Devilish secretary
Chapter 398 Wedding

Chapter 398: Chapter 398 Wedding

"Good," Alan said finally, giving a single nod. "It’s your age to settle down anyway."

"I don’t have any objection," Ana said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper but clear enough for everyone to hear. "If this is what you want, Sebastian..."

She glanced at Lilith, her eyes softening for a heartbeat when they met that striking blue– so piercing, so calm, like they could see right through the mask Ana wore. In that second, something cold coiled tighter in her chest.

But Lilith didn’t give her anything back. No smile, no warmth. just that same unbothered look as she sat by Alexander’s side, her fingers resting lightly on his sleeve, her chin slightly lifted like she was born to belong exactly here.

The silence stretched a moment longer, broken only by Rose’s small, excited giggle.

"I can’t wait for your wedding, brother... and sister-in-law!" Rose blurted out, her voice bubbling with so much innocent excitement that it broke the last bit of tension in the room.

Alan’s lips curved with the barest hint of amusement, while Arthur’s stern eyes softened, just slightly at his granddaughter’s bright grin.

Alexander’s cold face finally eased. He turned to look at Rose, and a small smile, so rare and fleeting, sparked in his eyes. It made him look younger– less like the ruthless Carter heir and more like the older brother Rose still adored so much.

Lilith, too, let a smile touch her lips. It was subtle, just the faint curve that lifted her sharp beauty into something softer, almost warm. Sister-in-law. She liked how it sounded, how naturally it slipped from Rose’s mouth. She liked that even in this heavy house.

Meanwhile, Loki curled up like a little loaf on the carpet near Rose’s feet looked up with narrowed feline eyes, his tiny ears twitching in visible annoyance. If a cat could roll its eyes, he would’ve done it ten times by now.

He’d worked so hard, sending this man that fake dream of Lilith marrying the Emperor of Hell — the whole grand vision of her standing like a goddess beside her true mate. He’d gifted him the clearest glimpse of that beautiful future... yet here the fool was, ignoring destiny, stubbornly sticking around to cling to Elder Sister Lilith like a lovesick puppy.

Heh! Loki huffed, flicking his tail. How sad the mighty Emperor of Hell would be if he knew his fated mate had chosen some mortal man instead. Such a pitiful ending for such a big love story. He almost felt heartbroken on the Emperor’s behalf — almost.

But then again, maybe it wasn’t so pitiful. Loki glanced at Lilith again, saw how her hand rested so naturally on Alexander’s sleeve, the way his cold eyes softened just for her. The way she looked so calm, so sure as if the whole world was hers to bend to her will.

Sister-in-law, Rose had said. Loki’s tail swished once more, but a tiny spark of fondness flickered in his bright eyes.

Well, he thought, burying his nose in his fluffy paws with a tiny, silent sigh, as long as Elder Sister is happy... even if the Emperor cries, maybe that’s enough.

****

Lilith couldn’t help but chuckle softly as she leaned against the wall of the bright, floral-scented bridal suite. She had never pictured herself here holding a tiny bouquet for Ava and Nova wedding, watching Ava practically vibrate with nerves like she might run out the door at any second.

The room was tastefully decorated, with delicate lace curtains letting in soft afternoon light and fresh lilies on every table. Ava’s wedding gown, all delicate beading and flowing white silk that shone every time she moved. But Ava, true to her restless nature, was fussing over every imaginary flaw.

"Oh... no," Ava whispered dramatically, her hands flying up to her cheeks as she peered closer into the vanity mirror. Her wide eyes darted over her flawless makeup, her hair that had been curled and pinned so perfectly that even Lilith couldn’t find a strand out of place. "Did I forget something? My lipstick looks weird, doesn’t it? And my eyelashes — do they look fake? Tell me the truth!"

"Ma’am, you’re looking perfect," the poor makeup artist said again, her polite smile a little strained after the tenth round of reassurance.

Lilith finally stepped closer, her own bridesmaid’s dress a smooth, pale lavender that hugged her figure just right. She placed her hands lightly on Ava’s shoulders and squeezed, her cool touch grounding Ava’s spiraling thoughts for a moment.

"Ava," Lilith said, her voice calm but firm, that faint devilish smirk tugging at her lips. "You’re going to break your mirror if you glare at it any harder. If you ask me, you’re about to steal all the attention from your groom."

Ava turned, her mouth falling open as if she wanted to protest, but then she caught the amusement in Lilith’s eyes and a small, sheepish smile broke through her panic. "You think so? Really?"

"Really," Lilith said, brushing a stray lock of hair from Ava’s forehead and letting it curl back into place. "If you ask me, he should be the one worrying about keeping up with you."

The makeup artist nodded vigorously in agreement. Ava let out a tiny laugh, though her fingers were still twisting the lace hem of her gown. Lilith watched her for another heartbeat, a small warmth flickering through her chest.

Once upon a time, Lilith had never imagined she’d stand in a room like this–helping someone tie the strings of a human life together, laughing over silly nerves, feeling that rare, fleeting sense of closeness. She liked it. Maybe just a little.

"All right," Ava said with a deep breath, drawing herself up as she looked in the mirror again but this time her eyes were steadier, the fear replaced by that spark of excitement. She reached out and caught Lilith’s hand, squeezing it tight. "Thank you for being here, Lilith."

Lilith’s lips curved into a calm, teasing smile as she watched Ava’s cheeks flush pink with relief. She gently brushed a wrinkle from Ava’s veil, her fingers careful not to disturb the intricate beading on the gown.

"Now," Lilith said softly but firmly, her voice filled with that quiet authority she always carried, "don’t fuss over every little thing or else you’ll be late for your own wedding."