Too Late Mr. White! I'm Married To Your Rival Now novel Chapter 14

**Aria’s POV**

As our sleek black car glided to a stop outside the upscale restaurant nestled in the heart of downtown, I took a moment to smooth the fabric of my Givenchy dress. Its elegant lines and somber hue felt deliberate; it was as if I were donning a shroud, perfectly suited for the funeral of a relationship that had once sparkled with promise. Tonight, I would bury the remnants of my past love with all the grace and poise I could muster.

“Are you certain you’re prepared for this?” my father inquired, his hand enveloping mine in a comforting gesture that felt oddly misplaced given the circumstances.

I met his gaze, steady and resolute. “More than ready.”

The maitre d’ ushered us into a private dining room, and as we crossed the threshold, my heart sank at the sight before me. The entire White family was already seated—William and Elizabeth White, their expressions a mix of tension and forced civility, and Emily, Liam’s sister, who seldom made an appearance at family gatherings. Yet, the one person who should have been the focal point of this gathering was glaringly absent.

“Where is your son?” my father’s voice cut through the air, devoid of any pleasantries as we remained standing, waiting for an answer.

William’s jaw tightened, his demeanor shifting. “He’s on his way. Please, take a seat.”

“So, we’re important enough to summon, but not important enough for him to arrive on time?” My father’s voice was sharp, slicing through the air like a knife.

Elizabeth shifted uncomfortably in her seat, her eyes darting away. “Traffic is dreadful tonight. I’m sure he’ll be here any moment.”

I maintained my composure as we settled into our chairs, but inside, a tempest brewed. The sheer audacity of Liam to be late to his own apology dinner felt like another slap in the face, an insult I wasn’t sure I could bear.

Ten minutes ticked by, each second stretching into an eternity, until finally, Liam burst through the door, slightly out of breath. “I apologize for my tardiness. There was an accident on Fifth Avenue that blocked traffic.”

Our eyes locked for a fleeting moment, but I quickly averted my gaze, knowing full well that the real reason for his delay had nothing to do with traffic and everything to do with Sophia. The faint trace of her perfume still lingered on his collar—a scent I recognized all too intimately.

William White cleared his throat, attempting to break the suffocating silence that enveloped us. “It’s been quite some time since our families have gathered like this,” he said, his tone overly cheerful, almost forced. “The last time was…” He faltered, abruptly realizing the weight of his words.

The last time had been a discussion filled with excitement about wedding plans—a wedding that never came to fruition.

“You look a bit thin, dear,” Elizabeth interjected quickly, her eyes darting to me. “You must eat more. I’ve asked the chef to prepare your favorites.”

“Thank you for your concern, Mrs. White,” I replied, my voice laced with calculated formality, emphasizing her title as a reminder of the chasm that now lay between us.

For years, I had affectionately called her “Aunt Elizabeth.” She had been instrumental in planning what was supposed to be the happiest day of my life. Yet, when her son had left me standing at the altar, her first instinct hadn’t been to check on my well-being—it had been to manage the media fallout.

I noticed her smile falter—just a fraction, but I caught it.

“Emily, why don’t you offer Aria some of those pastries you brought?” Elizabeth suggested, directing her daughter’s attention toward me. Emily had been sitting quietly, keenly observing the tension in the room.

Reluctantly, Emily picked up a small box of artisanal pastries and extended it toward me. “Would you like one? They’re from that French bakery on Madison.”

I smiled politely, yet firmly shook my head. “No, thank you.”

Emily had never been fond of me. Throughout my relationship with Liam, she had taken every opportunity to make subtle digs at my family’s status compared to theirs. Now, under the weight of obligation, she was forced to feign kindness, and we both understood it was merely a façade.

As the appetizers were served, Liam cleared his throat, reaching into his jacket pocket with a nervous energy.

“Aria,” he said, sliding a small velvet box across the table. “This was meant to be your anniversary gift. Four years together.”

I stared at the box, my hands resting firmly in my lap, refusing to touch it.

Liam continued, a hopeful smile illuminating his face. “It’s for the yacht we talked about—the one you always dreamed of for summer cruises.”

Emily’s eyes widened in disbelief. “A yacht? You bought her a yacht? That must have cost—”

“With all due respect, Mr. White,” I interjected gently, “this isn’t your responsibility to bear.”

My father nodded in agreement. “My daughter is right. The person who needs to take responsibility is sitting right there.” He pointed directly at Liam, his finger an unwavering accusation.

“Let me be perfectly clear,” my father continued, his voice hardening with conviction. “When you first approached me about marrying my daughter, I had my reservations. Not because we needed your family’s connections or wealth—we’ve never needed anyone’s help. I agreed solely because my daughter loved you.”

“All I’ve ever wanted was my daughter’s happiness,” my father added, placing his hand over mine in a gesture of solidarity. “And you’ve taken that from her in the most public, humiliating way possible.”

Liam looked physically ill, his face a mask of regret. “Aria,” he finally spoke directly to me, reaching across the table in a desperate attempt to connect. “I know words aren’t enough. I’ll do anything—”

I pulled my hand away before he could touch me, the distance between us now a chasm I refused to cross.

“If you’re truly sorry,” I said evenly, my voice steady, “then prove it.”

Liam’s eyes darted around the table, then back to me, his expression a mixture of fear and uncertainty. “How?”

“You made a spectacle of me in front of hundreds of people,” I replied, my tone unwavering. “Kneeling and apologizing doesn’t seem unreasonable, does it?”

The color drained from his face, and Emily gasped audibly. Elizabeth covered her mouth in shock, her eyes wide with disbelief.

Liam hesitated, caught off guard by my demand. He glanced at his parents, clearly torn between his pride and the weight of my request, the tension mounting in the air.

I watched him with a detached interest, noting how quickly his supposed remorse evaporated when faced with the prospect of public humiliation.

“Well?” I pressed, my gaze unwavering. “Weren’t you just saying how much you wanted to make amends? Weren’t you the one who said you’d be begging for my forgiveness on your knees?”