CHAPTER 69: NOT IN A FUCKING PETTY NOVEL

Alexia’s POV

Great.

This fucking sham of a marriage is turning into one of those pathetic, love-sick novels where the male lead mistreats his wife because of his long-lost love.

Well—fuck that.

I refused to be that weak, pitiful female lead who just takes it, waiting around like some fool while her so-called husband fawns over another woman.

No, I wasn’t mad that Aiden took Liz to the hospital.

The poor girl clearly needed medical attention—any decent human being would have done the same.

But you know what did piss me off?

The fact that, yet again, he made me sit in that damn car like a fool.

Waiting.

Like some obedient little wife.

And for what?

To walk into the event alone, only to find him enjoying the lovely company of Elizabeth?

Yeah.

That was what pissed me off.

He wasn’t even trying tonight.

The same man who was always so quick to show the world that our fake marriage was perfect—who loved playing the role of the devoted, untouchable husband—couldn’t even manage a fake fucking smile in my direction tonight.

And now?

Now I was left in the middle of this glamorous, suffocating event, surrounded by obnoxiously wealthy people who were either looking at me with pity or watching me like a vulture, waiting for me to break.

Newsflash:

I don’t fucking break.

I forced my lips into a dazzling smile—one that was pure venom wrapped in silk—before scanning the room.

The Black brothers were still here, talking amongst themselves, likely processing what had just happened.

Mike was the nearest one to me.

Good.

I marched straight to him, not caring how many people were watching or whispering.

"Take me home."

He blinked, startled by my sudden demand.

"Wait, what?" he asked, looking around as if expecting Aiden to appear and tell him what to do.

He won’t.

Because he’s not here.

"I said, take me home, Mike," I repeated, my voice deceptively sweet. "Or do you expect me to sit around and bask in my husband’s absence all night?"

His brows furrowed, but before he could come up with some excuse, Luke appeared beside him, picking up on the tension.

"Is Aiden coming back?" Luke asked, but it wasn’t directed at me.

It was directed at himself.

Because even they knew.

They knew he wouldn’t.

I let out a sharp, humorless laugh.

"Oh, please. You think Prince Charming is going to come running back for me? Hell no. He’s with Elizabeth. He forgot about me the moment she stepped into the picture."

Mike ran a hand through his hair, looking between me and Luke, clearly unsure what to do.

I didn’t wait for an answer.

"You have two choices," I said. "Either take me home, or I’ll walk out of here myself and make sure the media gets a lovely shot of Aiden’s abandoned wife storming out of this ’perfect’ event alone. Your call."

That did it.

Mike muttered a curse under his breath before nodding.

"Let’s go."

I smirked.

Good.

I may not be able to control Aiden.

But I sure as hell could control how this night ended for me.

So, yes—Mike took me home.

And he was tense as hell.

I didn’t know why, and honestly? I wasn’t sure I cared.

The moment we got into the car, I leaned back against the seat, kicking off my heels with an exaggerated sigh.

"Finally."

Mike glanced at me from the driver’s seat, his hands gripping the wheel a little too tightly.

The tension in the air was thick, but not from me—I had already moved past the whole "husband ditching me for another woman" part of the night. I had bigger priorities now.

Like food.

But Mike, being Mike, just had to bring it up.

"Did you feel bad that he left and forgot about you?" he finally asked, his voice careful.

I turned my head to him slowly, blinking once.

Then twice.

And then I laughed.

A full, amused, are-you-seriously-asking-me-this-stupid-question-right-now? laugh.

"Why would I?" I said, still chuckling. "It’s not like I love him or anything. We all know our priorities here, Mike. His priority is apparently Elizabeth. And mine?" I turned to him with a grin. "Mine is food. I’m starving."

Mike let out a sharp breath, shaking his head.

"Of course. Only you would be abandoned by your husband at a high-society event and immediately think about food."

"Oh, please," I scoffed. "This marriage is fake, Mike. I didn’t marry him expecting love and roses. And, honestly, I’d rather be eating than sitting there pretending to care about old men trying to score business favors from my husband. So, in a way, Aiden did me a favor tonight."

Mike gave me a look.

One of those I-don’t-quite-believe-you-but-okay looks.

I ignored it.

Because, honestly?

