THE SPITEFUL BRIDE: Marry To Rival's Son novel Chapter 46

Chapter 46

Stefan sat across from her, watching her like a hawk. He didn’t say a word, but his presence was loud, too loud. He made sure her plate was wiped clean, not even a crumb left. And she obeyed, chewing slowly, the food tasting

like cardboard in her mouth.

Not because she was full, but because every bite made her want to scream.

When she was done, he stood up and nodded toward the hallway. “Go to your room.’

Elena paused, her fingers still resting on the edge of the plate. Her throat burned, so many things she wanted to

say.

“You’re wicked. You’re heartless. I hate you.” But none of those words made it past her lips. She turned her eyes toward Mose, her heart twisted.

“I hate you most, I can’t believe I thought I liked you, I regret ever knowing you.” Still, nothing came out.

Her chest rose and fell, holding all the fury, all the pain inside. Her eyes met Stefan’s again.

“Those eyes of yours won’t work on us,” he said flatly. “Be a good girl and go to your room. And don’t do anything stupid. Mose and I have to leave.” Her heart skipped at that.

“Is it… is it to bring back Mia?” she asked quickly, standing halfway from her seat.

But the look Stefan gave her, it was sharp, like a blade to the soul. It made her sit back down, the hope dying in her chest.

“I hate you, both of you.”” That’s what she wanted to say, but what came out was, “I trust you.” The words felt like poison.

She stood up quietly and walked toward her room, without looking looking back.

Mia stirred awake, her lashes fluttering open slowly. Her head felt heavy and her limbs, slow, as if she’d been drugged. The bed beneath her wasn’t hers, it was too firm. Hers was custom-made to feel like a cloud, and this one, though luxurious, felt foreign.

Her stomach growled loudly, and she opened her eyes widely this time. The room came into focus, elegant, modern, and expensive.

She blinked hard. This wasn’t her bedroom. She sat up slowly, taking in the velvet curtains, the dim wall sconces, the sleek marble table across the room. It looked like a high-end hotel suite in the city. Her gaze darted to the tray of food near the table.

Fries. Golden, crispy, perfectly salted. The way she liked them, hand-cut, skin-on, drizzled with truffle oil. Right beside them sat a plate of spicy rice and a thick turkey cut, exactly how she ordered it from that little private chef bistro uptown.

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46 ONE OF THE MOST PROMISING BACHELOR WAS JUST SEN COMING QUEOF A HOTEL ROOM BUT WITH VUOTIN

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Her stomach growled again, almost painfully now, but she didn’t reach for the food. Instead, she walked to the window and drew the curtain back. Her breath caught.

It was the same hotel, the one where she and Stefan held their engagement party barely a month ago.

Her heart thudded.

Why was she here? What kind of person kidnaps someone and puts them in a five-star suite with their favorite food?

Her hand went to the door, it was locked. A card lock, no handle. This hotel doors doesn’t have handles.

She backed away slowly, eyes scanning, her mind racing. Then the door opened.

Her heart leapt into her throat as she looked up.

And there he was, looking at her with those eyes she hates the most.

The last person she ever expected to see.

By morning, the third floor of the luxury hotel was almost unrecognizable.

Reporters crowded the hallway, their equipment scattered everywhere, tripods, boom mics, flashing cameras. Some leaned against the wall, others sat on the floor with coffee cups in hand, sleep-deprived but buzzing with anticipation.

They had all come for one thing, Room 306.

A message had gone out the night before. Mysterious and unconfirmed, but clear enough.

“Be at room 306 by morning. First to break the story gets a million-dollar reward.” was what they all received.

Nobody knew who sent it, but no one wanted to miss out either. The chance to cover a scandal big enough to shake the city, and maybe the world, had pulled them out of bed long before the sun rose.

Some arrived by 5:30 a.m. Others even earlier, hoping to stake out the best spot. People whispered and speculated, rumors was flying around. Everyone was wondering, guessing, and they all wanted to guess right.

“Is it a celebrity affair?”

“Maybe someone caught cheating?”

“No, I heard it’s about a billionaire’s daughter…”

“Whatever it is, it must be huge.”

Every eye flicked toward the door of Room 306. It remained shut, and silent, like no one was inside.

One reporter, Jessica from Channel 9, leaned into her cameraman. “This could be career-defining. If it’s who I think it is… this’ll make what happened at the gala look like a tea party.”

Another journalist typed furiously on his laptop, live-tweeting updates every five minutes with nothing but

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guesses. “Unconfirmed reports suggest a billionaire’s daughter caught with her secret lover on camera… in this very room.”

People were talking, but they weren’t really listening to each other. Everyone’s mind was locked on what might happen when that door finally opened, and that will be soon.

Security stood nearby, but they said nothing. Just guarded the door.

The air was thick with tension, no one dared leave their post.

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