Chapter 120 Good News
“Congratulations!”
Everyone beamed, bottles of champagne were opened, a cheer echoed in the venue where reception was being held.
The ballroom music finally faded into a loud, booming but romantic melody. The air was thick with the lingering excitement of the night.
Clapping, Peach was enjoying to the fullest as Luke offered her his hand.
“Are you sure you can dance in this? You might trip,”
“Don’t worry, I have it all sorted out. This top layer can be removed and then it will be short length,”
Smirking victoriously, she snapped twice and her PA removed the train and upper layer of the dress, leaving it in a short-length sexy but elegant dress.
“Like this,”
“Amazing. And damn, this looks even prettier. Come, let’s dance,” Luke called, turning to leave but she held his arm.
“Not like this, ask me more nicely,”
“No.” He winked, taking her wrist and leading them to the floor, gaining all the attention with a challenging expression.
Wrapping her hands around his neck, dancing along to the rhythm of the music, sinking in his attractive hazel eyes, she leaned dangerously closer to kiss his neck.
“My, my, so are you going to take advantage of your rights as my husband to boss me around?”
Only to be greeted with an unforeseen dominance. Holding her waist, he spun her around, snuggling to her neck, inhaling deeply, sending an uncontrollable spark down her spine.
“My dear bride, we both know,”
Instead, he implanted the intense kiss on her neck which made her moan that she suppressed by biting her cheek, feeling his arousal that flushed her madly.
“I don’t need a title of husband to make you do what ‘I’ want,” Luke spoke of an undeniable reality that made her lower her gaze in defeat.
She knew that too but declination was no longer an option either.
“But now it just won’t be as subtle as it used to be. I will do it openly now,”
Overusing his authority, his hand smoothly moved across her side, matching the movements with hers, parting his lips slightly after a satisfactory kiss.
Before she could realize something was off, he hugged her firmly, softening his tone immediately.
“And you will do it, won't you? For me?”
“Mhm,”
“Ah, that’s my girl,”
Smirking victoriously, confirming when she was under his spell entirely, they both danced, being at the center of attention, receiving endless rooting from everyone.
After a delightful dance, they decided to grab something to drink where Arabella and William were already present.
They exchanged a nod.
“Ah, I think my hair is slightly messy,” Peach giggled, lifting a hand to her swept-up strawberry blonde locks.
“That’s what happens when the couple brings fire to the stage,” he laughed breathlessly.
He loosened his bow tie with a jaunty smile, ruffled his hair before glancing at the couple, deliberately showing off his happiness.
Arabella’s grip tightened on her glass and to piss her off more, Luke turned.
“What about you two? Aren’t you going to dance?”
“We were dancing too. You just didn’t notice,” Arabella muttered, taking a sip of her drink, unable to suppress the bitterness.
“Really? Sorry about that,” Luke smiled wickedly.
He immediately turned his attention back to Peach, his face lighting up again, “Here, let me help with your hair.”
Arabella watched closely, eyes narrowed in disgust which was broken when William placed his hand firmly on her shoulder to stop.
“So, what are your plans now?” She cut in, needing to disrupt their perfect moment.
Luke’s grin widened, the picture of a smug, victorious groom.
“I have booked us a honeymoon suite. We will go there and leave for our honeymoon next week.” Luke enunciated proudly.
“It is the golden period of every marriage after all, we will enjoy it to the fullest, won’t we?”
“Obviously,”
Golden period. The word mocked her, whose marriage had been tarnished and cold since the day they signed the marriage papers.
She had to say something.
She had to win this tiny battle.
“Oh, really? Good for you two,” Arabella said, injecting a forced enthusiasm into her voice.
“I also have good news.”
Luke and Peach exchanged an interested glance, “Really? What?”
Arabella slipped her arm through William’s, holding tight to his sleeve. She could feel the stiffness in his body still didn’t let go.
“William and I are going on our honeymoon too,” She announced, her eyes fixed on Luke, daring him to challenge her.
William, standing beside her, was completely blindsided. Blinking, he leaned down, at her ears.
“Are we?” The single word he managed was low, a strained question directed at his wife.
Arabella squeezed his arm hard, a silent warning to not interfere.
“Yes, we are,”
“Alright,” Luke cleared this throat, maintaining the charming frontage, “Good luck,”
“Hmm, you too,”
Soon, the newlywed couple finally departed, leaving William and Arabella standing alone on the edge of the emptying ballroom.
William pulled his arm away from her grasp, his expression unreadable, confused only.
“Why did you do that? What are you trying to prove by this?”
“That I am happy in my marriage too,” She argued.
“Which you are not but you are desperate to show that. And for what? Or are you just proving to me right that you are love-hungry?” William hissed, disliking where she was leading all this.
“Love hungry? Yes, for you. Badly. And I…”
She hissed back, though her eyes were glaring, her body was loosened, aura submerged in desperation, emitting endless sorrow.
Reading through her openly, William’s gaze softened, “And you..?”
Arabella’s lip trembled. She was tired of the game, tired of the wall.
She stepped closer, placing a hand gently on his pristine lapel, “I feel jealous,” She admitted.
Her voice broke, begging for a flicker of response, “I want my man too. I want you, William.”
She tightened her fingers on his jacket, “Can we go on our honeymoon, please?”
He sighed, running a hand over the back of his neck, a gesture of exhaustion, stepping back in defeat, trying to sound rude.
“Where do you want to go?”
“Away. Far away. Away from this world, from that apartment.” She pleaded, her voice dropping to a whisper.
“Where I want you to promise me you will treat me as your wife. Where there will be just you and me. But, how ‘I’ want, not you,”
And it caught his attention. Furrowing his brows, he wasn’t against the honeymoon part but the condition invoked sourness.
“You really love testing me, hmm? Asking what I least want to provide,” He frowned.
“Don’t I deserve it? Please?”
He was silent for a long moment, the conflict playing across his usually composed features but amid the pleading, he saw a path.
Her demeanor evoked a wicked thought.
It was pumping him. Her, pleading with him? Oh, how delightful.
Of course he wanted to go too but he wouldn't give her a definite 'yes,' not when she was demanding it on her terms.
“We will see,”
The best he could offer was a slight opening…. So she could beg for it.