CHAPTER 67: PERFECT LITTLE WIFE

Alexia’s POV

Oh, I was furious.

Beyond furious.

I was seething, actually.

But today? Today was not the day for tantrums. No. Today, I had a plan.

Aiden expected me to explode—to be the wild card in this situation, to stomp my way in, throw a fit, and embarrass him in front of his fancy rich people.

And normally? I’d do just that.

But not tonight.

Tonight, I was going to play his game.

I was going to be the picture of poise and sophistication, the kind of wife he probably wished I was. I was going to kill him with grace and perfection, and I was going to enjoy every second of watching him choke on it.

So, as I gracefully made my way toward Aiden and the mystery woman he was chatting with—the same one who had been keeping him so busy he forgot his own wife outside—I kept my face serene, my posture elegant, and my attitude flawless.

With a small, refined smile, I approached them, my gown flowing behind me like I had walked straight out of a royal gala.

"Good evening," I said smoothly, my voice soft, refined, polished—nothing like the usual snark I threw Aiden’s way.

Aiden visibly stiffened. His stormy gaze landed on me, and for the first time in my entire marriage, I saw something flicker in his eyes that looked a lot like... shock.

Yeah, choke on that, darling.

I turned to the woman beside him—the one who had his full attention this entire time.

"I don’t believe we’ve met," I said, offering my hand like a gracious hostess. "I’m Alexia, Aiden’s wife."

Oh, the satisfaction of seeing her blink in mild surprise before hesitantly shaking my hand? Delicious.

The woman—Liz, I overheard earlier—smiled politely. "Elizabeth," she introduced herself.

"Oh, Elizabeth?" I repeated, feigning delight. "That’s such a lovely name."

Aiden was still staring at me like I’d just grown a second head.

Good. Let him.

Turning to my dear husband, I stepped just a little closer, slipping my hand into his arm like we were the happiest, most in-love couple in the world.

"Aiden," I murmured sweetly, "I was beginning to worry when you didn’t come to get me. But I see you were... occupied."

Aiden’s jaw clenched. His muscles tensed beneath my touch.

Oh, was he uncomfortable?

I loved that for him.

"Shall we?" I asked, tilting my head slightly, my expression the very definition of wifely patience.

There was a heavy pause.

Aiden looked down at me, his eyes narrowed, calculating, like he was trying to figure out what the hell had gotten into me.

But I just smiled—innocent, composed, untouchable.

Finally, with a strained nod, he placed his hand over mine.

"Of course," he said, his voice a little too stiff.

And just like that, I let him lead me inside, my expression serene, my steps measured, my performance flawless.

Let the games begin.

The Black Brothers looked at me like I had just descended from another planet.

No, seriously. Mouths slightly parted, eyes widened—absolute disbelief.

I could practically hear their thoughts: Who is this woman? And what has she done with Alexia?

I could feel Aiden’s intense gaze burning into the side of my face as if trying to unmask me, to see if I was some imposter wearing a human suit.

Good. Let them all wonder.

I wasn’t supposed to be graceful.

I wasn’t supposed to be polite.

And I definitely wasn’t supposed to be dotingly clutching onto my husband’s arm like some perfectly trained socialite wife.

Which was exactly why I was doing it.

I turned my most adoring gaze up at Aiden, gently brushing imaginary lint from his sleeve like I was the picture of a devoted wife.

"Darling," I cooed sweetly, "I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long. You know how these beauty treatments are—so time-consuming!"

Aiden stared at me.

Hard.

Like he was waiting for me to crack and start cackling like a maniac.

Luke, one of the Black Brothers, coughed into his fist, clearly trying to hold back a laugh.

"Did... did you just call him darling?" Mike asked, eyes flicking between me and Aiden as if he had just witnessed a glitch in the matrix.

"Yes," I responded smoothly, batting my lashes. "Is that so strange? He is my husband, after all."

Henry outright choked on his saliva.

