The Wallflower Bride's Revenge

"Oh my god! Who. Is. That?"

A little buzz started behind Michel Ferrari, son and heir to the Ferrari Conglomerate.

He was curious but he couldn't turn around too fast. He had his dignity to keep.

But he kept his ears to the floor as the whispers got louder.

"She is gorgeous," someone whispered.

"Right! I don't think I've ever seen her before. Do you know who she is? Does anybody know who she is?"

The person must have been asking around because there were several murmured 'no's' in response.

"I'm gonna take a picture," someone else declared.

Now, Michel was really really curious. He had to see who this mystery beauty was.

Michel turned around slowly, careful to keep an air of nonchalance.

He turned around and immediately stopped in his tracks.

His mouth fell open, all the thoughts about his dignity flying out the window at the sight in front of him.

The woman walking towards him was an image out of a magazine.

She was dressed in a bright red dress that was short in the front, barely reaching her knees but long in the back.

Beautiful lush hair covered her bare shoulders in the strapless top of the dress.

Her silver heels had a replica of a butterfly at the back, giving the impression that she might be floating, not walking.

Her full, lush lips were blood red.

To cap it all up, she had a tiara... a freaking tiara!... on her head.

'Who the fuck wears a tiara to a business function!'

Michel's open mouth snapped shut and thinned out as he watched her approach.

A strong feeling welled up in his belly.

A feeling of disgust welled up in the pit of his stomach. Disgust... and unbearable attraction.

"She is gorgeous," someone beside him said. "I bet she's a model or something."

The compliments annoyed him even more than he already was.

Cameras clicked around him as people tried to capture her image.

Michel started forward furiously to meet her.

She hadn't given my impression of having noticed him yet but Michel was sure she was looking for him.

'Fucking clingy bitch!' He swore under his breath.

"Oh," someone muttered beside him.

He looked up to see old Mrs Featherwork giving him a look of horror.

He winced. His family did a lot of business with the Featherworks. He couldn't afford to antagonize them.

He forced himself to stop and turn to her. "Mrs Featherwork, my apologies. I was only talking to myself," he lied through his teeth.

She smiled and patted his hand gently. "I guess that's what it is like to be young again. Not much to swear at these days except my arthritis."

"Huh-hun," Michel muttered distractedly, his eyes following the woman.

She'd turned away from his direction and was walking the opposite way now.

The bloody crowd was actually parting for her. What the hell!

She was walking away from him. He knew the hall was massive and there were to many people in attendance...

But he basically towered over everyone else here. There was no way she couldn't see him.

"I'm sorry, Mrs Featherwork. I need to go. There's someone I need to catch," he said.

"Okay, honey. See you around," the sweet old lady said.

Michel left her and changed directions, cutting a path that he knew would get him right in front of her.

"Excuse me. Pardon me," he muttered impatiently as she moved people aside.

Finally, he reached her, walking right up in front of her.

"Maria," what the hell are you doing here?" He demanded.

She looked up and met his gaze for the first time.

She blinked, a look of faint surprise on her face as if she hadn't seen him this entire time.

For some reason, that annoyed him even more.

"Oh, hello there, dear husband," she said casually and walked right past.

Michel's head exploded in fury. 'Did that little slut just ignore me and walk out on me!'

He whirled around and stormed after her.

He grabbed her arm firmly from behind and whirled her around until she was facing him.

"Where the hell do you think you're going!" He snarled in her face.

Alaina blinked in surprise. "What do you mean where am I going? It's a party." She looked pointedly around the room. "I'm going to party."

"Don't talk to me like I'm stupid! I know it's a party. The question is why are you at this party," he demanded.

"Need I remind you, dear husband, that the Ferrari's are hosting a business dinner hall and as at yesterday, I AM a Ferrari," she waved her fingers in his face, the nice fat diamond that sealed her fate twinkling in the lights.

"You filthy gold digger!" Michel snarled.

Alaina dragged him close quickly, pretending to hug him.

With her mouth close to his ear, she whispered, "Careful husband, there are a lot of eyes on us. Wouldn't want the Ferrari's to be a source of gossip now, would you?"

Bile rose in Michel's throat. And it wasn't because of her words but the feel of her hot breath against his ear.

His body reacted so violently to it. He almost dragged her against him so he could feel her touch better.

Before he could make that mistake, he dragged himself back, pushing her away.

