Trapped in a Secret Marriage with a Dangerous Billionaire - Chapter 119

Chapter 119: Invitation From the Old House

TUESDAY.

The Swift’s Residence.

Stella stormed into the dining room, her heels clicking sharply against the tiled floor, her face flushed with anger. As her gaze landed on Stephanie calmly sipping her tea at the head of the table, she didn’t bother with pleasantries.

“I heard you made Aurora the COO of Vintage Cellar!” Stella’s voice trembled with rage, her hands curling into fists. “Why would you do a thing like that?”

Stephanie’s eyes flicked up, her expression calm. She set her teacup down with a measured grace, her voice cool and unbothered. “Good morning to you too, Mrs. Swift. I assume you don’t expect me to answer that question.”

“Oh, I do!” Stella’s voice rose as she slammed her palms onto the table, the vibrations rattling the silverware. “In fact, I demand it as you’re in my house!”

“Wrong!” Stephanie snapped her gaze to her, her tone icy. “This place remains my brother’s and now, it’s ours to run. So, you can’t stand there and demand that I answer your stupid question!”

“Stephanie!” Stella growled, wishing that she could get rid of this hard nut-to-crack sister-in-law’s of hers and finally have all the power and authority to herself.

Stephanie dropped her cutlery, causing the metals to make a ‘clank’ sound as they touched the ceramic plate. “It’s too early to lose your senses. How are you going to cope for the rest of today?” she asked, turning to meet her death stare.

“You!” Stella was tongue-tied for almost a minute. Finally, when she found her voice, she pulled out a seat for herself and settled down. “You must be really proud of yourself to be running Vintage Cellar as you please after your brother bequeathed the rights to you.”

“Proud? Absolutely. It’s the smartest decision he ever made,” Stephanie replied, her tone effortlessly dismissive.

Stella leaned forward, her voice dropping into a menacing whisper. “Mark my words, Stephanie. Don’t even think about passing Vintage Cellar to any of your children. That company belongs to Olivia. And it’s hers to run in the future.”

Stephanie chuckled lightly, the sound tinged with mockery. “Stella, I’m sorry to burst your bubbles, but that ‘future’ you speak of will never come. And the earlier you accept it, the better for you.”

Stella’s hands balled into fists under the table as her composure cracked.

—

The Scott Family’s Old House.

The patio of the old Scott family home was a picture of tranquillity, framed by blooming roses and the distant sound of chirping birds. Richard and Patricia, Owen’s parents, sat with the old Scott couple, enjoying tea under the morning sun.

Patricia set her teacup down abruptly, a thoughtful frown creasing her brow. “Uncle, Aunty, have you spoken to Xander about formally introducing his wife to the family?”

Old Mrs. Scott tilted her head, a soft smile playing on her lips. “I believe he will when the time feels right.”

Patricia’s brows furrowed further. “When will that be, Aunty? He has already introduced her to society during the masquerade ball he hosted for her last Saturday.”

Both Old Mr. and Mrs. Scott paused mid-sip, exchanging surprised glances. “Xander threw a masquerade ball for his wife?”

Richard nodded. “Yes, father. He invited us, but only Owen and Olivia attended. They met his wife. She appears to be a foreigner.”

The revelation left the Scotts momentarily speechless. As soon as Patricia and Richard departed, Old Mrs. Scott picked up her phone and dialled Xander. After two rings, his familiar voice greeted her warmly.

“Mama,” he said.

Her tone was far from welcoming. “So, you’ve decided not to introduce your wife to us? Is that why you haven’t visited?”

Xander’s brows furrowed. “What makes you say that?”

“We heard about the masquerade ball. You introduced her to the entire city but didn’t think of your family. Did you consider how we’d feel?”

Understanding dawned on Xander, and he smiled faintly. “The ball was just for fun, Mama. Besides—”

“Bring your wife to breakfast tomorrow,” Old Mr. Scott interjected sternly, taking the phone from his wife. Before Xander could respond, the call ended.

Old Mrs. Scott sighed, her hands trembling slightly. “Do you think he will come?”

Her husband’s voice was firm. “He is our son. He knows we’re right. He has no other choice.”

—

Xander’s Residence.

Xander set his phone down with a sigh and turned to Aurora, who sat next to him, dressed impeccably in a white suit.

“My parents are upset,” he began, his voice laced with regret. “They want us to join them for breakfast tomorrow. They feel slighted because I introduced you to society before them.”

Aurora’s expression softened. “Their feelings are valid,” she admitted with a gentle smile. “We owe them this visit.”

Xander nodded. “But breakfast? We will be late for work.”

Aurora waved a dismissive hand. “It doesn’t matter. We owe them this much. I’ll pick up some gifts on my way home.”

Her sincerity brought a smile to his lips. “You’re incredible, you know that?”

—

Vintage Cellar.

Aurora arrived at Vintage Cellar to a grand reception. Staff members lined up outside the building, cheering as Stephanie took Aurora’s hand and led her inside. The atmosphere was electric, with applause echoing through the halls.

Olivia, however, was conspicuously absent, having feigned a stomach ache to hide in the restroom.

Inside Aurora’s new office, a bottle of her Fruit Punch Champagne was opened, and glasses were raised in a celebratory toast. Aurora’s heart swelled with pride as she glanced around the room. Her office overflowed with congratulatory bouquets and gifts, their colours brightening the space.

Stephanie approached her with a proud smile. “Congratulations once again, Aurora. Your father would be so proud.”

Aurora’s smile faltered momentarily as conflicting emotions surged within her. She nodded, murmuring her thanks.

As others lined up to shake her hand, a commanding voice cut through the room.

“Congratulations, Aurora!”

Heads turned toward the door, and Aurora’s breath caught. Olivia entered, her smile strained, but it wasn’t her who stole the spotlight. Standing beside her was Victor, holding a stunning bouquet and radiating charm.

Aurora’s pulse quickened as Victor stepped forward, his gaze locking with hers. The room grew silent, all eyes fixed on the unexpected arrival.

‘What on earth is this bastard doing here?’ Aurora thought to herself as anger surged through her.