Aiden? Oh, he was stiff as a damn board. I could practically hear the gears in his head grinding as he tried to figure out what the hell was going on.

And then, because I was enjoying myself way too much, I turned to Elizabeth, giving her a small, pleasant smile.

"Elizabeth," I said gently, "I do hope my husband has been a good host while I was away."

She blinked, clearly unsure how to respond to this version of me. "Uh... yes, of course. Aiden has always been a gentleman."

I squeezed his arm. "Oh, I know. That’s why I married him."

Aiden visibly flinched.

I had to bite my tongue to keep from laughing.

This. Was. Glorious.

The Black Brothers looked like they were witnessing a historical event.

Aiden looked like he was debating whether to throw me into the nearest wall or demand a DNA test.

And me?

Oh, I was having the time of my life.

As the cameras clicked away at the entrance, I put on my best, most dazzling smile.

The paparazzi were like sharks, snapping away, their flashes going off like tiny bursts of chaotic fireworks. If Aiden hated anything more than public scrutiny, it was public speculation.

Which was why I made sure to lean in just a little closer, wrapping my arm around his like we were some deeply-in-love power couple.

He stiffened immediately.

Perfect.

The Black Brothers were still stuck somewhere between horrified and impressed. Elizabeth? Oh, she was trying so hard to look unbothered, but I caught the way her smile tightened.

I tilted my head slightly, making sure my hair cascaded over my shoulder just right.

Aiden’s team did say this was about image, right?

So fine.

Let’s give them an image.

Aiden’s fingers twitched at his side, and for a split second, I thought he might just drag me away and demand answers. Instead, he sighed, that telltale ’I’m at my limit’ sigh, before placing a stiff hand at the small of my back.

Well, well. Progress.

We walked forward together, flashes still blinding, and I made sure to move with poise. No tripping. No slouching. Just grace and elegance.

The whispers started.

"Is that really Aiden’s wife?"

"She looks so different!"

"Did you see how she smiled at him? Maybe they actually like each other?"

"Impossible. I heard she was a total brat."

Oh, darlings, keep talking.

I could practically feel Aiden gritting his teeth, but he said nothing. Not even when I lightly placed my hand over his in the most ’supportive wife’ way possible.

Cameras loved it.

Aiden?

Well. He was probably plotting my murder.

One thing I noticed immediately was that the woman with Aiden wasn’t just any random woman.

No, she was someone important.

It was in the way his eyes softened every time he glanced at her. The way his expression, usually cold and unreadable, flickered with something nostalgic. Something familiar.

Something that wasn’t there when he looked at me.

Interesting.

And what was even more interesting was that, for a man who always nagged me about not acting like a proper wife, Aiden didn’t seem pleased at all that I had embraced the role tonight.

Oh, he wanted me to be the perfect wife, alright.

He just didn’t want me to be the perfect wife in front of her.

The irony of it was delicious.

I could tell he was seething beneath that perfectly controlled exterior. His jaw was tighter than a steel trap, his grip at my waist possessive, but not in the usual way. No, this wasn’t about affection or care—this was about control.

He didn’t like what I was doing.

And that made me want to do it even more.

I made sure to smile even brighter, greet everyone with grace, and respond to every compliment with charm. People gushed over me, some even throwing praises Aiden’s way.

"Aiden, you have such a beautiful wife."

"She’s absolutely stunning tonight!"

"You’re a lucky man, Aiden."

I turned to look at him, waiting.

Waiting for him to say something. Anything.

But he didn’t.

Not a single word.

Not even a begrudging ’you look nice’ from the man who forced me into this ridiculous marriage.

My fingers twitched at my side, but I kept my composure. If he wanted to pretend I wasn’t standing right next to him looking like a damn goddess, then fine.

Let him stew in his own misery.

Let him watch as his so-called ’undeserving wife’ became the center of attention tonight.

Because one thing was for sure—

I was done playing small. After all that was why he took me to the spa right? to much his standards.