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.