Semua Bab Her Face, My Wife's Shadow : Bab 21 - Bab 30

Aria's POV Mila spent the entire afternoon enthusiastically showing off everything she had purchased — clothes, shoes, handbags, jewelry, and countless shopping bags coveted her bed until there was barely any space left to sit. James had clearly given her a blank cheque, and judging by the mountain of luxury items scattered around the room, she had taken full advantage of it. Yet, what impressed me most wasn't the extravagant purchases. It was her smile. The genuine excitement radiating from her face. The way she practically glowed while unpacking every item. And especially when she proudly announced she would be accompanying me to the gala tonight. A small warmth settled in my chest. At least I wouldn't have to face Alexander's world alone. Still, as I watched her continue sorting through the shopping bags, a bittersweet thought twisted in my mind. No matter how frightened, broken, or traumatized Mila became, she always seemed to return to herself eventually. Give her deli

Aria's POV To be honest, they're incredibly boring right now. The two ladies stood before me, projecting years of pathetic, one-sided corporate rivalry with Isabella, and I simply didn't have the energy to care. Her eyes were piercing into mine. “Say that word again.” I sighed heavily. “I'm afraid if I do,” I replied calmly. “You might not live to see tomorrow's daylight.” As I spoke, my gaze drifted towards Alexander. The unspoken message was obvious. Everyone in this room knew how ruthless he can be when it comes to his wife. For a briefest moment, fear flickered across both their eyes. Oh. So my threat actually worked. Maybe that arrogant jerk was useful after all. The blonde woman tossed her hair over her shoulder. “No wonder your stepsister hates you so much.” I clenched my jaw. Seriously. These two ugly dolls are really testing my patience. They're lucky we're in a public space — I would have shown them the difference between Isabella and Aria. I pressed my lips

Aria's POV Our gazes shifted toward the glass entrance of the hall. A small group was making their way down the building. Alexander, his grandfather; his father, Mr. Dylan; and Isabella's father, Mr. Grey, emerged together. Although they walked in the same direction, they maintained a distinct, chilly distance from one another. Mr. Dylan carefully supported his elderly father's arm, guiding him down each step with quiet attentiveness. Beside them, Alexander moved with effortless grace, his hands tucked inside his pants pockets, his dark eyes fixed on the lady as if she were a mildly irritating obstacle blocking his path. Evie shrieked at the sound of her father's voice, her intoxicated confidence fracturing. But instead of backing down and retreating to the car as her father had implicitly demanded with his glare, her eyes instantly drifted away, landing on Alexander. “Alex…” she called desperately, her gleaming white nails aiming for the lapel of his dark green suit jacket.

Aria POV I opened my eyes to find him moving back, calmly pulling a clean shirt from the valet stand right beside where I was pinned. As he slid his arms into the sleeves, his gaze raked over my form.“What are you doing here, Aria? You should be sleeping in your room. Or did you come in here tonight to seduce me with that choice of outfit.”Confused, I looked down at myself to see my chest partially exposed and my nipples fully visible through the material. Oh God! I instantly crossed my palms over my chest, burning with mortification. “I… I didn't mean to dress like this.”Stupid girl. I should have looked in a mirror before going into a man's room at midnight. He was a red-blooded man after all, and my tight pajamas were accentuating every single curve of my body. A shudder ran down my spine as the vulnerability of the moment sank in. I felt so embarrassed, remembering the way he was looking at me earlier. In

Alexander’s POV Dropping my phone, I pressed my temple, trying to dull the relentless ache blooming behind my eyes.My architectural team had submitted five different commercial complex blueprints this morning. I reviewed every drawing myself, approved each one, and forwarded them to Mr. Brown without delay. Yet, the man remained dissatisfied.I exhaled slowly.What sort of client was I dealing with? Why was he so impossibly difficult?In the years I had spent leading Sterling Global, I had never encountered anyone who demanded such an unrealistic standard of architectural perfection. The issue originated a week ago when I presented the initial projects Aria had designed before her retrieval. As soon as Mr. Brown saw them, he instantly became captivated by the elegance of the structures, praising every line, curve, and detail. He immediately requested a face-to-face meeting with the architect responsible, assuming the genius behind the work was one of my employees.If only he knew