The Strange Groom's Cursed Bride
Chapter 89: All eyes on her

Chapter 89: All eyes on her

Linda returned, tossing her ponytail smugly as she held a clipboard. "We’re a bit short in the parking lot," she said, her voice cloyingly sweet, an insult disguised as delegation. "You wouldn’t mind being deployed there, would you, Aurora?"

It hadn’t been a question, so it required no answer.

Alice merely nodded, jaw locked tight, and turned on her heel. Linda smirked, victorious, and sashayed away in search of her next victim.

Alice crossed the open grounds toward the volunteer post near the gates, cones crookedly aligned, paper signage fluttering weakly in the wind. The sun had risen high enough to cast a glare across the pavement, warming the air, smothering her in heat.

The blue vest clung to her like a spotlight. A joke.

She stood by a sign that read "Parking Check-In" and felt, more than ever, unwanted. Unnoticed. Unimportant.

Until the engines purred in.

Then, the ’set’ came.

The cars rolled in with such precision it felt rehearsed. Sleek. Matte. Predatory. They made no noise beyond the low growl of wealth and warning.

The crowd slowed around her. Murmurs rippled like a dropped pebble in still water.

From the first car stepped the Matriarch of the Wildfire family, clad in sculpted cream, face half-hidden behind oversized sunglasses. Her aura chilled the air around her. The Patriarch followed, upright and lethal in his silence, his expression unreadable but laced with disdain. A man who looked like he could bulldoze the entire venue and never break a sweat.

From the second car, Dawin emerged.

Composed. Controlled. Every movement purposeful.

From the third, Van. Dressed in black. Distant. He didn’t glance at his parents. Didn’t acknowledge the event. He walked ahead, untethered.

But Dawin, despite everything, despite the distance and the people already approaching to say their hellos, he scanned the area, his eyes moving with deliberate purpose until they locked with hers.

Her eyes immediately pulled away from him, drawn by an invisible force.

The Matriarch was staring at her, her gaze intense, cold, laced with an unmistakable dislike that now seemed to border on contempt. Alice felt it like a physical blow. The unspoken accusation hung in the air: How dare you move into Block C? But Alice could tell that was not only it. There was something else in the woman’s gaze before she turned to look at Dawin, who was now speaking to a young lady who handed him a vest—

Wait...

Blue.

Blue vest.

Alice looked down at herself. They were on the same team.

Before Alice could process that madness, four more cars rolled up, equally sleek and dark, pulling to a halt in a silent, coordinated ballet.

Two opened simultaneously. Hardy stepped out from one, impeccably dressed, flanked by his sharply dressed sister, Caroline.

Hardy.

The thought of meeting him again unsettled Alice. Because she still had nothing to offer him. No information whatsoever.

Alice’s eyes narrowed slightly at the sight of Caroline, remembering her suspicion about the painting. Caroline’s eyes flicked over the crowd and landed on Alice with veiled contempt.

The Hardy parents emerged from the next car, elegance etched into every movement. Power wrapped in velvet gloves.

And then—

The final two.

The atmosphere thickened like fog rolling in.

Alice didn’t have to look to know.

She felt it.

From the first of the last two, Rowan stepped out, sleeves already rolled to the wrist. Businesslike. Calculated. Gavin followed, flicking nonexistent lint from his jacket, his eyes already scanning like he was memorizing weak spots.

From the final car: Milo.

And then—

Hades.

Stepping out, slow. Precise. Dressed in black. No vest, no house colors, just raw, singular authority.

He didn’t walk. He commanded space.

His eyes didn’t move like a man looking for someone.

They moved like a man who already knew.

Alice’s breath caught.

Too many eyes.

Dawin—still watching her.

The Matriarch—seething.

Hardy—assessing.

Caroline—disdainful.

Hades—

Not even blinking.

Even his shadowmen—Milo, Gavin, Rowan—were looking directly at her. Measuring. Waiting.

She clenched her fists.

Her heart beat against her ribs, a silent scream in the rising morning heat.

Everything inside her screamed to move, to run, to vanish.

But she stood still.

Back straight. Chin tilted just enough to not seem broken. Not yet.

This event had only just begun.

And already, she had a bad feeling about this.

A terrible one.

