All Chapters of Married The Wrong Groom: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

Third Person PovAlexander’s memory drifted back to that night, to the moment he returned to her room after finally cooling down. The image of her in the bathroom was burned into his mind.She had been slumped on the cold tile, half-conscious, her hair plastered to her damp, flushed cheeks. The sour stench of alcohol and vomit hit him instantly, sharp and unforgiving, but he ignored it, focusing entirely on her.Carefully, he knelt beside her, hands steady and deliberate as he lifted her onto her feet, supporting her wobbling frame. “Alliyah, wake up. You puked on yourself,” he said, his voice low but tinged with frustration.She swayed slightly but didn’t respond, her eyelids fluttering lazily. “Damn it,” he cursed under his breath, realizing that waking her would be impossible.With patience, he guided her toward the bathtub, letting her lean against the porcelain while he turned on the water. Steam curled into the air, soft and warm, carrying away the harsh odor that lingered.“You

Alliyah Agustin-AstleyMy chest tightened at Alexander’s words, my thoughts spiraling back to that morning—him standing there shirtless, me wrapped in his oversized polo, waking up to find him sleeping beside my bed.He never actually explained what happened.Alexander kept saying it was payback that he was there, and until now, I don’t know what I did to make him do that.We strictly have rules not to have any physical touch unless it's public! Unless…it was something I did?God, I wish the floor would eat me up.“Oh! Something juicy!” Kassandrah clapped her hands together excitedly, her eyes sparkling with mischief, while irritation flared hot in my chest. “Did she get sick, too, and you had to take care of her?”“She got drunk,” Alexander replied flatly, his tone cold. “And everything else is history.” His gaze never left mine as he said it.I could feel Chester and Kassandrah studying us intently, waiting for something more. My cheeks burned under their scrutiny.“Love, not here,”

Alliyah Agustin-AstleyI don’t know why I didn’t want to tell him.Maybe someone was only playing a cruel prank. Maybe this was what happened when you married into obscene wealth—people testing how far they could go, how deep they could cut just to feel powerful. Lucky me, I guess.Alexander warned me about this. So this is why I need protection, being tied to him didn’t just mean luxury and security, but exposure—how people couldn’t reach him, so they would come for the ones he cared about instead.My phone vibrated again.Alexander: Are you telling me everything, wife?I narrowed my eyes at the screen, a knot forming in my stomach. Did he already know about the black letter and was simply waiting for me to confess? No. That was impossible. If he knew, he wouldn’t be this… restrained.Me: I don’t know what else to tell you. Is something wrong?There was no reply.The silence stretched, uncomfortable, accusing. I stared at the black envelope on my desk, then stood abruptly and tossed

Alliyah Agustin-AstleyI thought I wouldn’t be able to sleep well that night. My mind kept replaying Alexander’s words, the lingering tension, the closeness, the confusion. I imagined tossing and turning for hours, heart racing, nerves on edge. But as the minutes passed, something unexpected happened.His presence beside me was grounding, almost magnetic in a way I couldn’t explain. The rise and fall of his chest was steady, rhythmic, a silent cadence that seemed to pull the tension from my muscles. The warmth radiating from his body seeped through the sheets, wrapping around me like a protective cocoon.I felt my eyelids grow heavy, my breathing slowing as the anxiety and embarrassment of the day melted into the quiet of the night. The gentle, almost imperceptible scent of him—the faint mix of his cologne and clean, earthy tones—lulled me into a strange, calm serenity.At first, I was hyper-aware of every tiny movement, every brush of fabric, every sigh he let out in his sleep. But

Alliyah Agustin-AstleyI couldn’t bring myself to go out of my room after that morning. I heard a soft knock on my door, and when it opened, it revealed Claire.“Ms. Ali, is everything alright?” She looked concerned when she noticed me lying on the bed, my face scrunched up.“I-I’m fine, I just can’t move much. My whole body is sore.” I said while breathing heavily, so she gasped.“O-Oh, I am sure you had a great night with Mr. Astley,” she said shyly, forcing me to squint my eyes.“Goodness, we did not sleep together, Claire,” I said, and explained everything that happened yesterday.“Oh,” Claire laughed softly, as if she were watching an amusing scene in a movie. “What’s his name on your phone, if I can ask?”“Claire, I told you not to be so formal with me,” I replied, trying to keep my tone light as I reached for my phone. My fingers hovered over the screen for a moment before I said, “Just… Alexander.”Claire tilted her head, eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “Maybe that’s why?”I furr