The Strange Groom's Cursed Bride
Chapter 55: Dinner event...

Chapter 55: Dinner event...

Alice had assumed all the estate buildings would look the same — grand from the outside, with similar layouts, the kind that screamed old and sustained money. Except Block A, of course, had felt like a museum of secrets. But Block D... Block D was different.

Grand? Yes. But she couldn’t quite put her finger on why. Was it the deeper hues of the marble? The way the golden sconce lights danced against the subtle metallic textures of the walls? The art that looked curated rather than displayed? Or was it simply that this didn’t feel suffocating like Block A... or terrifying like Block C?

She walked beside Hades in silence, her emerald dress brushing his slacks as they entered a separate lounge-style hall, a space that exhaled opulence.

No holding hands. No touching.

The room was exotically decorated: tall arched windows opened up to a balcony where the night breeze teased sheer white curtains. A live trio played softly — piano, saxophone, violin — and the music carried like perfume across the room. Everything felt curated, like walking into a silent opera.

The lighting was low, casting everyone in golds and shadows. Wine glinted in crystal glasses. An indulgent spread of sweets, hors d’oeuvres, and foreign dishes lined the room, but Alice’s stomach churned. Even the scent of sugar and roasted nuts made her nauseous.

And then there were the people. Young. Well-dressed. Too well-dressed. Roughly fifteen of them, maybe more, their expressions smooth, their shoes shined to perfection. Their colognes layered together like an olfactory war — musks, spices, florals, leather — it made her temples throb.

They had barely stepped in when a hush, almost imperceptible, washed over the room. The air shifted, thickened. Conversations faltered.

"That’s Hades?" someone whispered. A woman. Loud enough that it wasn’t really a whisper.

Alice looked at him. She wondered if these people had also seen the news today, hinting at Hades being adopted.

She felt like reaching for him, but she didn’t.

Hades himself didn’t flinch. He didn’t look at the speaker or at anyone. He didn’t have to. His presence alone commanded hush.

They did make quite the pair.

His height, his glacial composure. The half-unbuttoned shirt he wore revealed inky black tattoos etched across his pale skin like whispered stories. His eyes were calm, blank. Unreadable. Like the room didn’t exist.

Beside him, Alice’s smaller frame swayed slightly, the satin of her emerald dress catching light in glimmers. Her cheeks glowed, but not from vanity from fever, from pressure, from trying not to collapse.

Still, she forced herself upright. She could not falter now.

Her eyes swept the room for Hardy. He wasn’t here. Not yet.

But Suzy was, and her twin, Wilson, as well as Van. And two faces she vaguely remembered from the wedding, polite clappers, background guests.

This room was unfamiliar, a battleground of gazes and silent assessments. It reminded her of her first field test; the Big 20s party. Where she’d met Hades for the first time. Where she’d almost drowned in her own heartbeat.

Anxiety was kicking in as her brain played different scenarios were Hardy would appear out of nowhere and announce to the room that she was fake before putting a cuff in her hand.

Then—

The attention diverted.

Hardy entered, accompanied by his family. They moved together like a practiced painting, his father, distinguished with slicked-back silver hair; his mother, an elegant woman holding a flute of champagne with surgical precision; and a younger woman, striking, the kind that looked both sweet and capable of murder.

Alice recognized them from photos online; the Cresswells. And suddenly, all that tension tightened into a single thread.

Hardy’s eyes landed on her. And she stilled.

Hades hadn’t spoken a word yet hadn’t looked at her since they entered, but somehow, she could feel him tense beside her, as if ready to step forward should the air shift the wrong way.

She couldn’t understand why he was here. This didn’t seem like his crowd. But again, she couldn’t ask.

Then they approached.

"Mr. and Mrs. Wildfire," Hardy’s father greeted first, his voice as polished as his shoes. He extended a hand.

There was a beat — just a fraction too long — before Hades finally reached out. His handshake was brief, expression disinterested. He didn’t bother with charm. He didn’t need it.

"Delighted to have you visit our home tonight," the man continued, gesturing slightly. "My wife, my son, Hardy and my daughter, Caroline."

Alice’s attention snapped to Caroline — because the woman had not taken her eyes off Hades since they entered. There was a flicker of familiarity in the stare. Something too intentional.

Alice met her gaze sharply, and only then did Caroline look away, not in embarrassment, but as if she were bored of waiting for something.

"You were quite the character on your wedding day," Caroline said smoothly. "Have the nerves settled now?"

Wedding day? She had been there?

