Free Web NovelChapter 82: Chapter 82: Not a Lover
"You weren’t answering your phone or replying to my texts. How do you think I got here?" freewebnovёl.ƈom
The man’s tone was laced with displeasure, his expression dark.
Sophie Shaw digested his words for a moment, frowning. "Is there some law that says I have to answer your calls and reply to your texts?"
"..."
"How did you find me?"
Alaric Blackwood’s lips parted, but before he could speak, Sophie Shaw interjected, "You didn’t plant a tracker on me or something, did you?"
’How else could he have found me so precisely?’
"No."
"Oh. In that case, Mr. Blackwood, please see yourself out."
Alaric Blackwood didn’t move. He glanced at the cold, half-eaten barbecue on the table and the empty beer case underneath it, then turned to Preston Chase. "Order some food. And another case of canned beer."
Preston Chase nodded, immediately pulling out his phone to place the order.
Alaric Blackwood shrugged off his overcoat, handed it to Preston Chase, and strode toward Sophie Shaw.
He shoved the groping hand off Sophie Shaw’s shoulder and wrapped his own arm around her.
Sophie was about to bat his hand away, but his large hand slid smoothly from her shoulder to her waist. He then steered her toward the dining table.
Ethan Austin, still standing in the same spot, rolled his eyes dramatically.
He knew who Alaric Blackwood was, having seen his photos online. And while this was their first time meeting in person, he’d heard his sister, Anne, talk about the man—Nina Halloway’s lover.
When he heard Sophie was getting married, especially to a scoundrel like that, he’d been furious. He felt slightly better after finding out it was a contract marriage between Sophie and Alaric Blackwood, but he still couldn’t stand the guy. That’s why he’d skipped the wedding, leaving only Anne to attend as the bridesmaid.
He narrowed his eyes, shooting Alaric Blackwood a sideways glare.
Watching the man help Sophie sit down before taking his seat, he swaggered over and slapped a hand on Alaric Blackwood’s shoulder. "That’s my seat."
"Kid, go sit by the coffee table."
"?"
Ethan Austin stared, wide-eyed and uncomprehending, a million question marks floating over his head.
"Don’t you understand?"
Alaric Blackwood’s expression softened a little. "I’m telling you to sit at the kids’ table."
"..."
Ethan felt a profound sense of contempt and humiliation. But before his anger could erupt, two black-suited bodyguards flanked him, grabbed his arms, and dragged him over to the living room sofa, where they tossed him down.
He refused to accept this, jerking up to his feet, only to be forced back down onto the couch by the bodyguards’ hands on his shoulders.
"This is my house!"
he roared at Alaric Blackwood.
The latter shot him an indifferent glance. "And? Kids sit at the kids’ table."
"How am I a kid? I’m twenty-two years old!"
Alaric Blackwood ignored him, sweeping his gaze over the young men still gathered around the table. "Anyone under twenty-three, move to the kids’ table."
The words had barely left his mouth when, with a CLATTER of chairs, everyone at the table—except for Alaric Blackwood and Sophie Shaw—got up. In the blink of an eye, they had all dutifully reassembled around the coffee table, sitting in neat order.
Sophie didn’t move. For one, her mind was still struggling to catch up. For another, she was exactly twenty-three.
She turned to Alaric Blackwood in astonishment. "What do you think you’re doing?"
"Eating with you."
"Did I ask you to?"
"Or would you rather have these eight keep you company?"
Alaric had counted them the moment he walked in. Including Ethan Austin, there were a total of eight young men, all pretty boys in their early twenties.
"So, Mrs. Blackwood, you like them young?"
Having dinner with eight "puppy dogs" in attendance was tantamount to having his husbandly pride stomped into the dirt.
His lips curved into what looked like a smile, but his eyes, dark as ink and chillingly deep, betrayed it. It was a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
His gaze made Sophie’s skin crawl.
"I’m twenty-six. Not quite thirty. That’s young enough, isn’t it? Hmm?"
"..."
Sophie Shaw pursed her lips, momentarily at a loss for words.
The food Preston Chase ordered arrived quickly: two deluxe hot pot delivery sets, another case of canned beer, and even a chef who came along to pull fresh noodles.
Preston Chase quickly cleared the dining table. He took the leftover barbecue to the kitchen, heated it in the microwave, then divided it into two portions, delivering one to the main table and the other to the "kids’ table."
At the "kids’ table," everyone except Ethan Austin was blissfully swishing food in the hot pot. No one paid any mind to Sophie and Alaric; as long as there was food and drink, they were happy.
Ethan sulked, cracking open a beer and chugging it while glaring relentlessly at Alaric Blackwood.
’So annoying.’
’Waltzing into someone else’s house and acting like he owns the place.’
’What a pain in the ass.’
No matter how he looked at it, he couldn’t stand Alaric Blackwood. Alaric, in turn, noticed his provocative stare but was completely unfazed, ignoring him outright.
He surreptitiously pulled out his phone, recorded a quick video, and sent it to Anne, who was away in Pinewood.
She replied almost instantly. "What’s going on?"
He typed back furiously. "Sophie’s contract husband just showed up uninvited. He’s being a total jackass."
Anne sent back a shocked facepalm emoji.
Ethan: "So what if he has money? It doesn’t change the fact that he’s a spoiled, rich prick."
Anne: "Whatever you do, don’t start anything. We can’t afford to mess with someone like him."
Ethan snorted in frustration and kept typing. "Why did Sophie have to marry him anyway?"
Anne: "They had a marriage agreement."
Ethan: "So what if they had an agreement? She doesn’t have to marry him, right? There’s no love between them."
On the other end of the line, Anne was having dinner with Nina Halloway at a private restaurant not far from the film set.
Given Nina Halloway’s status, her assistant had booked a private room. The assistant, who had been working late with her, was there, along with her makeup artist and driver.
Nina Halloway had been in a foul mood lately. She hadn’t genuinely smiled in days, only forcing it for scenes, which cast a gloomy pall over the atmosphere in the room.
She had ordered alcohol, and everyone but the designated driver was drinking with her. Anne had inevitably had a few glasses herself.
The alcohol was just starting to hit her. Seeing the video and messages from her brother, Anne grew worried her reckless younger brother would stir up trouble. She decided to change the subject. "That thing I mentioned last time—about you being Nina Halloway’s bodyguard—when are you going to give me an answer?"
That question was like waving a red flag in front of a bull. Ethan pressed the voice message button and yelled, "That scumbag Nina Halloway? Whoever wants to be her bodyguard can go right ahead, but I’m not doing it! Don’t ever bring this up with me again! I won’t do it! I won’t!"
His voice was loud, the furious, teeth-gritted tone carrying clearly to Alaric Blackwood, whose hand tightened around his chopsticks.
Alaric looked over at Ethan, just in time to see the hot-headed young man furiously toss his phone onto the coffee table, snatch up his beer, and take a long, angry swig.
"Who did you just call a scumbag?"
Alaric couldn’t resist asking, his voice chillingly cold.
Ethan sneered. "I was talking about your lover. Nina Halloway."
"Lover?"
"You two were a trending topic, the subject of rampant rumors. You think we’re all idiots who don’t see how you play around?"
Sophie coughed awkwardly, trying to signal Ethan to shut up.
He, however, deliberately defied her, flashing Alaric a provocative grin. "What’s wrong? Unhappy that I called your lover a scumbag?"
"Extremely unhappy."
Alaric Blackwood set down his chopsticks and rose, striding toward the "kids’ table."
He began rolling up the sleeves of his suit jacket as he walked, his expression dead serious. "First of all, I need to make a correction. Nina Halloway is not my lover."