Alaina smiled and waved coyly. "See you around, husband."

She whirled around on her heels and marched away.

Alaina Westbrook marched away from her husband, a tiny smirk on her lips.

'Oh Michel, it's too soon to get so riled up. I'm only just beginning,' she said inwardly.

From the moment she walked into the hall, she'd known exactly where he was.

He was hard to miss. He stood a whole head above everyone else in the room.

His broad shoulders acted like a beacon calling every stray attention to that sculpture of a man.

Weren't those the exact things that made her fall in love with over and over again?

Even though, she'd loved him long before puberty decided to bestow all that goodness on him.

She scoffed. That all seemed like a lifetime ago now. Love... that wasn't something that mattered to her anymore.

She headed straight for her destination, the man in the sparkly wine suit.

"Dr Roshan," she called sweetly.

He turned slowly. "Hello...miss," he said, smiling politely.

"Mrs, actually," she corrected, holding out her hand to him.

He shook her hand firmly.

"I'm a huge fan of your work," she continued.

"My work?" he repeated, giving her a quizzical look.

"Yes." Alaina smiled widely. "You don't know me but I know you quite well, Dr Roshan. I hope we can become good friends."

"It would be an honor to be friends with a beautiful woman like you," he agreed even though he still looked confused.

Alaina merely smiled and walked away. Her parade wasn't over.

She'd spent the entire afternoon getting dolled up just for this. To make this impact.

The eyes of the entire room were on her with every step she took. That was exactly what she wanted.

The old Alaina would have hated this. She would have worn a soft white, cream or pink dress and stayed as far back in the room as possible.

But that Alaina was dead.

This was a new Alaina and she had no fucks to give.

She let her eyes discreetly run over the crowd. She found him... the one that killed her. Her darling husband.

Once she ascertained that he was no where near her, she moved on to her next plan for the night.

Alaina headed straight for the stage where a band was softly playing in the background.

"Hi," she called to the one closest to her. "I am Mrs Ferrari. I'll like to say a few things to our guests here tonight. Get me a microphone, please."

"Oh! M-Mrs Ferrari, sorry I didn't recognize you immediately. Of course," he ran off to get her a microphone.

Alaina didn't bother pointing out that there was no way he could have recognized her. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered.

He returned with the microphone and handed it to her.

"Stop the music," she ordered. The music slowly faded to a stop.

People began to turn towards the stage questioningly.

Alaina marched into the stage. "Ladies and gentlemen! I want to thank you all for coming out tonight. Give yourselves a round of applause."

A round of polite applause echoed through the hall.

Out of the corner of her eyes, Alaina saw Michel's eyes widen in shock. He began to storm towards her.

She sped up her speech. "Honestly, we are so honored to have you here. Myself, and my loving husband ."

She pointed towards him. The spotlight shone on him.

He was forced to stop now with all those eyes on him and smile winningly.

Only Alaina could see that the smile didn't quite reach his eyes. A murderous look was hidden behind those eyes.

The crowd was shocked. They began whispering to each other.

Alaina laughed lightly. "Yes, yes, I know you're all shocked. My face didn't quite show in the wedding pictures released yesterday so I thought I'd come introduce myself today. Why don't you join me up here, honey?"

Michel smiled tightly and walked up to stand beside her.

"My name is Maria Ferrari, wife of Michel Ferrari. And you'll be seeing a lot of me around from now on!"

The room broke out in applause. There were several phones out recording her. By tonight, they would be all over the internet.

Alaina smiled. Everything was going even better than she expected.

In all her planning and scheming, she never would have expected things to just fall into place so easily.

The crowd's eyes were on her expectantly, waiting to see her next move. Oh, they couldn't guess what was coming next!

"AND NOW," she cried over the applause. She turned to Michel.

His eyes widened in panic. She could almost read his thoughts.

'What now? What does this crazy bitch have planned next?'

She winked at him. His eyes widened even more. She had to keep herself from laughing out loud.

"You... may kiss the bride," she declared. She uncurled her fingers from around the microphone and let it drop to the floor.

Before it even reached the floor, she grabbed him by his lapels and dragged his head down.

He was so tall and so big that she couldn't have ever dreamt of actually pulling him down.

But he hadn't been expecting it so he was so shocked that he actually bent down himself without even realizing what he was doing.

Standing on her tiptoes to meet him. Alaina crashed her lips against his, a triumphant light in her eyes.