Alice’s brain kicked into overdrive, trying to locate her in the sea of faces from that chaotic ceremony. Had Hardy been there too?

Did she know about her?

"I’m... doing well, thanks for asking," Alice replied calmly. Her tone wasn’t sharp, but it had an edge. She refused to be rattled. Caroline wasn’t her concern.

Hardy was.

She looked at him now.

He was standing right in front of her and she wasn’t sure what to expect.

"We simply wanted to say hello before we leave you all to your evening," Mr. Cresswell said.

"Enjoy yourselves," Hardy’s mother added, her smile practiced to the point of glass. "Such a beautiful young woman you married, Mr. Wildfire. Exquisite taste."

Alice managed a soft, "Thank you." She couldn’t tell if it was a compliment or whether the woman was being sarcastic.

Hades gave a single nod. He hadn’t spoken at all. But his silence was a fortress. A looming, unbothered stormcloud.

Soon after, the elder Cresswell elders drifted off to mingle with other guests.

Caroline stood beside Hardy with the kind of elegance bred from expensive boarding schools and diplomatic dinner parties. Her eyes, however, were not on Alice. Not even for a second.

They were on Hades.

She looked at him like he was an equation she wanted to solve, a secret language written on skin, and the longer she stared, the more brazen it became.

Alice noticed.

The others probably did.

Even Hades, though his expression remained utterly blank. Indifferent.

"I don’t believe we’ve met personally," Caroline said, stepping forward, her voice silk-wrapped and sweetly poised. She extended a slender hand, her smile dazzling but calculated. "Caroline Cresswell."

Hades glanced down at her hand.

And did absolutely nothing.

There was no hesitation — just a deliberate choice not to take it. His gaze rose slowly to meet hers, flat and emotionless, and he said... nothing.

The silence was colder than rejection.

Caroline’s smile wavered, ever so slightly. Just for a fraction of a second. But then Hardy stepped forward, his brows ticking down. A subtle shift, subtle enough to miss unless you were watching closely.

He gave his sister a look.

Alice couldn’t tell what it meant. Warning? Restraint? Or maybe just: Not this one.

Caroline’s smile faltered again.

A call from across the room broke the moment as a girl waved her over, someone Alice didn’t recognize. Caroline turned toward the voice, clearly reluctant, her mouth twitching as though she wanted to stay.

But she didn’t.

She dipped her head politely, only to Hades, of course, and walked away, her heels crisp on the marble. Yet just before she disappeared into the crowd, she glanced back.

Not at Hades.

At Alice.

It was a quick, fleeting look, but Alice caught it, recognized it instantly. There was a tiny flicker of something bitter in it. Or maybe just surprise.

Because Alice was still standing there.

Still beside him.

Still... his wife.

And that knowledge warmed Alice in places she didn’t expect. Her fevered face flushed further — but this time, with smug satisfaction.

She turned slightly toward Hades, resisting the urge to grin.

He hadn’t looked once at Caroline. Not once.

Well, he wasn’t even looking at her either, but that was not the point now.

And also, this was not the time to be smug! Because it was just the three of them now.

Hardy.

She was still unsure about him. And he wasn’t starting any conversation and Alice could swear on her life that Hades would not start any conversations either.

Just why exactly was he here?

Alice inhaled. Steadied herself.

"Mr. Cresswell," she greeted, hoping her voice sounded smooth.

"Call me Hardy. We aren’t strangers," he said with a faint smile.

Wait — wwwhat?

Alice blinked, unsure how to respond. Was he... exposing her?

Her pulse jumped — panic threatened to claw its way up her throat — but then he added, "We’ve been attending the same school for as long as we can remember, anyway."

Oh.

Still playing along.

Fine. Great.

She almost laughed from the sheer relief.

Beside her, Hades finally moved, just slightly, shifting his weight so that the space between Alice and Hardy became a little less breathable.

And just like that, Hardy’s gaze shifted to him.

The smile on Hardy’s lips didn’t quite reach his eyes. "I must say, Mr. Wildfire," he said, voice light but edged with something beneath, "we never really crossed paths, but you’ve become quite the... enigma."

Hades didn’t respond immediately. His eyes, cool and unreadable, met Hardy’s like two swords briefly clashing. If there was any tension, Hades wore it like a second skin: unbothered, detached, almost bored.

"Likewise," Hades finally replied, his voice low, velvet, but carrying that sharp undercurrent that made people think twice.

The unspoken weight in that single word settled heavily in the air between them.