CHAPTER 42: LATE AT MY WEDDING(II)

Aiden POV:

Damn, I was furious. Not just irritated—full-blown, blood-boiling, vein-popping angry. Of all the days for her to take her sweet time, it had to be today—our wedding day. Our wedding day. A legally binding ceremony that was supposed to cement the deal we had agreed upon.

And yet here we were, at 7:20 AM, still trying to leave the house.

I had checked on her at 5 AM—5 AM!—to make sure she was awake. She told William that she would be done in a minute when I sent for her I should’ve known better. That "a minute" had turned into two hours of who-knows-what. Makeup? Hair? Staring at the ceiling while contemplating her life choices? I didn’t care. All I knew was that we were now running embarrassingly late, and I was dragging her out of the house like a petulant child who didn’t want to go to school.

She stumbled along behind me, trying to keep up. Her suggestion about canceling the wedding just added fuel to the fire burning inside me.

"Does this mean the wedding is canceled?" she had the nerve to ask, as if this was a casual brunch we could reschedule.

The audacity.

"You wish," I snapped, barely sparing her a glance. I wasn’t about to entertain her nonsense, not when she had already cost me enough in time and patience. "And do pray to your god that it won’t be, because if it is, the deal is off. Oh, and you’ll be paying back every cent I’ve spent on you."

I could feel her stiffen behind me. Good. She needed to understand the stakes here. This wasn’t a game. I’d put up with her antics for long enough, and I was not about to let her jeopardize everything.

When Tobias, my driver, saw us approaching, he was already standing by the car, holding the door open. He gave me a quick, professional nod, but I could feel the judgment radiating off him. Yes, Tobias, I know we’re late. No, I don’t want to talk about it.

I yanked the door open and gestured for her to get in.

"Get in," I ordered, my voice clipped.

She slid inside, looking both flustered and slightly guilty, but I didn’t have the energy to address it. I followed, slamming the door shut behind me as Tobias returned to the driver’s seat.

Just as the car started moving, her stomach growled. Loudly.

She looked at me sheepishly, her hands instinctively moving to cover her midsection. "Uh, I guess I didn’t eat anything this morning..."

I glared at her, incredulous. Of course, she hadn’t eaten. Never mind that she’d spent half the morning playing dress-up like a toddler in her mother’s closet. Now, she wanted to stop for food?

"No," I said flatly. "We’re already late. We’re not stopping for you to grab something to eat."

Her face fell, but I didn’t care. Did she think I’d forgotten about the last time? The restaurant incident? The wine? The vomit? Oh, no. I wasn’t about to risk a repeat performance.

"Drive straight to the court," I barked at Tobias. "No stops."

"Yes, sir," he replied, his tone as neutral as ever.

I leaned back in my seat, pinching the bridge of my nose in frustration. Who gets late to their own wedding? Me, apparently. Not because of anything I’d done, mind you. I’d been ready on time—early, even. But her? No, she had to take her time, dragging her feet as if this wasn’t the most important day of our deal.

And why? Why the delay? Was she getting cold feet? Did she think she could back out now, after everything I’d done for her? Not a chance. She’d already enjoyed her part of the deal, and I’d held up my end of the bargain. The house, the clothes, the money—all of it was hers now, but only because of me. And now she wanted to play games?

Unbelievable.

I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye. She was fidgeting with the hem of her dress, her gaze fixed firmly on her lap. She looked nervous, almost scared. Good she should know that I am not always Mr nice guy.

And yet... there was something in her expression that made me pause.

"What’s with the face?" I asked, my voice sharper than I intended.

She flinched slightly but didn’t look up. "Nothing," she muttered.

"Nothing?" I repeated, my tone skeptical. "Because it looks like you’re having second thoughts."

She finally looked up, her eyes meeting mine. "I just... I didn’t think it would be real," she admitted quietly.

I raised an eyebrow. "What did you think it would be? A fake ceremony with a fake judge and a fake marriage certificate? Newsflash: I don’t do fake."

Her mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, and I almost smirked. Almost.

