CHAPTER 32: WEARING MY CLOTHES (III)

Alexia POV:

For a second, we both froze. His hands were awkwardly placed on my chest, his face inches from mine. My heart was racing, but not in the good, romantic way. More like the oh-crap-what-just-happened kind of way.

His eyes widened in realization, but instead of apologizing, his face turned an even deeper shade of red.

"Get off me, you jerk!" I snapped, shoving at his chest, which, annoyingly, felt like shoving a brick wall.

He scrambled up, muttering something under his breath, and I could’ve sworn I saw a flicker of embarrassment. Good. He should be embarrassed.

As I sat up, fixing the shirt he’d nearly ripped open, I glared at him. "Next time, use your words like a normal person instead of turning into some caveman. And for the record, I’m keeping this shirt on!"

His jaw tightened, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he turned and stormed off, leaving me fuming on the floor.

This man was going to be the death of me.

Aiden POV

What the actual fuck is wrong with me?

I sat on the edge of my bed, raking my hands through my hair for the tenth time since I stormed out of the living room. God, why do I let her get under my skin like this? One minute, I’m in control, perfectly composed. The next, I’m wrestling her over a damn shirt like some unhinged lunatic.

The image of us tumbling onto the floor replayed in my head, and I cringed. Not because of how ridiculous I must’ve looked—but because of where my hands had landed. Seriously, Aiden? Could you embarrass yourself any further?

I couldn’t believe I’d snapped like that. Over a shirt. A shirt! A stupid piece of fabric! Sure, it was one of my favorite ones, but that didn’t justify tackling her like a maniac. She’s just...infuriating. The way she defies me at every turn, the way she doesn’t even try to follow the rules I’ve set.

And yet, somehow, she’s completely oblivious to how she makes me feel—like my patience is being stretched thinner than it’s ever been. She’s chaos incarnate, and I should hate her for it.

But instead, here I was, stewing in my own humiliation because I couldn’t even face her now without feeling like a complete idiot. How the hell am I supposed to sit her down and have a serious conversation about our future—about the engagement ring—when I’ve just made a fool of myself like that?

I looked over at the box on the nightstand, the diamond ring inside practically mocking me. It was supposed to be a tool, a formality to secure my inheritance, but right now, it felt like a weight. How do I give it to her after this? She’s already impossible to deal with. She’ll probably laugh in my face or throw it back at me just to spite me.

Focus, Aiden. This isn’t about feelings or pride. This is about business. About securing the future my mother worked so hard for.

Still, the thought of walking back downstairs and seeing her wearing my clothes, defiance written all over her face, made my blood boil and my chest tighten all at once.

Damn her. Damn that waitress for turning my perfectly ordered world into chaos.

Will this be my life after marriage?

The thought hit me like a ton of bricks. Sitting in the dim glow of my bedroom, I stared blankly at the wall, the earlier chaos still fresh in my mind. If this is what one week of dealing with her looks like, I can’t imagine a lifetime. No, scratch that—I refuse to imagine it.

I’d barely survived a few days in her orbit, and she’s already managed to flip my world upside down. She’s loud, defiant, and completely incapable of following even the simplest rules. Overbearing? Check. Obnoxious? Double check. I’d have to be a masochist to willingly spend the rest of my life with someone like her.

No way. Not happening.

I’ll find a loophole. Once the inheritance is safely in my hands and my mother’s legacy is secured, I’ll sort out an exit strategy. There has to be a way to dissolve this sham of a marriage without jeopardizing everything. I’m a businessman, after all. Contracts are what I do best, and every contract has a weak spot if you look hard enough.

The thought of a permanent future with her? It’s not just unappealing—it’s downright suffocating. I’d lose my mind. Worse, I’d lose myself.

Marrying her was supposed to be a means to an end, a strategy to outmaneuver my father and that conniving lawyer. But now? It feels like I’ve signed up for a one-way ticket to misery. If I’m not careful, this so-called "partnership" could very well be the end of me.

No, I won’t let it get that far.

Once the dust settles, and I’ve secured what’s rightfully mine, I’ll fix this mess. Somehow. For now, I’ll just have to endure her—her antics, her stubbornness, her maddening presence—until the deal is done.