I didn’t need to justify anything to anyone. Least of all to Aiden’s friends.

And right now, I had one thing on my mind.

"So, about that food," I said. "Are we stopping somewhere, or do I have to raid Aiden’s fancy-ass kitchen when we get home?"

Mike chuckled but didn’t argue as he pulled into a drive-thru.

I lit up instantly. Finally—food.

Rolling down the window, I scanned the menu like it was the most important thing in the world. Because it was.

When the poor employee asked for my order, I didn’t hold back.

"I’ll have three large burgers, extra cheese. A double serving of fries. Oh, and—wait—do you have those chicken tenders? Yeah? Great. Give me two boxes. Also, a large milkshake—chocolate. And throw in an apple pie. Actually, make that two. No—three. And, uh..."

I paused dramatically, tapping my chin.

Mike had his head turned toward me, staring.

"You do realize you’re not feeding a football team, right? Its only us you are ordering for." he finally asked, his voice somewhere between amusement and sheer disbelief.

I turned to him, deadpan.

"You want something?"

Mike blinked, his mouth opening slightly before he shook his head. "I—uh—yeah. Just a small fries and a Coke, I guess."

I turned back to the drive-thru speaker. "Did you get all that?"

There was a brief, stunned silence before the employee muttered a "Yep, coming right up."

As we pulled up to the payment window, Mike casually asked, "So, you’re paying, right?"

I snorted. Loudly.

"Why the hell would I do that?" I asked, turning to him with mock innocence.

"Because it’s your food?" he deadpanned.

I gasped dramatically. "Mike! Are you implying that a woman should pay for her own meal? Wow. Misogyny at its finest. And you call yourself my husband friend."

"You’re ridiculous," he muttered, shaking his head.

"Besides,"

I said, smirking, "Aiden can always pay you back, right? I mean, technically, I’m his wife. My expenses are his expenses."

Mike looked genuinely thunderstruck.

I could see the internal calculations happening in his head—the realization that Aiden would absolutely refuse to pay for my five-star, late-night fast-food binge.

I, on the other hand, was completely unbothered.

The second the food was handed over, I dived in.

Mike, now significantly more relaxed, chuckled as I happily unwrapped my burger. His earlier tension from the event seemed to disappear entirely.

"You know," he mused, taking a sip of his Coke, "for someone who just got ditched by her husband at a major public event, you seem to be having the time of your life."

I grinned through a mouthful of fries.

"Of course," I said, chewing. "What’s the point in being mad? It’s not like I was in love with the guy."

Mike gave me that look again.

I ignored it.

Because food first. Drama later.

Mike pulled into a quiet park, turning off the engine before leaning back in his seat. The place was dimly lit, with only a few streetlights casting a soft glow over the empty benches and trees. A perfect spot to enjoy a late-night feast without judgmental stares.

I happily unwrapped my second burger, taking a massive bite, completely unbothered by anything else in the world.

But as I chewed, I caught Mike looking at me. Fondly.

I nearly choked on my food.

Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope.

I squinted at him. "Why the hell are you looking at me like that?"

Mike blinked, looking caught off guard. "Like what?"

"Like I’m some adorable little crushie or something," I grumbled, shoving more fries into my mouth.

His lips twitched. "Maybe because you remind me of one?"

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, well, un-remember it. You’re making my food taste weird."

Mike laughed, shaking his head. "You’re really something else, Alexia."

"And yet, you all still act shocked every time," I said, waving a fry in the air for dramatic effect.

Mike leaned his elbow against the car door, watching me with an amused expression. "So, what’s your plan now? Going to sulk at home? Throw a tantrum? Maybe burn Aiden’s suits?"

I gave him a mock gasp. "Michael Black! Do I look like a petty wife to you?"

He raised an eyebrow.

I sighed, biting into my chicken tenders. "Fine. Maybe a little. But honestly? I don’t even care that much. He made his choice. I made mine. And right now, my choice is to enjoy this food and forget about his existence for the night."

Mike smirked. "Cold, Alexia. Ice cold."

I shrugged. "I learned from the best."

We sat there in comfortable silence for a while, eating under the soft hum of night. The event, Aiden, Liz—all of it felt like a faraway problem. Right now, it was just me, food, and a not-so-annoying Mike.

And honestly?

I could live with that.