THE SPITEFUL BRIDE: Marry To Rival's Son novel Chapter 31

Chapter 31

He cupped her cheek gently, tilting her chin up toward him, his eyes searching hers.

The clinking glasses, the soft gasps, the flashes of light, none of it mattered the moment leaned in. Time slowed, as if the universe had stopped to watch this single moment unfold. Mia’s breath caught in her throat, and her lips trembled slightly.

Stefan’s thumb brushed over her skin, a gentle, grounding touch.

They were doing this just for them, it was just an act to rile their fathers, Mia reminded herself. But her body wasn’t listening, neither was her heart. Because she could feel it, it felt like it wanted to jump out her chest.

As his lips brushed against hers, soft, searching, and unhurried, the room faded. Mia forgot how to breathe for a second. Her eyes fluttered shut, and she leaned into him instinctively. The kiss wasn’t rushed, It was one of the best shows of her life. She couldn’t help but wish, they never stop playing the show.

Her thoughts tangled around the feeling of him. The scent of his cologne, clean, expensive, familiar. The way his hand settled on the small of her back, he held her like she was breakable and precious all at once. And her heart, traitorous and loud, beat against her ribs like it was begging to be touched.

She has always been a good child, she stayed away from from guys all her life because she wanted to make her dad proud. She Focused on her studies and business because to her, guys were nothing but distraction. So, she could actually call this her very first kiss, and it was more than she’d envisioned. This felt raw, and intimate.

Why does this feel so real? she wondered, lips molding to his like she’d kissed him a thousand times before, like her soul recognized the rhythm of his.

Stefan wasn’t expecting this either. He had planned to kiss her, to silence the crowd, to show dominance, to mock his father with a display of power and devotion. But the moment his lips touched hers, the act unraveled.

She was warm and soft, and the tremble he felt from her only made him sink deeper into the kiss. It was meant to last a second, just a second. But now? He couldn’t pull away.

Her lips moved with his like they were made for each other, and it hit him hard, how dangerous this was. How real she felt, and how right she tasted. There was sweetness in her, like honey laced with steel, a woman both soft and fierce. 1

He didn’t know when his other hand rose to cradle the back of her neck, or when he tilted his head slightly to kiss her deeper. He only knew that her fingers had curled around the lapel of his suit and she wasn’t letting go, and neither was he.

This isn’t real, this was fake, meant just to spite. But his heart didn’t care. It pounded in his chest like a traitor, whispering more, more, moré.

She should’ve pulled away. He should’ve stopped, but neither of them moved.

When they finally pulled apart, their foreheads resting together, breathing hard, eyes still closed, the room erupted into thunderous applause.

But neither of them heard it. All they heard was the sound of their own shattered walls, crashing softly to the

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Jeremiah stared at his reflection in the mirror, his jaw clenched, hands gripping the edge of the marble sink until his knuckles turned white. He couldn’t stand another second in that hall, Watching that bastard son of his, bend like a dog to Samuel Meyer’s daughter, the daughter of the very man he swore to destroy, it was like swallowing poison.

He splashed cold water on his face, hoping to cool the heat burning behind his eyes. But rage like his didn’t wash off easily, because it ran too deep, and too long.

The restroom door creaked open, he didn’t bother looking up. Probably another guest, but then he realizes his men were outside to stop anyone coming in.

Then the footsteps stopped, measured, intentional. Heavy with arrogance, he already guessed who it was. He lifted his head slowly, and there he was.

Samuel Meyer.

The father of the woman who had, made his son betray blood and legacy.

For a moment, the air between them crackled with old hatred, years of rivalry, backstabbing deals, and unspoken threats compressed into a single stare.

Neither man moved, neither man smiled.

Then Samuel took a step forward, ot too close, just enough to deliver the warning with no chance of misinterpretation.

Outside, their men dressed in sharp black suits and colder glares, stood like statues, muscles tense, eyes watching each other like wolves ready to pounce. If one raised a finger, the other would retaliate.

Inside, Samuel’s voice dropped into something quiet and deadly.

“Tell your son to stay away from my daughter,” he said, his tone like a dagger slipping into silk. “This union will never take place.”

Jeremiah’s lips curled faintly, not a smile. Just a trace of condescension, like Samuel’s threat was the most amusing thing he’d heard all night.

“For once in your life…” Jeremiah’s voice was cool, detached, laced with venom, “you’ve said something reasonable.”

He turned toward the door, already walking out, but paused, hand on the handle.

“I don’t want my name stained by yours either.” And then he left.

Samuel’s nostrils flared as the fury swelled in him like a wave. With one swift, violent motion, he slammed his palm against the sink, rattling everything on it. His breathing was heavy. Controlled, but inside? A storm raged.

He stepped out, his men quickly straightening as he grabbed a towel from one of them. He wiped his hands like he’d touched filth, then tossed the towel away with disdain.

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“Clear the mess,” he muttered darkly, his voice was soft. But his men understood, they disappeared into the

restroom.

Samuel, composed once again, adjusted his cufflinks as if nothing had happened and reentered the hall, only to find the very image he least wanted to see:

Stefan and Mia holding each other so close, dancing.

Her head tilted up to his, with eyes locked, lost in each other. The music soft, the lighting warm, a perfect scene for a love story. Samuel’s stomach twisted.

“Baby, where have you been?” Cassandra’s voice broke through the moment as she approached him, fake sweetness dripping from her voice, her perfume too thick and cloying.

But he didn’t even glance her way. “Not now, Cassandra,” he said flatly, walking past her like she didn’t exist.

He raised two fingers subtly. One of his guards stepped forward immediately, placing a glass into his hand. He took a slow sip. His expression, calm and polished. But inside, he was already writing a new plan.

One that would burn this fairytale to the ground, because no matter how many kisses, rings, or stares they shared…

This story would not end with “happily ever after.”

Elena was having a drink, when she received a call amidst the noise and music. She couldn’t hear a thing, so she excused herself and stepped into a quieter hallway near the exit. When the voice finally came through, it sounded panicked and urgent. The person on the line said her mother had been in an accident. They didn’t give full details, just that she needed to come immediately.

Elena panicked. Her first instinct was to tell Mia, but Mia was still on the dance floor with Stefan, their hands intertwined, the attention of the room fixed on them. Elena didn’t want to interrupt and cause a scene. She looked around for Mose, but he wasn’t nearby. Then her eyes landed on Sienna, seated at a table mid- conversation with a guest.

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