THE SPITEFUL BRIDE: Marry To Rival's Son novel Chapter 91

Chapter 91

And then… Stefan froze.

His hands held her in place, but his lips stopped moving.

Mia blinked, confused and breathless. She watched with confusion as Stefan’s hands loosened around her ass, and his arms slowly fell away as he lowered her to the floor in a careful manner.

Her legs felt weak and shaky from being wrapped tightly around him. She stumbled slightly when her feet touched the ground. Her knees wobbled under her weight, but she caught herself before falling back against him. Her skin tingled where his hands had been, and where his lips had left their mark.

Stefan’s hands folded tightly behind him as he mentally held himself from reaching out to her. He couldn’t afford to touch her again; if he did, he’d regret it forever.

Mia drew in a sharp inhale, her chest lifting fast like she was trying to catch air after being underwater. Her eyes found his, searching them for something… anything.

But Stefan had already stepped back, the warmth of his body replaced by the emptiness in front of her.

His gaze scanned her face, but it didn’t linger long.

“How many cups did you drink?” he asked, his voice low and even. There was tension beneath it. The kind that doesn’t scream, but coils tightly…m he was trying so hard to restrain himself.

Mia blinked, her lips parted again. “Wha….what?” Her voice cracked, just slightly. Thin and breathy. Like a note trying to hold steady but falling off pitch.

Stefan didn’t repeat the question. He just stood there, expression unreadable. His right hand was in-between his hair.

Mia’s brows drew in, confused. “I took… six cups,” she whispered slowly.

She took a small step toward him, her fingers brushing his shirt again. “How does the number of cups I took have to do with whatever is happening?” she tilted her head with a confused look. “I know what I’m doing.”

She reached up slowly, fingers grazing the back of his neck trying to kiss him again. But Stefan turned his face slightly and pulled back, just enough.

Her fingers slipped away from him, falling awkwardly at her side. She looked up at him, heart in her throat.

He stood tall, unmoving, his hands still folded firmly by his sides. He didn’t look angry. Just… distant.

Mia’s eyes flickered with confusion first. Then something heavier settled… disappointment.

Not just in him. But in herself. She’d just thrown herself at him shamelessly and he had rejected her.

She lowered her gaze, lips pressing together. Her eyes stung, but she didn’t cry. She just stared down at her toes, taking a slow breath in.

One. Two. Three.

When she looked back up, her smile was practiced. Weak. Wobbly.

“I… I should take a shower,” she said quietly. She didn’t wait for his response. She didn’t need it. She turned away with her shoulders stiff and walked toward the room.

Behind her, Stefan didn’t move. Nor did he make a sound. He just watched her walk away, jaw clenched, throat

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91 LOVE YOU SO MUCH THAT IT HURTS

tight, his own breath shallow. Like he wanted to say something.

But couldn’t. This was the best thing for both of them. If he wanted to be a good husband to her, then he should learn to control his desires. He should protect her, not take advantage of her drunken state,

He loved her too much to hurt her. He wouldn’t be able to life with himself if she woke up the next day and hated him for his actions. If anything were to happen between then, it would be because she wanted it too. And it would be when she was more sober.

Mia stood in front of the mirror, steam still clinging to the lass. Her fingers trailed the collar of her robe as she tied it tight around her waist. Beneath it was the nightwear Elena had specifically picked for this trip: thin silk, dark red, soft against her skin.

Elena told her Stefan wouldn’t be able to look away from her if she wore it. She’d insisted she would never need it, but she she was putting it on. Even though it was beneath a robe.

Aidan had told her it was okay to make the first move; he’d advised her to take initiative. So, she’d decided to do something out of the ordinary. But he’d turned her down.

She had wanted to prove all of them wrong. Elena, Matteo, Aiden, everyone who’d ever told her Stefan liked her but didn’t know how to show it. Herself included, who was already letting their assumptions get to her.

Congratulations, she was right all along. Stefan feels nothing for her. Even though she knows nothing about love, she knows this one things. And it’s, “no man rejects the woman he loves.”

She glanced at her reflection. Her eyes looked tired, but somehow more honest. She was hurt, there was no denying it. Stefan had not just hurt her, but he’d hurt her pride too.

She had lied to him earlier. She had taken just four cups, and even if she had taken six… she still wouldn’t have gotten tipsy because she had high tolerance for alcohol. She has no idea why she lied, maybe because she needed

an excuse.

She picked up her hairbrush, then dropped it. What was the point?

She gathered her small pouch, shoved her phone inside, and opened the door. Her heart thudded loudly in her

chest.

She walked past their bed where Stefan sat, hunched slightly over his laptop. The screen’s glow cast sharp angles across his face, his fingers moving across the keys, steady and detached.

She paused for a beat, waiting for something.

He looked up briefly. Their eyes met. Then he looked back at the screen as if he didn’t notice her.

No question. No “where are you going?” No hesitation.

The breath caught in her throat as she turned and left.

When she got outside the suite and down the hall, she stopped. Her legs stiffened. Her hand clutched the pouch tighter.

He didn’t care. His gaze didn’t even last a beat. She wanted prove them wrong, and now she had. But why did it hurt this much?

Her eyes stung. But she blinked quickly, swallowed, and kept walking. Her bare feet padded softly against the cold floor.

At the far end of the villa was a smaller guest room, meant for visitors or perhaps for escaping like this. It wasn’t

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as grand, but it was enough. It smelled clean, untouched. Like nobody had ever stayed here. It matched how she felt. It had a small bed, warm lights, and a sliding door. She flidn’t bother to open the door.

She slipped onto the bed without even turning the light on fler robe was still tied, but she didn’t bother loosening it. She lay on her side, facing the window, the soft rustle of fabric the only sound in the room.

Her hands curled under her cheek. Tight. She bit her botton lip and swallowed again. But the weight in her chest didn’t lift. It sat there, heavy.

She’d taken everything to do what she did, but he’d turned er down. He didn’t want her. Whatever feelings she’d grown for him needed to be killed.

Whatever happened this night would never repeat itself again. Never.

The moonlight crawled in slowly through the curtain. She stared at the thin beam on the floor. Watching it. Counting her breaths.

And eventually, she fell asleep, still curled.

Stefan closed the laptop after the screen blurred in front of his eyes for the fifth time.

The silence in the room stretched. He reached for his phone and checked the time. It was already past three, still no sign of Mia.

His brows drew together slowly, the first pull of worry threading through him. He sat there for another minute. Then muttered under his breath, running a hand through his hair before getting up and stepping toward the bathroom.

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