. He insists we leave now."
I speared a piece of steak dramatically. "Tobias, relax. You look like you’re about to pass out."
He was far from relaxing. In fact, he looked like he wanted to grab the fork out of my hand and drag out by force.
I finally sighed, deciding I had made my point. Aiden was probably fuming, and while I enjoyed torturing him, I also valued my life.
"Fine, fine, I’m almost done. No need to have a heart attack."
Tobias did not look convinced. I was pretty sure that if I didn’t move fast enough, he’d physically throw over his shoulder and haul out.
As I sipped my drink, I smirked to myself. Aiden was already stressed, which ant my job here was halfway done. Now, it was ti to show up, look stunning, and add to his misery.
Let the gas begin.
The mont I stood up, Tobias looked visibly relieved. Poor man—I almost felt guilty for tornting him with my petty revenge against Aiden. Almost.
I barely had my seatbelt on before Tobias sped out of the parking lot like the devil himself was chasing him. And honestly, given how terrified he was of Aiden, I wouldn’t be surprised if he actually believed that.
By the ti we arrived at the venue, I swear I saw him exhale for the first ti.
Just as I reached for the door handle, Tobias shot out a hand to stop .
"Madam, please wait. Mr. Aiden is coming to get you."
Oh? So now my beloved husband suddenly rembered he had a wife? How sweet.
I watched as Tobias called. And called. And then—oh, would you look at that? No answer.
Tsk. See? And they call the brat?
After waiting for twenty minutes—yes, twenty whole minutes—I was sick of it. What did he expect to do? Sit here like a well-behaved wife waiting for her prince charming the whole night? Please.
He can find inside. I had more important things to do—like getting a drink. Because knowing Aiden, the mont he did show up, he’d make it his mission to keep far away from anything remotely alcoholic. Might as well get one in before the warden arrives.
So, with zero regrets, I stepped out of the car, my gown flowing around like the very epito of grace and elegance.
And then—I froze.
Because right in front of , standing in all their arrogant, rich-boy glory, were none other than The Black Brothers.
Aiden’s best friends.
Also known as—my forr brothers in my past life although they didn’t rember that.
Oh, for the love of all things dramatic.
This night just got a whole lot more interesting.
To say they were shocked was an understatent.
The last ti we t, I had looked... decent. Presentable, even. But tonight? Tonight, I looked like a million bucks. So yeah, their reactions were completely understandable.
Luke was the first to snap out of it, his sharp eyes scanning from head to toe before letting out a low whistle. "If I didn’t know that was Aiden’s car and that Tobias was the one driving, I’d never have guessed you were his little wife."
Little wife?Ugh. The way he said it made it sound like I was so fragile little thing tucked away in Aiden’s pocket.
Mike, ever the tactless one, grinned. "Yeah. Money looks good on you."
I bit back a sarcastic remark, but their words still hit in a way I wasn’t expecting.
Even with their so-called praise, I still felt a pang of disappointnt.
They didn’t recognize .
Not even a flicker of familiarity in their eyes.
I had foolishly hoped that maybe—just maybe—seeing all dressed up, looking sowhat like the girl they once knew would jog their mories. But nope. Nothing.
So, treating them like Aiden’s friends it is.
Before I could dwell on the sting of it all, Henry—ever the gentleman—stepped forward and shoved both Luke and Mike out of my personal space.
"Let the poor girl breathe," he scolded them before turning to with a small smile. "You look beautiful."
And damn it, I felt a flicker of happiness at that.
Because let’s be honest—which woman doesn’t like being told she looks beautiful? Especially when it ca from people who once treated you like an annoying little sister.
In our past life together, they had never complinted . Not once. Brothers weren’t exactly known for boosting your self-esteem.
Martin, the last of the four, suddenly took my arm, his eyes twinkling with amusent. "Allow to escort you inside."
I laughed softly, but before I could reply, the other three flanked from all sides.
So instead of one, I ended up being escorted by all four of them.
As we walked toward the entrance, I casually asked, "Where’s Aiden?"
Imdiately, they all made weird faces.
Like guilty, shifty-eyed, we-know-sothing-but-we’re-not-telling-you kind of faces.
Yeah. Suspicious.
They didn’t have to hide for long, though—because as soon as we reached the entrance, I spotted him.
And ohhhh, was I pissed.
There he was, standing off to the side, laughing—laughing!—with a gorgeous woman.
And smiling.
Not a smirk. Not a sarcastic chuckle.
A genuine, soft, warm smile.
Aiden never smiled.
Not in all the ti I had known him.
Not once had he ever given a genuine smile.
Not that I cared.
I didn’t care.
... But to think he kept waiting twenty whole minutes in the car while he was here, all charming and grinning like a lovesick fool?
Yeah.
I was beyond furious.
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