Because one thing’s for damn sure: spending the rest of my life with Alexia? That’s not an option.

One good thing about this chaotic day? My ever-reliable assistant, Tobias, had finally arrived. The man was a lifesaver—efficient, discreet, and, most importantly, unflappable. He entered the study, his usual calm demeanor intact, and asked how he could assist me.

"I need a dress," I said, leaning back in my chair. "Something casual but presentable. Make sure it fits her body size—use the profile you compiled. She’s wearing it tomorrow, and for the love of God, make it something decent. I’m not having her strutting around in those shabby rags or my clothes anymore."

Tobias raised a brow but wisely chose not to comment on the edge in my voice. "Understood. I’ll ensure it’s delivered tonight," he replied smoothly, already taking out his tablet to note down my request.

"Good," I muttered. "And make it quick. Tomorrow, I’m taking her shopping. She’ll stop raiding my wardrobe for good."

Tobias gave a polite nod. "Will this be a private outing, or should I alert security for discretion?"

Private outing? Security? I nearly scoffed at the idea. Shopping with Alexia already promised to be its own kind of hell; adding a crowd would make it unbearable. "Private. Low profile. Just make sure she has something decent to wear in the meantime."

As Tobias left to fulfill my request, I let out a heavy sigh, exhaustion settling over me. Today had been an endless rollercoaster of frustration, embarrassment, and irritation—all thanks to her. Tomorrow promised to be just as grueling.

But for now, at least, I could attempt to sleep off the embarrassment of earlier. Tackling her over my shirt like some unhinged lunatic? It was beyond humiliating. I still couldn’t believe I’d lost control like that.

This marriage can’t come fast enough, I thought grimly, rubbing a hand down my face. The sooner I had the inheritance locked down, the sooner I could start strategizing my way out of this insanity.

For tonight, though? I needed to close my eyes and forget the mess I’d gotten myself into. At least until the next round of madness tomorrow.

One good thing about this chaotic day? My ever-reliable assistant, Tobias, had finally arrived. The man was a lifesaver—efficient, discreet, and, most importantly, unflappable. And he was just a phone call away. Picking up my phone, I dialed his number, and as always, he answered on the first ring.

"Tobias, I need a favor," I said, leaning back in my chair.

"Of course, sir. What do you require?" came his calm and collected reply.

"I need a dress," I said. "Something casual but presentable. Make sure it fits her body size—use the profile you compiled. She’s wearing it tomorrow, and for the love of God, make it something decent. I’m not having her strutting around in those shabby rags or my clothes anymore."

There was a brief pause, the sound of typing in the background. "Noted. I’ll ensure it’s ready and delivered to the residence before 8 a.m."

"Good. Tomorrow, I’ll take her shopping myself. She needs a wardrobe overhaul. No more shabby clothes or... borrowing mine." The last part slipped out with a grumble I hoped Tobias would ignore.

"Understood. Would you like any specific style or brand for this dress?"

"Something decent," I snapped, more out of lingering frustration than at Tobias himself. "It doesn’t matter, as long as she looks presentable in public."

Tobias gave a polite "yes sir." and asked "Will this be a private outing, or should I alert security for discretion?"

Private outing? Security? I nearly scoffed at the idea. Shopping with Alexia already promised to be its own kind of hell; adding a crowd would make it unbearable. "Private. Low profile. Just make sure she has something decent to wear in the meantime."

"Understood. I’ll handle it," Tobias said smoothly, his voice as composed as ever.

"Thanks," I muttered before ending the call.

Leaning back, I exhaled deeply. I let out a heavy sigh, exhaustion settling over me. Today had been an endless rollercoaster of frustration, embarrassment, and irritation—all thanks to her. Tomorrow promised to be just as grueling.

But for now, at least, I could attempt to sleep off the embarrassment of earlier. Tackling her over my shirt like some unhinged lunatic? It was beyond humiliating. I still couldn’t believe I’d lost control like that.

This marriage can’t come fast enough, I thought grimly, rubbing a hand down my face. The sooner I had the inheritance locked down, the sooner I could start strategizing my way out of this insanity.

For tonight, though? I needed to close my eyes and forget the mess I’d gotten myself into. At least until the next round of madness tomorrow.