THE SPITEFUL BRIDE: Marry To Rival's Son novel Chapter 62

Chapter 62

The moment the words left her lips, the air in the room shifted. A strange stillness followed, like everyone was holding their breath.

Samuels’ short snort broke the silence.

He leaned slightly against the rail of the step, arms folded, smirk curling on his lips like something sour. “You really have a lot of gut coming here,” he said, eyes narrowing, voice low and heavy with disdain.

His gaze shifted to Stefan, hard, expectant, ready to break him down. But Stefan didn’t budge, nor didn’t blink. His face was still, jaw relaxed, but the steel in his eyes was unmistakable. That kind of calm that made people nervous. Like a quiet storm that knew its power and didn’t need to roar.

He didn’t even move, and yet it felt like he took up the entire room.

Mia felt the pressure in the air, but she didn’t give her father the satisfaction of seeing her uncomfortable. Her fingers were still linked with Stefan’s, she drew strength from that.

“We came because we felt it was the right thing to do,” she said, turning her full attention back to her father. “I and Stefan are married. Coming to his in-laws’ house shouldn’t be a problem, should it?”

Samuel’s jaw tensed, but he didn’t speak. His eyes drilled into her like he was trying to make her flinch, but she stared right back, her face blank, eyes unshaken. The kind of look you wear when you’ve spent years being broken by someone and finally built enough of yourself back to stop caring.

But it still stung. Deep down, it always did. Still, she wouldn’t let him see that.

They locked eyes in that standoff, father and daughter, both stubborn, both silent.

But then her gaze shifted slightly to the side, landing on Julian Thorn who stood beside Samuel like a shadow. Her voice was like ice when she spoke again.

“How’s your ex-fiancee?” she said, turning her full focus on Julian now. “I heard she rejected you in front of the press. That must’ve hurt.” She smiled softly, but her eyes were sharp as knives. “But don’t worry. I’m sure there’s a Mia out there for you somewhere.”

Julian didn’t say a word. His mouth opened slightly, then shut again. His face reddened remembering the embarrassing incident.

Samuel had called him on the phone come here, at first he was surprised and confused as to why Samuel wanted him here. But now, he understood the reason behind Samuels call. But it still didn’t make him feel more embarrassed, especially not when Stefan was looking him with those deadly eyes.

Samuel’s eyes burned, but Mia didn’t stop.

She turned her gaze to him again, head tilting slightly. “Won’t you offer us a seat? Or do you plan to keep your visitors standing?”

For a beat, no one moved. Even the air felt heavier.

Then Ethan stood awkwardly. “This is… also your house,” he said, voice tight with nerves. “Of course you both should sit. Come, here….this way.”

Mia’s eyes landed on him. For a second, something flickered again, something quieter. A tiny ache. She used to be the one welcoming guests here. The one filling the room with polite chatter. Now she was the guest.

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Someone else who wasn’t her mother was now the lady of the house, this was no longer her home. Her heart tightened, but she pushed the feeling down like she always did.

“Thank you,” she said simply.

She followed Ethan, fingers still entwined with Stefan’s, the warmth of his hand grounding her like always. Her heels echoed softly on the floor, each step steady, each movement deliberate.

As Mia and Stefan turned and followed Ethan’s lead toward the sofa, Samuel’s voice cut through the room.

“I’ll make you heir.”

Just four words. But they felt like bricks dropping from the ceiling.

Mia froze mid-step. Her fingers clutched Stefan’s hand tighter, her nails almost digging into his skin.

Stefan didn’t react outwardly, but inside, his thoughts moved fast. Of course, he thought. Of course he would say it now, and in front of everyone.

That was Samuel Meyer’s way.

Different from Jeremiahs’, but no less calculating. The both of them, obsessed with power, pretending they didn’t hate the idea of this marriage while twisting everything to serve their egos. Always performing, always trying to one-up each other.

He didn’t speak, didn’t even shift. His face stayed unreadable and cold, but his mind was watching Mia.

This was her moment.

He knew she’d always wanted to lead. That was what brought her to him in the first place. Her Ambition, fire and guts.

Now her father was finally handing her everything she’d ever wanted on a silver platter.

He wondered if she’d take it.

Would she walk away from everything they were building together?

Would she trade him in for the seat at the empire she’d once dreamed of?

His grip didn’t loosen. But inside, he was bracing himself. Preparing to understand her… even if he didn’t like the idea at all.

The silence stretched.

Ethan blinked like he hadn’t expected that either. His brows rose slightly, lips parting, but he didn’t speak. He didn’t look hurt, just surprised.

He never really wanted the throne. He’d only played along for the sake of their mother. The empire was never his passion. That was Mia’s world, not his.

Cassandra, who had stayed seated, now sprang up like someone lit a fire under her. “Ho… honey,” she started, her voice all panicked charm. “What are you saying? What about Eth…..”

But Ethan was faster. His hand covered her mouth mid-sentence, shaking his head slightly, eyes pleading.

“Don’t,” he mouthed quietly.

Cassandra paused, pulling his hand down but not saying more. She sighed dramatically, her hand resting on her waist, tapping her fingers, rocking her hips slightly like she was standing in line at a salon.

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No one looked at her. All eyes were on Mia.

She hadn’t said a word.

She just stood there, staring at her father like he was a stranger. Because that’s how he felt now.

He didn’t believe in her. Never had. And never will.

If he thought she was capable of running the empire, he would have said it long ago. This wasn’t about her. It was about pride. About his petty rivalry with Jeremiah. About using her like a pawn in their old-man game of war.

Mia felt the bitterness rise to her throat, but she didn’t let i reach her face. She was too tired for the same old

dance.

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