Avelina could not believe his words; she just stared at him as the music began to come to a slow stop.
"You did not read the contract, did you?" There was a mocking tilt to his lips as he smirked. Avelina's face was written in full shock. The music finally stopped as Zauriel moved back, his hand holding hers slowly before lifting it to his lips and placing a soft kiss atop it immediately she felt his lips on her a pool of butterflies snaked down her stomach. Avelina could not even believe herself—it was like she was in pure shock.
How was that possible?
So the man who had made her sign the contract was not her husband but just a messenger. It was like the memory of the last time kept flashing—the only difference between now and then was that now she had signed a marriage contract, and then, it was a divorce.
She could not even pinpoint it. So the… cup—
Her face paled. Why would he do that? Why had she not read that contract? Her mind kept spinning that she hadn't realized her hands were now wrapped around Zauriel's as they walked up the stairs. The light came back on, and the soft sound of clapping brought her back from her thoughts.
She could not even connect the missing dots; it was like all her plans had shattered within minutes. That meant she was not going to meet that man for a divorce.
She finally moved her hands, wanting to pull away from his arms—he had tricked her. But before she could pull away, his other hand moved, holding hers still. Her breath caught as his eyes flashed with warning.
"If you do not want to be punished, behave now, puffin," he spoke as they walked up the stairs eyes were still on them.
But his steps halted at her words.
"And if you want to keep your generation alive, let go of me."
A slow chuckle finally left his lips as he turned to her. His hand moved to her chin, raising it slightly.
"And you think that would change a thing?" he asked coldly, his face giving nothing away. Avelina's mouth parted—she could not even say a word as she noticed more eyes beginning to move toward them from downstairs. The hall and the stairs they were going up were the only ones, and that alone was enough to draw attention.
Avelina decided to keep her mouth shut. She could tell this proud man her mind once they were alone.
They finally reached the end of the stairs. As he waited for her to sit on the luxurious sofa, she moved quietly and sat down. She would talk to him properly when they were alone.
The violin and piano music came back on again, and it was time for the rest of the people to dance. As the music began playing and the lights dimmed softly, Avelina tried to think. Her plan had just been shattered by a single sentence—something was really up, though she couldn't tell what.
She had told this man that her husband would take care of the payment of the broken cup, and right now, it seemed this man was her husband.
"W… why, Avelina? Why had you not read that?" she scolded herself. But one thing was clear—she was not going to marry this man. If anything, she would be asking for a divorce.
"You don't have to worry, puffin. Everything has been settled. As you said your husband would settle it, so will I," he spoke calmly reminding her of her words, turning his gaze from the event to her.
Avelina managed a tight smile as she spoke.
"And who said I was worried? Oh, Mr. Zauriel, I see you are very good at jumping to conclusions."
She spoke softly as Zauriel silently watched her, his gaze locked on hers without saying a word. That alone made Avelina think twice—had she made a mistake with her grammar?
She tried to rephrase it in her head, because why else would he still be looking at her? Her body felt too aware of his piercingly emotionless gaze, and she could no longer look down in pride any longer.
"Mr. Zauriel, I would be needing those desserts—lots and lots of them," she finally spoke, knowing this was the only opportunity she had. Now that this man was by her side, she knew things would be handled in a twinkle of an eye. She managed to keep a confident look as she met his cold eyes.
"I see you're more interested in those snacks." Zauriel's deep voice came low—almost deliberately too low, yet clear.
Avelina nodded with a slightly flushed face, she turned her gaze away to the people dancing below.
"Are you telling me you cannot give your wife those desserts? You're a rich man. And besides, if you don't want me having them, I'm fine with that. All I need is cash. I accept transfer or cash," she spoke, leaving Zauriel speechless at her words.
Avelina thought that before she divorced him, at least she could benefit a little. She would not even be happy with herself if she ended up doing this and going home empty-handed.
Zauriel's face gave nothing away as his gaze finally shifted from hers. A smirk curved his lips as he spoke before turning to her.
"I think you're the one jumping to conclusions here. I never said I wouldn't give you those desserts," he said, his eyes glinting sharply.
Avelina's face turned redder as she shifted her gaze from his to the people dancing.
A waiter moved with a rolling cart and finally stopped in front of them. Even the waiter's clothes spoke wealth. It seemed she would be checking this place out for work soon.
"Same as usual?" Zauriel said as the man bowed. He turned to Avelina, waiting for her to pick the other drink. The wines were fruit drinks, and he was curious which she would choose.
"Same as Mr. Zauriel," Avelina spoke softly.
But Zauriel immediately spoke, his voice sharp and final.
"No."
His sharp gaze turned to her, and just as she was about to open her mouth, her words fell short. No sound left her lips as his stare became deadly.
"Give her the apple juice," Zauriel spoke calmly, and the man bowed. Avelina could not believe this man. Why did he not want them to give her the same red wine? The rich liquid flowed smoothly into the glass and was gently placed on the tray. Zauriel gently handed the glass to Avelina, which she took calmly. She noticed he had not wanted the waiter handing it to her.
At this point, she didn't really care what kind of drink it was—she was just glad she had a drink.
"All the desserts, pack them," Zauriel ordered calmly as he picked up his glass and took a sip. The man bowed respectfully.
"No, not all! That's too much!" Avelina spoke with wide eyes; she almost choked on her juice. She wanted the desserts, but that was a lot—and she wasn't that stingy to take them all.
A low dry chuckle left his lips as he turned to her calmly.
"And who said they belonged to you?" he asked sharply, making Avelina fall silent, her face flushing in embarrassment.
"Take them to the car my wife will be leaving with," he ordered.
"Yes, boss."
Avelina could not believe this man—he was very unpredictable.
"I advise you to stop calling me that, Mr. Zauriel, as I am not your wife. Who knows, we might get a divorce sooner or later," she spoke softly, a wide smile gracing her lips. She took a slow gulp of her juice as Zauriel calmly set his glass down.
His eyes flashed with sinful intent.
"There is no option for a divorce, Mrs. Zauriel."
Avelina's lips parted as she stared at him in confusion.
"You seem to forget—the condoms you sold would not just go to waste, would they?"