THE SPITEFUL BRIDE: Marry To Rival's Son novel Chapter 41

Chapter 41

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Samuel Meyer sat in the dim glow of his office, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows across the hardwood floor. His fingers tapped rhythmically against his glass desk, the Bluetooth headset snug against his

ear.

“Don’t worry,” he said coolly, voice devoid of the warmth. “Everything will be okay. Just trust me.”

He ended the call, with a blank expression. Then, without hesitation, he dialed another number. This time, his tone dropped into something sharper. Darker.

“I want it done today,” he commanded. “Make no mistakes.” he took a short pause. “Clean, no loose ends.

He ended the call and sat still for a moment, then slowly leaned forward with a satisfied smile, a very cringe smile, curled up his lips. He tapped a manicured finger on his desk, the anticipation already feeding him.

Chaos was coming. No one messed with Samuel Meyer, especially not the child who shared his blood but dared to rise against him.

He had taught her the game, every lie, every trick, every mask. He taught her everything she knows today. She was his masterpiece, but she’d forgotten the painter.

But now, she would remember never to go against him. He smiled slowly, picturing the chaos that would soon unfold.

Sun filtered through the elegant windows of the bridal studio, casting a warm golden glow across the room filled with flowing white fabrics, sequins, and the soft murmur of music playing in the background. It was the kind of place where little girls’ dreams came alive in satin and lace.

Mia stood in front of a tall mirror, breath catching slightly as she took in her reflection. The wedding gown fit her like a second skin, sweetheart neckline, delicate embroidery trailing down the bodice, and a train that shimmered like stardust with every slight movement. For a moment, she just stared, lips parting slightly. This really was happening, she was officially getting married to Stefan Sterling.

“Elena,” she called softly, and Elena stepped out from behind the curtain in a flowing lilac gown that hugged her frame gently. Her role as chief bridesmaid couldn’t have been more fitting. Her dark hair was pinned up messily, and the way her hazel eyes lit up made Mia’s chest ache a little.

They both laughed, spinning and posing, joking about wedding day nerves. Sienna and four other hand-picked girls had already gone through their fittings earlier, and everything was finally falling into place. Mia had chosen seven bridesmaids. If she was going to make this wedding loud and unforgettable, then she had to go all

out.

It had been two weeks since the visit to Stefan’s mother. That day had shifted something in her. She’d seen a version of Stefan no one else knew, a man stripped of pride and armor, sitting beside his frail mother with a soft, almost fearful look in his eyes.

Afterwards, she’d gently suggested getting something special for both his mother and Elena’s, even if his mom couldn’t attend. At least she could watch the wedding live, dressed like she was part of it. While Elena mom

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would be her mom for the day. Stefan had agreed without hesitation, just a simple, “Alright.”

Since then, things had been… easier. They still bickered, still exchanged glares, but their silences were no longer stiff. They weren’t friends, not yet. But they were no longer strangers. Somewhere along the line, she’d stopped bracing for the fall. And maybe, just maybe, she was learning to trust the climb.

Sometimes, late at night, her mind drifted back to the way he’d looked at her that day, like she wasn’t just the woman in a contract. Like she mattered.

Her phone buzzed, bringing her from her thoughts.

Stefan: Meet me at the bar. There’s someone I want you to meet, an investor.

A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. He could’ve done the process without her, but he’d been including her in every project, every contract. He sometimes allow her take the lead, like he trusted her decision. He didn’t treat her the way her father did, he treated her like a business partner.

“Elena,” she said, grabbing her purse. “I’ve got to meet Stefan. He wants me to meet an investor.”

Elena, fluffing the lilac dress in the mirror, turned with a smirk. “Just go. I think it’s you he wants to show off, not the investor.”

Mia rolled her eyes. “I’ll send someone to pick you up after.”

“I’ll be fine,” Elena waved her off. “Take your time. Enjoy your moment. Maybe something interesting will happen, who knows?”

Mia laughed, hugging her friend briefly before walking out of the studio, still wearing that faint, unsure smile, the kind that only bloomed when Stefan was involved.

She slid into her car, the soft thud of the door closing behind her echoing in the quiet parking lot. The engine purred to life smoothly, the air conditioning humming as it blew a cool breeze across her face. She let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding and sent Stefan a quick text:

Mia: On my way. Send someone to pick Elena, please.

She adjusted the rearview mirror, gave herself one last look, and drove off.

The sun was beginning its descent, casting a sleepy orange hue across the sky. Traffic was light, the road ahead clear. Everything felt too quiet, almost… peaceful.

Barely ten minutes into the drive, the car jerked. Once, then again. The engine sputtered like a cough before going completely still, making the car roll to a halt on the roadside.

“What the hell?” she muttered, trying the ignition again.

Nothing.

She frowned. The car had just been serviced, new battery, oil change, tires rotated, everything had been checked out. She pulled out her phone to call Stefan, but there was no signal.

“Come on…” she whispered, lifting her phone to the window, trying to catch even a flicker of reception. Still nothing.

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A strange unease crept up her spine, she glanced around. The road was empty. Not eerily so, just… off. Too quiet for a late afternoon in the city.

She decided she’d call a cab instead, probably a temporary network glitch. She reached for the door handle to step out, but it didn’t budge.

Her brows pulled together in confusion. She tried again, yanking harder. Nothing.

“What the…?” she whispered, trying the lock manually. The door stayed stubbornly shut.

A little more panicked now, she turned to roll down the window, but when she pressed the button, the glass didn’t move. That was when she remembered, she had rolled them all up earlier when she turned on the AC. She always hated outside noise when driving.

She pressed the unlock button again. No sound, no response.

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