"Honestly," Gemma Bennett said, analyzing the situation with a serious look, "he clearly likes you. Why else would he accept your flowers? And actually go to the restaurant you picked? He hasn't turned down a single thing you've asked for."

Arianna Stone fell silent for a few seconds. "Is there a possibility, maybe, that since we're married, he just feels too awkward to say no?"

The more she thought about it, the more plausible it seemed.

"Besides," Arianna added, "he’s a naturally kind person with high social intelligence. He wouldn’t want to embarrass me."

Gemma looked stumped. "Fair enough. That does make sense."

"Right?" Arianna quipped, though a strange, hollow sense of disappointment settled in her chest.

As they chatted, Gemma suddenly remembered something. "Oh, by the way... has Cameron Hughes been bothering you lately?"

"No," Arianna replied instinctively.

A few seconds later, she realized her mistake. She lifted her gaze to lock eyes with her friend. "He’s been bothering you, hasn't he?"

"No, not at all," Gemma said, flashing a gentle, unconvincing smile. "Do you really think he would? Why would he bother me?"

Her eyes darted away, refusing to meet Arianna’s steady stare. She busied herself with the grill tongs, frantically flipping the food as if her life depended on it.

Arianna knew the truth immediately.

"Gemma, the tongs are going to char at this rate."

"..." Gemma sighed. "Fine. Honestly, he didn't say much. He just kept asking where you were. I didn't tell him, and he wouldn't stop pestering me to put him in touch with you. Eventually, I just told him off."

She said it lightly, as if it were nothing. But Arianna knew better; things were rarely that simple when it came to him.

Seeing the worry on her friend's face, Gemma quickly shifted to comfort her. "Don't worry, it's over now. I promise. If he tries to corner me again, I’ll just call the police—or at least threaten to."

Arianna nodded in agreement. "That should work. He’s incredibly obsessed with his reputation. The moment he hears the word 'police,' he’ll scurry away."

Gemma fell silent for a beat.

*Obsessed with his reputation, right?*

The old Cameron Hughes had treated his social standing like a religion. But lately?

An image of him from that day flashed in her mind: dark, heavy circles under his eyes, his chin covered in thick stubble, looking completely disheveled and hollowed out. He looked as if he’d aged five years overnight.

Maybe the current Cameron Hughes didn't care about his image anymore.

"Anyway, let’s stop talking about him," Gemma said, smoothly changing the subject. "Let’s talk about something fun. How’s work going? You won’t believe the bizarre antics my boss pulled today..."

The two of them spent the afternoon wandering through the shops and grabbing bites to eat. Around nine o'clock, Arianna sent her location to Maxwell King, just as they had agreed.

Before she left the house, Maxwell had insisted that if she was out late, she had to message him so he could pick her up. When she’d asked him what counted as "late," he’d thought about it seriously and decided that anything after seven o'clock qualified.

Arianna and Gemma were sitting at a tea shop on the corner. The humid summer night air clung to them, but the chilled milk tea—packed with chewy boba and coconut jelly—made the heat bearable.

They were idly watching the street when a black Bentley pulled up to the curb. Its sharp, aggressive lines were impossible to miss, commanding attention instantly.

Arianna nudged Gemma. "What are you staring at? Let’s go."

Gemma gazed at the high-end luxury vehicle, her jaw slightly unhinged. "Is... is that the husband you were talking about?"

Arianna smiled. "That's the one."

Gemma took a massive gulp of her milk tea, chewing frantically, before giving her a thumbs-up.

She’d known Arianna was married to some big-shot businessman—she’d caught glimpses of their home’s opulent decor in the background of Arianna’s selfies—but seeing the disparity in their worlds hit her like a physical blow. When she caught a glimpse of the man behind the wheel, she couldn't help but gasp.

As Maxwell made a brief phone call, Gemma pulled Arianna aside, whispering urgently, "You’re not pulling my leg, are you? That’s really your husband? You didn't just hire some male model to play the part, right?"

Arianna couldn't help but laugh. "Why would I do that? What would be the point?"

"I don't know," Gemma blurted out. "Maybe your husband is just an introvert and hates being seen in public, so you grabbed a model to fill in for him?"

Arianna knew she was joking. "…How could that possibly be?"

Arianna pulled her back over to introduce them, handing Maxwell the extra cup of tea she’d ordered. He took it, a faint smirk playing on his lips. "Is this for me?"

*What else would it be for?* Arianna nodded.

Maxwell brushed the back of his hand against the condensation on her cup. He frowned, his tone laced with gentle frustration. "You're drinking cold tea again?"

Arianna countered, "Why shouldn't I?"

"You had two popsicles before you even left the house. How much cold stuff do you think your body can handle in a single day?"

Arianna stared at him, stunned. "How did you know about the popsicles?"

Maxwell didn't break character, his expression perfectly calm. "I was in the kitchen when you were sneaking them out. I didn't want to startle you, so I didn't say anything."

Arianna: "..."

*Awkward.*

Ever since her last period had left her writhing in agony, Maxwell had made her promise to limit herself to one frozen treat a day and cut back on iced coffee and ice cream. She had agreed, thinking she was being discreet.

Caught red-handed.

"It’s not that I want to stop you from having treats, but too much cold is bad for your digestion," he murmured.

"I know," Arianna said, deciding to bargain with him now that she’d been exposed. "I’ll try to be more careful, but I really have to finish this milk tea. It would be a waste if I didn't."

Her transparent attempt at negotiation was written all over her face. Maxwell let out a soft chuckle, choosing not to call her out. His eyes, however, betrayed the depths of his affection. "Fine. See that you keep your word."

Gemma stood by, completely dumbfounded.

*Who on earth is in love with whom?*

This wasn't just him being "too polite to refuse." This was blatant, undeniable adoration! And the dense blockhead in front of her still didn't realize it?!

But then again, was Maxwell always this easy to bribe?

As someone who had devoured hundreds of romance novels, Gemma felt a twinge of "get-it-together" frustration. *Where are your boundaries, man? Can’t you stick to the rules you set? If she doesn't listen, just kiss her! A real, earth-shattering, toe-curling kiss!*