The Strange Groom's Cursed Bride
Chapter 94: What’s wrong with the Wildfire young masters?

Chapter 94: What’s wrong with the Wildfire young masters?

"What?!" Van’s eyes snapped open, his voice sharp with genuine shock. His ’informant,’ a housekeeper he’d seduced with practiced charm, hovered nervously at the edge of the pool, her gaze lingering on his almost naked body as he floated in the shimmering water.

She had just delivered news that an intense fight had erupted between the Matriarch and Dawin. Dawin, she reported, looked like he’d been hit, and items in their mother’s study were destroyed. She believed Dawin had done that in retaliation.

Van pushed himself out of the pool, water sluicing from his muscled form. He couldn’t believe it. There was no way Dawin and their mother would ever fight. Never would she hit him. Dawin was her precious, perfect kid, the golden heir she doted on, the one she would never so much as raise her voice to, let alone strike.

"What happened?" he demanded aloud, his mind already racing, trying to piece together the unbelievable scenario.

The woman, her apprehension palpable, nervously held out a tablet. "I’m... not sure, young master. But... earlier, Dawin had joined to participate in a game at the track."

Van was even more shocked. "Dawin? That’s unbelievable." His brother didn’t do useless things. Dawin was pragmatic, calculated, never indulging in frivolous pursuits unless there was a clear, strategic advantage.

She passed the tablet to Van, who snatched it, his eyes immediately drawn to the screen. A short clip played, filmed discreetly from the crowd. Dawin and Aurora, bound at the ankles, running the three-legged race. The way he looked at her, the way he held her, his smile, the lingering closeness that was far too intimate for casual acquaintances.

Ah!

HA!!!

A slow smile spread across Van’s face, a dawning comprehension replacing his shock. It started as a low chuckle, then built into full, booming laughter that echoed off the tiled walls of the pool enclosure. He laughed so hard, tears pricked the corners of his eyes, the sound unrestrained and almost maniacal, a stark contrast to the earlier tension.

This was going to be interesting.

And... oh well, bloody.

Dawin, their perfectly controlled, emotionless older brother, the unshakeable rock of their family, had a weakness. And out of everything, his weakness had to be none other than his near-wife, Aurora. Who was now Hades’s wife.

Van felt a surge of exhilaration. He wouldn’t need to do anything. Even if Hades didn’t like his wife, Van knew him to an extent. Hades would never allow anyone to take away something he felt belonged to him. It had been that way since they were kids. Even Dawin knew it.

Dawin was playing with fire.

The housekeeper looked at Van, her expression hopeful. Seeing him so pleased with this news made her pleased. Maybe today, he would finally show her some love? She had risked her life several times to pass information to him. But she had gotten no more rewards except a smile. Or worse, a head pat. It wasn’t as though she wasn’t beautiful, she thought, a spark of annoyance igniting. It was beginning to annoy her, this constant wondering why he wasn’t planning to go further with her.

Usually, useless sons like him did nothing else apart from living a life of debauchery. Yes, he always lived that way, but as for women? They barely ever heard anything concerning him with a lady. He drank and returned home drunk. Partied and returned home. Flirted and returned home. She had even witnessed him shove a pretty girl away who tried to kiss him.

What was wrong with the entire Wildfire young masters?

Could he... be gay and just using her?

Once again, he turned to look at her with those lovely eyes as he handed her the tablet. And then, he dismissed her with a curt nod.

She gritted her teeth in anger, her hopes once again dashed.

Arrgh!

****

"I’m just saying," Milo muttered, still shaking his head. "She doesn’t do sports." His voice was quiet.

Rowan, who had been lazily sipping his drink, squinted. "Huh?"

"I said, Aurora. Doesn’t. Do. Sports," Milo repeated slowly, enunciating each word. "She’s all fainting spells and book clubs and ’too delicate’ ankles."

"Are you out of your mind?" Gavin said quietly, his gaze dark. "How dare you call her by name?"

Milo bit his lip.

He forgot sometimes. They had been peacefully calling her Aurora the whole time, but now, seeing how their boss was beginning to not act like their boss around her anymore, it only made sense that they accorded her that respect.

