Chapter 12 Fighting at the Banquet
Aria had just returned to the dining table, her legs weak, nearly dropping her knife and fork.
She was done for—Arthur was already suspicious.
But she absolutely couldn't let him know about this.
She feigned surprise. "Of course not. If I were pregnant, would I hide it from you? It's just gastroenteritis."
Arthur wasn't convinced. Maybe she wasn't hiding anything, but what if she didn't even realize it herself? He was about to press further when Elizabeth interrupted.
"Enough," she scolded. "Aria said she's not, so she's not. Don't interrogate her. You need to respect her, understand?"
Elizabeth could tell at a glance that her daughter-in-law was having a spat with her son.
Arthur, afraid of upsetting his mother, could only nod and let it go.
After dinner, the two naturally stayed overnight.
The master bedroom on the second floor was spacious and luxurious, with a large balcony.
Aria walked into the room, biting her lip, anxiously thinking.
Earlier, with Elizabeth's help, Arthur hadn't dared say anything.
But he'd be coming back to the room soon.
Since he was already suspicious, she had to find a way to eliminate his doubts.
She walked into the bathroom and closed the door.
She bit her lip, pulled a pin from her pocket, and pricked her finger.
Squeezing hard, blood dripped onto toilet paper, soaking nearly half the sheet.
Then she folded the paper in half and tossed it into the waste basket by the toilet.
The door opened—Arthur had come in.
Aria called out loudly. "Arthur, can you find me some pads? I got my period!"
Through the door, her voice was too muffled, and Arthur couldn't quite hear.
Without thinking much, he turned the bathroom doorknob and saw Aria sitting on the toilet.
His expression froze as he remembered what she'd said.
"Your period? You..."
So... the vomiting, the discomfort, the changed tastes—had he just been overthinking everything?
A wave of disappointment washed over him.
Aria nodded awkwardly.
Suddenly everything felt meaningless to him.
He responded coldly. "Alright, I'll ask the staff. If you're not feeling well, get some rest early."
After he left, Aria finally breathed a sigh of relief.
But what followed was a wave of bitterness and sadness.
A few days later, Grant Corporation's charity gala took place as scheduled.
The event was held at the company's most upscale hotel.
Aria, as the nominal hostess and actual organizer, arrived early at the venue.
Despite being tormented by early pregnancy symptoms, she still dressed herself impeccably for the occasion.
Her gown was dignified and elegant, leaving nothing to criticize.
Guests arrived one after another, and Arthur, as the host, was naturally surrounded by people.
Sophie also attended in formal dress, mingling among the guests in her capacity as the newly appointed director.
In the past, she would have eagerly clung to Arthur's arm, trying to outshine the real Mrs. Grant.
But after being humiliated at the Grant family estate that night, she no longer had the face to throw herself at Arthur.
Her gaze occasionally drifted toward Aria, full of jealous hatred.
Everything had been going smoothly until just before the auction segment began.
Connor Smith approached Arthur, who was socializing, with an unhappy expression.
"Mr. Grant!" His tone was controlled, but clearly dissatisfied. "The seating arrangement this time—wasn't it poorly thought out? Are you deliberately trying to make things difficult for our family?"
Arthur looked around, didn't see anything wrong, and was confused.
"Why would you say that?"
"Our family's seats—why were we placed next to the Lees?"
He lowered his voice. "Don't you know that he and I have been at odds over that plot of land in the west district?"
"That guy was just mocking me!"
Hearing this, Arthur's expression darkened too.
The two families were indeed on very bad terms, practically at each other's throats.
He looked toward Aria, who was checking the auction item list in the distance.
Had she done this on purpose? To get back at Sophie?
As soon as this thought occurred to him, Arthur's expression grew darker.
"I'm sorry, Uncle Connor. Someone below probably overlooked it during the arrangements."
Arthur tried to smooth things over. "I'll have it adjusted right away."
Connor's expression improved slightly. "I appreciate it. It's not that I'm being petty, but at such a grand gala, everyone's watching!"
At that moment, Sophie also walked over, taking her father's arm, her tone full of grievance and helplessness.
"Arthur, don't blame my dad for being upset. It's just that your wife was too careless."
Arthur just nodded. "I understand. I'll handle it."
He beckoned his assistant over and gave quiet instructions. The assistant immediately went to coordinate the seating adjustments. After dealing with that, Arthur's gaze landed on Aria.
She was standing by the champagne tower, talking to a man.
The man was good-looking, wearing a suit, leaning in slightly.
He was speaking to Aria in a standard London accent, smiling broadly.
Then he actually performed a hand-kiss gesture toward Aria.
Taking all this in, Arthur's eyes grew increasingly dangerous.
That man was smiling in such a frivolous, dissolute way—couldn't Aria see it?
Didn't she always hate this type of person?
So why was she chatting and laughing with him now?
Arthur strode toward the two of them, the dark aura around him making nearby guests turn to look.
Ignoring that they were still talking, Arthur stepped forward and pulled Aria into his arms. He looked at the man, his gaze carrying a dangerous warning. "Sir, how is it I didn't know you were so familiar with my wife?"