Semua Bab Married The Wrong Groom: Bab 11 - Bab 20

Alliyah Agustin-AstleyAlexander set his cutlery down with a quiet, decisive click, then leaned back slightly, clasping his hands together as though preparing to evaluate my proposal like a business deal he had already won.There was something unsettlingly calm about the way he watched me—like a man who already knew the ending but still wanted to savor the moment I spoke it aloud.He looked… pleased.Dangerously pleased.“But this truce has to have rules,” I continued, trying to steady the uneven rhythm of my breathing. “Especially if we’re going to act as a couple outside, where people could see us.”“I don’t follow rules,” he said flatly, without even blinking. The cold certainty in his tone made the air shift around us.“I know that,” I admitted softly, chewing on the inside of my lip, “but… if you want this to work—if you want me to agree to having…babies with you, then you have to at least hear them and tell me if you can follow them.”A flicker of annoyance crossed his eyes—brie

Alliyah Agustin-AstleyNo one said a word, and the silence slowly began to press against my chest—thick, awkward, and suffocating—until it finally grew uncomfortable. Just when I was about to shift uneasily, someone spoke between us, breaking the tension.“Good day, Mr. and Mrs. Astley. We have noticed your arrival. I am Olive, the one who will accompany you today.”I turned to the side and found myself facing a respectable-looking woman. She stood straight and poised, with a small device attached to her ear—one of those discreet communicators used to relay instructions and information.From the way she carried herself, calm yet efficient, she seemed like a director or a coordinator—someone accustomed to managing both events and people with equal precision.“Good day,” I replied, managing a polite smile despite the lingering unease. “We’re here to do the ocular for the event place.”She nodded immediately, her expression professional and composed, as if everything was already running

Alliyah Agustin-AstleyNone of us spoke after that, the silence stretching comfortably between us—until I caught sight of where he had parked. My eyes widened. “Foresta? We’re eating here?”Alexander glanced at me, his tone laced with mild irritation. “Will you stop asking the obvious?” he said, stepping out of the car and opening the door for me with effortless precision.“Oh my goodness!” I breathed, stepping inside. My eyes roamed over the restaurant, sparkling with delight. “They have the most beautiful porcelain—so intricately crafted, all nature-themed, and the colors are so bold and vivid!” I couldn’t help but beam, completely captivated.He didn’t react to my excitement, only gesturing for me to follow him toward the reception. My gaze wandered, taking in the artistry of the space—porcelain displayed like delicate forest treasures, greenery entwined with warm wooden accents, and soft light filtering through leaves carved into the walls.The entire restaurant felt like a forest

Alliyah Agustin-AstleyDexter and Malix were seated in the front of the car while I watched them from behind, studying every expression as the city lights streaked past the windows.Malix was behind the wheel, animated and relentless, while Dexter sat stiffly beside him, hands clamped over his ears as if trying to shield himself from Malix’s ceaseless chatter.“And you know what she said? I smell like strawberries!” Malix exclaimed, laughter threading through his words. He was talking about the girl he’d met the other day. “They wouldn’t say that if they didn’t like you, right?”“If she ever hears you talking like this, she’ll run across the continent to avoid you. That’s for sure,” Dexter muttered, his tone sharp, almost lethal.“What?! You’re always so mean, Dex,” Malix complained, feigning offense. “Have I not been a good brother to you?”“Shut up and drive,” Dexter snapped, cutting him off. Then, his voice softened slightly, though it retained that underlying edge. “Oh, before I f

Alliyah Agustin-Astley“God, is he serious about these messages?” I muttered under my breath, blinking several times as I stared at my phone screen. Message after message filled it, each one arriving without pause, as if he were narrating his entire day to me.[Wife, I’ve arrived. How’s work?][Wife, I already ate breakfast. What about you?][Meeting’s done. Nothing I couldn’t handle. I’ll call you later.][Why aren’t you answering? It couldn’t be that busy.]I let out a quiet breath, sinking back into my chair, unsure whether I should feel annoyed—or strangely unsettled by how consistent he was being. The steady stream of updates felt foreign, almost intrusive, yet oddly attentive. Or maybe it was unsettling because I wasn’t used to this kind of treatment.Chester and I used to fight about things like this. He hated checking in. Said it was unnecessary, suffocating even. Eventually, I grew tired of staring at the screen and decided to let Chester be back then. That became our routi