Rowan leaned back on the bleacher railing, a brow quirking. "Well, either Miss Boss was faking it before or... she had a serious resurrection over the weekend." He chuckled, a genuine note of surprise in his voice.

The three of them turned to look in the direction Hades had taken her.

"I mean, maybe she got better," Rowan offered weakly, though doubt coiled in his gut.

"Hmm." Milo’s frown didn’t leave his face. His phone buzzed, and he quickly opened a text. "Clarisse is back."

The two young men looked interested in that piece of information.

"I’m returning with the Boss. He asks that you both remain and watch the Miss," Milo said, already gathering his things, a mischievous glint in his eye as he glanced at Gavin.

Gavin looked obviously displeased by that. His arms, usually casually crossed, tightened further.

Milo paused as he looked at Gavin. "Also, do not forget to keep an eye on Miss Suzy!" Before Gavin’s glare could even leave any impact, Milo was already on his way, quickly, sticking out a tongue in playful defiance.

Rowan looked at Gavin awkwardly. "I guess it’s just us then..."

Gavin offered no reply, his expression unreadable, eyes fixed on the distant figures on the field.

"Do you even have a favorite food?" Rowan asked, attempting to fill the silence.

Gavin didn’t answer.

Rowan, undeterred, pressed on. "So... do you have any favorite colors—"

"Red." Gavin answered immediately, his voice flat, devoid of inflection.

Rowan needed more power. He swallowed a large gulp of his drink, his gaze fixed on Gavin.

Gavin turned to look at him, leaning closer, his voice dropping to a low, unsettling whisper. "Would you like to know why I like red?"

Rowan shut up from his seat instantly, a sudden chill creeping down his spine.

"The... following games are in the indoor court. Let’s go." Rowan muttered, already scrambling to his feet.

Rowan was ahead, muttering under his breath about how Gavin always acted like a psychopath. He could never get used to him.

Rowan was no shaman, but he could perfectly tell Gavin’s future.

Gavin would most likely end up alone.

*****

The swimming competition was in full swing. The male category had just ended, and the screams still echoed across the indoor aquatic stadium. Wet abs and dripping chests had sent the ladies into a frenzy. Towels were being whipped playfully, water flung, giggles echoing like mating calls.

Suzy wasn’t amused. She had just stormed out of the locker area after overhearing a cluster of girls again dragging Aurora’s name like it was toilet paper. Suzy had rounded on them with narrowed eyes and zero pretense, delivering a sharp, public dressing-down. They’d merely snickered, called her dramatic, and continued their petty gossip.

Then, last-minute, one of the female swimmers for their yellow team dropped out. No explanation why or anything. Just, "This is boring and I’m out." That was how Suzy found herself here, being asked to compete. She had been asked and wanted to say no by default. But she needed an outlet to vent. Also, Aurora’s earlier triumph had ignited a competitive spark in her. So she dropped her drink, a half-finished blue concoction, and went to change.

When Suzy stepped out in her swimsuit, there was a beat of silence. Not because she looked scandalous, quite the opposite.

While the other girls sported slick, body-highlighting cut-outs and low backs despite the presence of parents and younger kids there, Suzy was dressed in a black full-coverage racing suit, complete with a modest swim skirt that still hugged her hips with disarming precision. Her figure looked carved, strong and athletic beneath the conservative fabric. Her hair was tucked into a cap, face bare, but her presence was undeniable.

"Holy—" Rowan whispered from the bleachers, gripping his juice tighter, his eyes wide. If Milo was still here, he would probably have a nosebleed by now.

Even Gavin looked up. He didn’t say anything. He just looked, his gaze lingering for a fraction of a second, and then looked away, his expression returning to its usual neutrality.

Suzy felt it too. The heat. The stares. The twisting knot in her belly. She was not one to get nervous because of useless things like this. But her stomach was not settling. A dull pressure began at her lower abdomen, spreading in tight, nauseating waves.

Haters, particularly those from the rival teams, sneered openly, their whispers audible even over the din. "Look at her," one hissed, a disdainful curl to her lip, "Does she think she’s going to a chapel?"

Her stomach got worse. Much worse. The dull pressure sharpened, a desperate urgency now.