CHAPTER TWO

ARIA’S POV

Silence swallowed the entire hall. For a heartbeat, no one moved.

 Not even Ryan.

The words hung in the air like a guillotine.

Then just like that, the words traveled through the room twice before they could register in people’s brains. Whispers erupted—first confusion, then shock, then eager hunger. 

Rich people thrived on drama, and I'd just served them a feast.

Ryan blinked slowly, as if he hadn’t heard me correctly.

"Aria," Ryan said carefully, stepping closer. A warning laced my name. "What are you doing?"

I turned to face him fully. For the first time tonight—maybe the first time ever—I saw him clearly. Not the polished version I'd built in my head, but the restless, plastic-smiling ass-kisser he truly was.

My skin crawled at the thought of nearly marrying him.

"I'm saving you time," I replied calmly, forcing a smile that didn't reach my eyes.

A ripple of reactions swept the crowd. Influencers and guests whipped out phones, capturing every second. Ryan's secret guest list had backfired spectacularly.

I had specifically warned him against going public. I guess he will love the attention now.

"We'll talk about this later," he hissed, voice low.

"There's nothing to talk about." I walked around him, heart pounding but voice steady.

"Don't do this here," he growled, jaw tight. My lips curved slightly, my eyes glittering with mischief.

"Here is exactly where it belongs." Another wave of gasps. He moved closer to grab my wrist, confusion very evident in his eyes. I moved aside, I lifted my gaze, met his eyes. "I hope you had a good time with your mistress."

I pointedly stared at Vanessa, who stood frozen in the corner, her yellow dress suddenly looking cheap under the lights. Ryan's face paled. He understood.

I descended the stage steps with my head high. The crowd parted like the Red Sea, taking pictures as moved through the hall. I guess I made such a big name for myself today.

 I called my driver on the way out, my hands shaking so badly I nearly dropped the phone.

Outside, the cool night air hit me. The driver held the door open. "Take me to a club... any club," I murmured, sliding into the backseat.

I shut my eyes, letting out a deep breath, finally releasing all the tension.

My body vibrated as the adrenaline coursing through my veins crashed.

As the car pulled away, I wound down the window and counted my breaths, fighting the panic attack clawing at my throat. Adrenaline crashed through me in waves.

 A few hours ago, I'd been dreaming of wedding venues. Now everything lay in ruins.

By the time we reached the club, the shaking had eased into numb exhaustion. I stepped out on unsteady legs. I needed noise. Chaos. Anything to drown out Ryan's voice in my head.

The bouncers ushered me into the VIP section—every area here screamed exclusivity, but I craved anonymity among fellow broken rich people. The hostess led me down a dimly lit hallway to a secluded booth.

"Will this do, ma'am?"

It was perfect. Far from the main dance floor but close enough for the bass to vibrate through my bones. "Yes," I said softly.

Alone, the smile I'd forced all night crumbled. I collapsed onto the plush couch, staring at the marble table. A hysterical laugh bubbled up. My therapist would have a field day.

"Whiskey," I told the waiter when he appeared. 

"The strongest one."

The waiter blinked.

"Ma'am?"

"The strongest one you have."

He hesitated. I raised an eyebrow, shifting uncomfortably at his judging gaze.

He disappeared immediately. A few minutes later, a bottle appeared on the table.

I poured glass after glass. By the fourth, Ryan's face blurred.

By the fifth, I had convinced myself that I hated him.

By the sixth, I almost believed it. Because the truth was far more embarrassing.

I loved him.

Or at least, I loved the version of him that never existed.

I had loved the illusion, the safety he represented. My throat tightened with unshed tears.

"Nope," I muttered, pointing at myself. "We are not crying tonight."

A nearby businessman glanced in my direction. I glared at him. He looked away immediately. That is much better; he knows what is good for him.

I wasn't in the mood to explain my emotional breakdown to strangers. I poured another drink.

The room began tilting slightly. I might be drunk a tiny bit, but not enough to make me stop.

But enough to make bad decisions sound reasonable.

Suddenly, the atmosphere of the VIP section became more stuffy; the employees started fidgeting, and the conversation around us lowered a little bit.

I wondered who had entered. The only thing I noticed was the strange feeling of being watched.

I hoped it wasn't Ryan, but it couldn't be him; he wasn't that swift to get information about my whereabouts.

Slowly, I lifted my head.

And met a pair of cold gray eyes staring directly at me.

I glared in annoyance as she stared at me with amusement, that's a big contrast to his entire facial structure. He looks like someone who barely smiles or is barely amused by anything.

An air of arrogance wrapped around him tightly.

I huffed silently, I picked up my half empty whiskey, downing it in a go.

Instead of backing off as I glared at him, he walked closer.

Seems he is nosy and also love challenge.

And at this point, challenge might be the best bad decisions I can take this night.

He sat beside me, his weight sinking into the chair heavily.

“I think you got the wrong table” I warned, although I am love watching boys shamelessly dance for money on social media, I am not ready to fully sponsor one.

“I think I am at the right table” his voice dripping with amusement he doesn't not much to hide.

He is confident for a call boy, I will give him that.

Maybe a risky one night stand after you just got cheated on won't be bad after all.

I can use him to pass the night.