All Chapters of The Billionaire's Naughty Christmas Bride : Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

Anesha's POV Diana's grip on her cutlery is tight. Her knuckles white as pearls. It's exciting and fearsome to watch her struggle to keep hold of her perfectly well-mannered persona. The seconds tick by and finally, she breathes deeply. Letting it go slowly before turning back to her food. “Let's not rush now. We have a whole wedding to plan. I'll save my congratulations till after that, dear brother. Wouldn't want a repeat of the last time, now would we?” Deimos' jaw clenches. Eyes burning with anger as he twirls his fork in his plate. A chill runs through my spine. The tension on the table sucking the air out of it. “Diana.” her father warns. The fire in her eyes focus on me. “I'm just worried. Anesha has quite the reputation. If word gets out of something else, it might not be so easy to fold over and toss away.” My blood runs cold at the thought of the secret I'm sitting on. I t

Deimos' POV The door clicks shut behind me. Alone with my former lover, I can't help but notice how much she's changed and how little she looks like the woman I used to know. Her hair is cut short, a bob that falls straight and ends at her neck. A side of her hair is pushed back revealing hoop gold earrings. Her skin is a bit brown, like she'd gotten a tan before coming here. The white dress is flowy and ends at her ankles. Intricate designs embroidered into the hems and the waist band. The fact that she's chosen this particular dress that's so similar to a wedding dress sickens me. It must have felt fitting to her to remind me of our last moment together. I meet her smile with a hard frown. “You shouldn't be here.” I say coldly. She takes a step towards me, looking forlorn. “I came to offer you my congratulations. I promised you I'd be the first one to do that when you find happiness.” “I don't need anything from you, Rachel. You can take the first flight back to wherever you

Anesha's POV My body shakes in anger as she sighs in disappointment. “So they failed? Is that all you have to say? You're not even denying any of this!” “Why should I?!” She snaps at me. “I warned you to stay away from my family. You thought you could handle being an Escarrá? Well, this is the price you have to pay.” “I saved your daughter! I could have left her to be eaten alive. After all, that was what her mother wanted.” I sneer, bitterly. Diana says nothing back. “You didn't think about that before you planned this? That this was a line you shouldn't cross?” The voice that echoes in my ears is low and dark. A darkness that twists inside me and squeezes out the last shred of hope I had for her. “There isn't a line I wouldn't cross to get what I want and right now, I want you gone.” I look back at the bed. At the half naked man lying flat on his face and the woman glaring right at me with hate in her eyes. My body starts shaking as a bitter laugh tears through my throat. Tears

Anesha's POV Revenge, they say, is a dish best served cold. So I stalled. Waited for a few days for Diana to think all is well and that I'm still the weakest link. Unfortunately for her, today is the day the world comes to know who she really is. When the article goes up, I'd be munching on my lunch and sipping all the juicy reactions. I can almost excuse the way Mrs. Greta is glaring at me from across the kitchen as I piece together my breakfast. I check on the potatoes and scramble the eggs, humming to myself and then fry the bacon. It smells heavenly compared to the dry salad Mrs Greta is making. She swipes my plate away as soon as I sit and pushes the salad right in front of me. “Madam Escarrá gave clear instructions that you are to watch your weight from now on.” My shock is quickly replaced with annoyance. “Madam Escarrá isn't here. Give it back to me, right now.” “I can not do that. You now represent the Escarrás and as such your appearance matters. You can't look a

Deimos' POV It's her softness that calls me back from my thoughts after Diana leaves the room. I turn around to worried eyes and lips pressed between her teeth. She startles as I pry them apart with my fingertips. “You like biting on things you shouldn't bite on. It's a bad habit.” “No I don't.” I pull her off the seat and drag her out of the house. We pass by Matilda and Diana in the living room. They stop talking as soon as we walk by. Matilda is the very picture of calm, unusual behavior for a woman whose daughter is about to be socially stoned to death. She never cared much about Diana but after losing Eric, I believed she'd at least learned to indulge her. To treat her like a person and not just a stand-in for her son. Looking at her now, I know that's far from the truth. She's still hanging on to the fact that Eric could still be alive. Diana is now less than an afterthought. If she gets ripped apart by the wolves, the better for Eric's standing if he gets back. As much a