Too Late Mr. White! I'm Married To Your Rival Now novel Chapter 94

Author's POV

The night's events felt like an impossible dream to Aria, but she wasn't the only one struggling to make sense of what had happened.

Eleanor Smith was completely baffled. Claire Bennett was supposed to marry Aiden eventually - it had been the plan for years. Tonight had presented the perfect opportunity to undermine Aria, yet Claire had actually defended her instead. After pondering this for over thirty minutes, Eleanor still couldn't understand Claire's reasoning.

When she finally heard that Claire had changed into a fresh gown and emerged from her room, Eleanor immediately excused herself from the group of socialites she'd been chatting with and clicked across the marble floor in her heels to find Claire.

"Claire, are you alright?" Eleanor asked, her brow furrowed with confusion.

Madison, who had been speaking with Claire, politely acknowledged Eleanor with a quick "Mrs. Smith" before stepping aside.

Eleanor barely spared Madison a glance before turning her full attention back to Claire. "Darling, why on earth did you defend that woman?" she asked, getting straight to the point.

Claire sniffled slightly, still feeling the chill from her time in the pool despite the warm shower. "Because I truly did fall in by accident," she replied simply.

Eleanor's frown deepened. "Even if that were true, you didn't need to—"

She stopped herself, aware of the many ears around them. Though she didn't finish her sentence, her meaning was clear.

Claire gave Eleanor a small smile. "Mrs. Smith, Aria isn't as terrible as you all think. I believe she's quite worthy of being Aiden's wife."

Eleanor was momentarily speechless. This made no sense whatsoever.

"Claire, darling, did you hit your head when you fell? The merger between your family and the Carters was arranged three years ago. You yourself said you were quite fond of Aiden. If things had gone according to plan, you two would be engaged this year."

She leaned closer, lowering her voice. "Now this woman has swooped in and taken your place, and you're defending her? I don't understand."

Claire looked Eleanor directly in the eyes. "But Aria really is a good person," she said firmly.

Eleanor opened her mouth to argue further, then closed it again, completely at a loss for words.

What in the world was happening here?

The night's events spread like wildfire through New York's elite social circles. Almost everyone found Claire's behavior incomprehensible.

Aria had undeniably been the center of attention tonight. From her stunning entrance with Aiden, to the jaw-dropping $55 million "Beyond Compare" necklace adorning her throat, to the dramatic incident with Claire - she'd made quite the impression.

The necklace in particular had catapulted Aria into the broader public consciousness. Someone had snapped photos and posted them on social media, and within just three hours, #MrsCarter was trending at number five nationwide.

The car pulled into the private underground garage of Aiden's penthouse building. Throughout the ride, his hand had stayed on my thigh, his thumb making small, maddening circles on my skin that sent electricity shooting through my body with each touch.

"We're home, sir," the driver announced, breaking the heated tension that had filled the car.

Aiden's eyes hadn't left mine for the last several minutes of the drive. "Thank you, James," he said, his voice husky. "That will be all for tonight."

---

Aria's POV

We stepped out of the car, and the moment the elevator doors closed behind us, Aiden had me pressed against the mirrored wall, his mouth capturing mine in a kiss that made my knees buckle. His hands gripped my waist, then slid lower, lifting me effortlessly until my legs wrapped around his hips.

"God, I've wanted to do this all night," he growled against my neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin there.

I gasped, my head falling back, breathless. "You didn't exactly hide it."

Aiden pulled back just enough to look at me, his eyes dark, stormy with desire. "Can you blame me? You in that dress... I barely survived dinner."

The elevator pinged, announcing our arrival. Still holding me close, Aiden stepped out and carried me through the grand hallway of his private villa. The marble floors gleamed beneath the soft chandelier light.

He kicked the front door shut behind us without breaking stride, carrying me straight toward the my bedroom, his mouth never straying far from mine.

But just as we reached the edge of the plush bed, he paused. His eyes searched mine, then drifted to the damp strands of hair clinging to my neck.

"Wait," he said, gently setting me down. "Your hair's still wet."

I blinked, caught off guard. "What?"

"You'll catch a cold." His tone softened, already reaching for a nearby towel. "Come here. Let me dry it first."

I stared at him for a second, heart still racing from everything that had just happened—and everything that nearly had. But the tenderness in his voice melted something inside me.

"You're seriously going to stop making out with me to blow-dry my hair?" I teased, stepping closer.

He smirked, brushing a damp lock from my cheek. "I'm seriously not letting you get sick. I want you in my bed, not sneezing in it."

I laughed, leaning into his touch. "Okay, fine. Blow-dry away."

Aiden led me to a nearby chair, retrieving a sleek hair dryer from the adjoining bathroom.

As the warm air hummed around us and his fingers gently worked through my hair, I found myself watching him in the mirror—shirt sleeves rolled up, brow furrowed in concentration.

I couldn't believe Aiden would actually dry my hair for me.

As I sat on the edge of the chair, feeling his fingers run through my wet strands while the warm air from the hairdryer enveloped me, my body tingled with unexpected pleasure.

This was such an intimate gesture—one I never imagined he'd perform.

"There," he said, his voice dropping lower as he switched off the hairdryer. "All dry now."

I turned my head slightly, our faces suddenly too close. "Thanks," I whispered, unable to look away from his intense gaze.

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