Her eyes widened, and I could practically see the wheels turning in her head. She looked like she wanted to say something, but whatever it was, she kept it to herself.

Good. I didn’t have the patience for another argument.

The rest of the drive was silent, save for the occasional rumble of her stomach. By the time we pulled up to the courthouse, I was ready to get this over with. Tobias parked the car, and I stepped out, adjusting my suit jacket before turning back to her.

"Let’s go," I said curtly, holding the door open for her.

She hesitated for a moment, then stepped out, her expression a mix of apprehension and determination.

"Remember," I said as we approached the courthouse. "This is a business arrangement. Nothing more, nothing less. Stick to the script, and we’ll be fine."

She nodded, her jaw set.

For a brief moment, I wondered if this was a mistake. But no. A mistake would have been letting her fend for herself, watching her life spiral out of control while I did nothing. This? This was a calculated risk.

And as long as she kept up her end of the deal, everything would go according to plan.

Or so I hoped.

As soon as we stepped into the courthouse, I was ambushed by the Black brothers. All of them. Not two, as I had requested. Not three, even. The whole damn lot.

"There he is!" Luke called out, his voice carrying through the hall like a damn town crier.

"Didn’t think you, of all people, would be late to your own wedding," Henry chimed in, a smug grin plastered on his face.

"I guess it’s the marriage thing," Martin added, ever the voice of unhelpful commentary. "I think this marriage is the best thing that could ever happen to you."

I glared at them, pinching the bridge of my nose in frustration. "Why are you all here? I only needed two witnesses, not four."

"We’re moral support," Luke replied, clearly unfazed by my irritation.

"Moral support? I need moral support like I need a hole in my head," I muttered, sidestepping them to head toward the secretary’s desk.

I had no energy to deal with their nonsense, not when the clock was ticking and my patience was wearing thin. The secretary gave me a polite smile, though I could see the faintest glimmer of disapproval in her eyes.

"We were scheduled for 7 AM," I began, keeping my tone as calm as possible. "I realize we’re late—forty minutes, to be exact—but is there any way the ceremony can still happen?"

Her smile faltered slightly. "Your appointment ended thirty minutes ago," she said, glancing at her schedule. "But let me check with the judge. We may be able to rearrange—" She paused, her eyes narrowing as recognition dawned. "Oh, Mr. Aiden. Of course. One moment."

Status really does work wonders.

As she walked off to handle the matter, I turned back to face the brothers. Three of them were standing near the bench, chatting animatedly and doing nothing productive as usual. But it was the fourth one—Mike—who caught my attention.

Mike, the loudest and most obnoxious of them all, was uncharacteristically quiet. Suspiciously quiet. I followed his line of sight and immediately understood.

He was staring at Alexia.

She stood a little ways off, looking elegant and refined in her dress. It wasn’t extravagant, but it was tasteful enough to turn heads, especially apparently he’s. She didn’t look the girl I’d plucked out of that diner, wearing a stained apron and nursing a scowl. She looked poised, polished... and unfortunately for me, every bit the woman who could silence a man like Mike.

"Of course," I muttered under my breath.

Mike was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed, a lazy smirk tugging at his lips as he continued to watch her. He didn’t even bother to hide it.

Typical.

I shifted my gaze back to Alexia. Yes, she looked beautiful, I’d give her that. But beauty was only skin deep. If her behavior today was anything to go by, she was as exasperating as ever. Elegant and beautiful? Sure. But polite, considerate, and punctual? Absolutely not. If only she had manners to match her looks, maybe I wouldn’t be this infuriated right now.

She caught my eye, her brows furrowing slightly as if sensing my mood. I quickly schooled my expression, unwilling to give her the satisfaction of knowing she’d gotten under my skin.

The secretary returned moments later, her expression bright. "The judge will see you shortly. He’s just finishing up another matter."

I nodded curtly, muttering a quick thanks before turning back to the brothers. "Let’s get this over with."

Luke and Henry grinned, Martin looked vaguely amused, and Mike... well, Mike was still staring at Alexia.

"Mike," I barked, my patience snapping.