Michel's cheeks were hurting so bad at this point from having to fake smile at every guest as they heartily congratulated him.

"Oh Michel, you're so lucky!" Anne Marie, the wife of his best friend, Victor gushed.

"She is so beautiful, isn't she honey?" The question was directed at her husband.

"Not as beautiful as you, honey," he answered dutifully.

She laughed, her beautiful face bright with merriment. Her cheeks were turning red.

"Oh honey!" She smacked his hand.

"I love you guys but I'm not in the mood for your sappy love tonight," Michel grumbled.

He pulled Anne Marie closer and pressed a kiss to her cheek.

"Now get out of here. Both of you," he said lightly.

Victor shook his hand. "We should meet soon for drinks and discuss this... happy event of your marriage," he said codedly.

Michel winced and nodded. "Yeah, we should."

They'd been friends long enough for Victor to read from his expression that he was anything but happy.

Victor turned to leave with his wife. He stopped and turned around again, a quizzical look on his face.

"By the way, your wife looks a little familiar, don't you think? I can't quite place where I've seen that face before," he said and left.

Michel frowned. 'Really? She didn't look familiar to him but then again, he hadn't really looked at her yet.

That's how things were when you married someone on your grandmother's orders a day after you met her for the first time.

One thing was sure though... she was as beautiful as they all said.

The party had ended now and all the guests were leaving. In fact, Victor and Anne Marie were one of the last to leave.

Which meant that he could also leave now without being a bad host.

He sighed and headed to the door. His new wife was nowhere to be found. She must have left at some point too.

She'd stuck by his side for a while graciously accepting their congratulations while clinging to his side like a good, loving wife.

She was up to something and he couldn't tell what it was but he'd be damned if he didn't find out.

He made his way to the parking lot and headed straight for his car.

"It's about time," a voice came from behind him. "I was getting tired of waiting."

Michel whirled around to see Maria casually leaning against the wall by his car.

She pushed off the wall and walked to his side with a smile. Somehow, the smile made him uncomfortable.

"What are you doing here?" He demanded.

"You seem to be asking me that a lot tonight," she observed, her pleasant smile not shifting once.

"Maybe because you keep showing up in places you shouldn't be in," he countered irritably.

She blinked at him with faux surprise. "Shouldn't be? Where else would I be after a party I attended with my husband? By the car waiting for him so we can go home, of course!"

"You didn't come here with me, why do you think you are leaving with me?"

"I already sent my driver back so I'll be riding home with you," she said cheerfully.

He smirked. "You shouldn't have done that. You're not getting in this car with me. You can walk home for all I care."

He hopped into the car and slammed the door shut behind him.

'Shit! What now?' She'd really sent her driver back. How would she get home?

She looked around for a solution. Just then, a huge one jumped at her.

Alaina smirked. The universe must really be on her side tonight.

"Oh, Mrs Featherwork! Mr Featherwork! How lovely to run into you again," Alaina called out.

The old couple paused in their track, on their way to their vehicle. When they saw her, they headed towards her.

The door opened behind her. Alaina didn't bother to turn around. She simply smirked in the dark.

"Hello again, darling," Mrs Featherworks said sweetly. "What are you doing out here?"

"Oh nothing, I was just about to get in the car with my husband when I saw you approaching. I simply had to say hi!"

"That is so sweet of you! Thank you!" She gushed. "It's late and you must both be so tired. Don't let us keep you waiting. Go on now."

"Thank you soooo much for understanding!" Alaina's voice was practically dripping in sweetness.

It was all Michel could do not to throw up.

He saw right through her facade. She'd called the old couple over to strong arm him into letting her into the car.

Since they were standing right there, he had no choice but to let her in.

"My sweet wife," he said through clenched teeth, "Please get in the car."

"A gentleman should open the door for his wife," Mr Featherworks said. "Ain't that right, honey?"

"That's exactly right!" She giggled. "Forty years together and he still opens the door every time."

"Wow! Isn't that just romantic," Alaina gushed, batting her eyelids.

Michel had to keep himself from scoffing but he obediently opened the door and stepped back.

Alaina climbed in happily. It was all he could do not to slam the door on her foot.

"Well, goodnight sir. Ma'am." He entered the car as well and shut the door.

As soon as they pulled away from under the watchful eyes of the Featherworks, Michel turned to his wife.

"You... you're a witch aren't you?"