Dark Revenge Of A Jilted Bride: Till Life Do Us Part!-Chapter 50: Curiosity

Spider’s amused expression as he turned to Gianna confirmed what she had already suspected, the certainty settling quietly in her chest.

Zane had really come here to talk about Noah.

Insecure much? Desperate much? Or wasn’t he the wealthy fellow who needed no-one again?

"Why?" she continued casually, deliberately casual, filling her second glass with orange juice, watching the liquid rise as though it mattered more than the answer. "Is he feeling threatened?"

Spider shook his head with a soft laugh, one corner of his mouth lifting as he reached for his fork again. "Of course not, Gianna. Zane just loves having every dot connected. He hates being taken unawares, hates not knowing..."

He paused, chewing, then continued, "He had some questions about the sudden turn-up of Noah Newman in the country, especially in this location of ours..."

Gianna frowned slightly, the skin between her brows creasing as she took a sip of the juice. "And did you find anything?"

Never mind Zane, even she was curious. Noah always made her think of the word ’enigma.’

Spider shrugged, still eating, deliberately taking time to swallow, as if weighing what to say and how much of it to give.

"That he’s not just here because he missed his family. He wants to open a company here—a large one. Maybe institute it as even the headquarters of his other coporations."

He wiped his mouth slowly. "He’s already bought a large mass of land for building. But before then, he bought one of the buildings on the east side..."

Gianna’s lips pressed into a thin line, already picturing one of those overly priced monstrosities pushed by greedy estate developers, all glass and ego. "The tallest one?"

Spider nodded.

She wasn’t surprised. That was the only one that would fit the kind of ambition Noah carried like a second skin.

"So," she murmured, mostly to herself, "he is really doing it then..."

"Yes. Already the employees are filing in... investors too. His portfolio speaks for him." Spider glanced at her briefly. "I take it you’ve done the nominal research on him?"

Gianna inclined her head slightly. "He has companies overseas. Well-known business tycoon."

"Good," Spider said. "And the happening at the charity organization solidified his standing. Gave him an in with the top one percent." He chuckled softly. "Without even doing anything, he’s already climbing the ranks."

A pause.

"There’s a rumour," Spider continued, lowering his voice just a little, "that he might start something in the jewelry line, in addition to what he already does..."

Gianna’s brows lifted immediately.

"He wants to compete with the Becketts?" she asked, incredulous. "Rocky relationship in the family then?"

Her thoughts flickered back to the previous night—to Mason’s expression, the tightness in his jaw, the barely concealed irritation when he saw his cousin.

Was it because Noah had been with her? Or was it something else entirely? Something deeper? Was there trouble in paradise?

"Not sure," Spider said. "I haven’t really dug past the surface. Do you want me to?"

Gianna pursed her lips, thinking. If Zane hadn’t gone digging, then maybe she shouldn’t either.

Maybe it was better to respect Noah’s acumen, to let time reveal what it always did. No need to rush the reveal.

"Not at all," she said finally. "Let’s all just see how it goes. It’s not like he’s the first person to build something from the ground up."

Dinner wound down slowly after that, conversation drifting to lighter topics, laughter filling spaces that had earlier been heavy. Plates were cleared, dessert declined more than accepted.

Eventually, Gianna rose. "Thank you, everyone," she said, smiling genuinely. "I’m going to retire early."

A chorus of goodnights followed her, Florence reminding her—again—to rest properly, Chelsea winking theatrically, Areso blowing her a kiss.

She felt lighter as she retrieved her bag from the sitting-room sofa, fingers curling around the strap like an anchor, and headed upstairs. Her room welcomed her with quiet and shadows.

She ran a long bath first, after discarding her clothes, sinking into the heat, letting the water loosen muscles she hadn’t realized were clenched so tightly.

She stayed there longer than she should have, staring at the ceiling, thoughts drifting back—unbidden—to the valuables she had lost.

She cussed, and pushed the thought and the feelings it came with to the side. She didn’t need her mood getting dampened; she still had work.

So, her mind presented Noah Newman.

She sighed, deciding it was time to leave the bathroom.

When she stepped out, wrapped in a towel, her phone lit up on the bedside table.

Noah Newman calling.

Her brows furrowed. Speak of the devil.

She stared at the screen, surprised despite herself. He hadn’t said he would call, hadn’t said much after apologizing for his sister’s rudeness.

Yet, it was too late. She didn’t take calls after nine unless it was family or an emergency.

Best not to give him ideas. Best not to open doors she wasn’t ready to monitor.

She let the call ring out.

Drying her hair, she tried to shake him off her thoughts. Tried and failed.

She was just about to slip into bed, to rest for some minutes, when something else struck her: The collection.

Areso. Her heart picked up.

She grabbed her phone and left the room, padding softly down the hallway. She stopped at Areso’s door, listening. The sound of running water confirmed it. Her friend was bathing.

Gianna sighed and went in anyway, perching on the edge of the bed, waiting.

Areso emerged several minutes later, hair wrapped in a towel, humming to herself.

"You look like you’re plotting murder," she said lightly, when she spotted Gianna.

"I might be." Gianna pulled out her phone and opened the folder, turning the screen toward her friend.

Jewelry designs bloomed across the display—Vance’s designs.

"I need your help, Ari..."

Areso’s smile spread slowly, eyes lighting as she stared, already picking up what Gianna wanted. "Oh," she breathed. "Oh."

"I need you," Gianna continued. "A dress. Something that matches the theme. Not overpowering. Not submissive. Something that speaks."

Areso nodded slowly, sat down beside her, and stared into space now. A smile played at her lips, her mind already gone elsewhere, already creating.

Gianna noted this, satisfaction curling in her chest. Good. Her friend’s mind wheels were turning.

And when Areso finally looked back at her, eyes bright and hungry with ideas, Gianna knew—absolutely—that this collection was going to be dangerous.