Too Late Mr. White! I'm Married To Your Rival Now novel Chapter 170

Aria's POV

I watched as Elena stepped out of the private dining room, her gaze landing directly on me. She arched one perfectly shaped eyebrow, her lips curving into something between a smile and a smirk.

"Mrs. Carter, what a coincidence to see you here," she said, her voice dripping with false sweetness.

Beside me, Lillian nearly rolled her eyes at Elena's deliberate use of my maiden name rather than my married title. I snapped back to reality at the sound of Elena's voice, nodding politely despite the tension coiling in my stomach.

"Quite a coincidence indeed," I replied, then glanced at Aiden standing tall beside me. The words left my mouth before I could stop them. "Do you need to give Elena a ride home?"

Lillian's eyes widened in disbelief as she shot me a look that screamed, "Are you insane?" Her expression clearly asking if I'd lost my mind, offering to let my husband drive another woman home.

I regretted the words instantly, but they hung in the air between us. I'd said them in front of everyone, and taking them back would only make things more awkward.

No, screw that. I would take them back.

"My stomach hurts," I said suddenly, looking up at Aiden with deliberately wide, slightly watery eyes. "Can you not take her?"

I could feel my face flushing as I gazed up at him, probably looking pathetically vulnerable. Something in his dark eyes softened as they swept over my flushed face and reddened ears.

Aiden moved closer to me, his cologne—woodsy and masculine—enveloping me as he stood protectively at my side. "Not a chance. Mrs. Carter's wellbeing comes first."

My face burned even hotter as I turned to Elena, trying to appear apologetic. "I'm sorry, Elena. I'm not feeling well. Would you mind taking an Uber? We'll cover the cost, of course."

Elena's face cycled through several expressions before settling on a tight smile. "If you're feeling unwell, Aria, Lucas should really take you to a hospital. Stomach pain could be serious."

The way she said his name—Lucas—sounded intimate, as if she had some special claim to him. It made my skin crawl. I wanted to say something, but held back.

Lillian had no such reservations. She raised an eyebrow, challenging Elena directly. "How well do you know Mr. Carter exactly?"

Elena glanced at Lillian dismissively. "Lucas and I have known each other for over twenty years."

"Twenty years and still haven't figured out your place?" Lillian shot back.

"Mrs. Carter, what exactly is your friend implying?" Elena asked, turning to me.

I wasn't going to let Lillian fight my battles. "Exactly what it sounds like, Elena. Was that unclear?"

I blinked innocently, turning to Aiden with wide eyes. "Perhaps Elena spent too much time abroad and has forgotten how to read social cues?"

Aiden gave Elena a cool look. "Elena, in the future, please use my actual name. Only my mother calls me by my childhood nickname."

Elena opened her mouth to respond, but Aiden had already made his position clear. Her face stiffened as she glanced at me. "Aren't you feeling unwell? Aiden, you should take her to the hospital. She looks quite pale."

What absolute bullshit! I felt fine—well, except for the anger bubbling inside me.

"Thanks for your concern," I said sweetly, "but I'd prefer if you called me Mrs. Carter. I am married, after all. Constantly calling me by my maiden name makes it sound like I'm single."

Elena bit her lip, clearly annoyed. "I meant no offense, Mrs. Carter."

"I never said you did."

I was done with this conversation. Clutching my stomach dramatically, I frowned. "My stomach hurts, Aiden!"

His brow furrowed with concern as he immediately scooped me into his arms. "Hang in there. We're going to the hospital."

Before I knew what was happening, Aiden was carrying me past Elena toward the exit. I hadn't expected him to literally sweep me off my feet, especially in a restaurant full of people.

As he carried me downstairs, I could feel dozens of curious gazes following us. My face burned with embarrassment and something else—a secret thrill at this public display of his concern for me.

Soon enough, we reached his car, and he carefully placed me in the passenger seat. Instead of immediately moving away, he hovered over me, his face close to mine. "Where does it hurt?"

His dark eyes studied me intently, making me nervous. I struggled to maintain my act. "My stomach."

"Left side or right side?"

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