*****

The field had shifted into organized chaos. Brightly colored vests moved like ants across the lawn. Yellows and greens cheering at different game stations, reds flinging bean bags into hoops. Flags flapped, speakers blared faint music and instructions, and the air smelled like dust, sweat, and sunscreen.

The "big people," however, weren’t part of it. The Matriarch of the Wildfire family sat beneath the shade of a canopied tent labeled Providence Table like a queen surveying her lessers. Her oversized sunglasses never left her face, but everyone could feel the silent lash of her eyes, missing nothing. The Patriarch had already left, bored, perhaps, or simply unwilling to play at commoner games. Van had vanished completely. Caroline looked like she’d rather be anywhere else, her disdain for the proceedings barely concealed. Hardy chatted with people. So did Dawin.

And Hades...

Hades sat, unreadable, on a raised pavilion alongside Rowan, Gavin, and Milo. He looked like a dignitary dragged into a village fair, his presence an anomaly, a dark, dangerous blot on the vibrant landscape.

Alice spotted him from across the field as she bent to pick up discarded paper fans and crushed water bottles, her movements stiff and mechanical. She had a crumpled flyer in one hand, another shoved into her pocket.

What in the blazes possessed him to show up here? She was still seething from their argument this morning, the raw anger and that other, unnamed emotion twisting in her gut. She muttered under her breath, cursing silently as she passed a group of girls giggling over something.

"Number one on the list, girls, it’s Dawin. Look at that face!" one gushed.

"Hardy is number two. That voice? Ugh."

"No way, Wilson should be second."

"But have you seen Hades? He’s like... sin incarnate," another whispered, a reverent awe in her tone.

The low hum of fascinated speculation always returned to Hades. The mysterious Hades, shrouded in rumors and an almost terrifying magnetism. People talked about how hot he was, the sheer, undeniable presence he exuded. And then, their eyes would inevitably flick to Alice, giving her the bombastic side-eye, the universal glare reserved for the pauper who had dared to get lucky, to somehow ensnare the attention of such powerful men.

"A girl like her? Seriously?"

"She must’ve gotten pregnant or something."

"The whole marriage must be fake. There’s no way."

Alice could only scoff.

Bunch of idiots.

Her steps slowed when she noticed the scoreboards posted at the side: the blue team hadn’t won a single game so far. A fresh wave of useless frustration washed over her.

"Blue team, move to the track for the three-legged pair race!" the loudspeaker blared, its cheerful tone a cruel mockery.

After the three-legged race was the main event, the grand race where she would be running. She was already dreading all this when Linda, face flushed from a fresh coat of lip gloss, marched over with her ever-present clipboard.

"Aurora," she cooed with mock enthusiasm, her smile stretched unnaturally tight. "Other team members are... busy. So, you’re up for this. I’m sure you can do this and the next race." Her eyes gleamed with triumphant malice.

Alice blinked. "What—"

"No excuses." Linda’s tone hardened, her face barely holding back a victorious smirk. "Get in position. I already sent your name to them."

Alice opened her mouth, but the words died in her throat. She could only scoff in disbelief, a small, bitter sound. Fine.

Alice stepped out reluctantly onto the marked track, past clusters of volunteers and spectators, heads turning, whispers following her like a shadow. She stood there awkwardly at the end of the lane, a solitary figure.

Alone.

No pair.

Every other team had their pairs except her. The blatant sabotage, the public humiliation, settled heavily in her chest.

Her arms were crossed, her face tight, her eyes scanning the ground. She could feel the smugness radiating from Linda’s side of the team.

Again, Alice could not understand why the would want to make her lose when it would be their entire team losing. But then, these people really did not care about any of this in the first place.

She was just starting to wonder if Linda planned to have her publicly disqualified for having no pair, when footsteps approached from the opposite end of her lane.

Wearing the same vibrant blue vest as her, a stark contrast to his usual pristine attire.

Dawin.

He stopped beside her, his presence calm, collected, like he belonged there. Like this was already decided.

All eyes, including Alice’s, snapped to Dawin. He stood tall, his expression unreadable, radiating an effortless authority that seemed to silence the surrounding chatter. Linda’s triumphant smirk dissolved into a mask of stunned disbelief, her face momentarily slack.