The Strange Groom's Cursed Bride-Chapter 60: A messy morning (1)

It was morning already.

A faint hum came from the projector. The large digital screen illuminated the otherwise dim room, displaying a slideshow of high-resolution surveillance images. Gavin sat at one end of the leather sectional, legs crossed, a coffee mug balanced neatly on one knee, looking as if he were auditing a tax return.

Rowan stood beside the control panel, remote in hand, flicking through the images with an air of casual mischief, probably thinking of a witty caption for each. Milo leaned against the side table, arms crossed, his face unreadable, though his eyes darted toward Hades more than once, a curious glint in their depths.

Hades hadn’t spoken in a while.

He sat back in his chair, watching. Silent. Still. Brooding, as always.

Then—he rose.

Fluidly. Slowly. Like a glacier shifting, each movement deliberate and powerful.

He walked toward the screen.

The image currently displayed showed Aurora leaning against a marble bar counter. Her hair was pulled back into a loose bun, her cheeks flushed, and she had a faint, lopsided smile. A martini glass sat untouched beside her hand. She looked... tipsy. Off-guard. Real. And across from her, on the other side of the image, stood Hardy Cresswell, caught mid-sentence, watching her with a still, unreadable gaze.

After graduation, they had met three times. At least, what Rowan provided. Once at a legal seminar. Another at a political dinner. But this third one?

This was different.

This was personal.

Hades stopped a foot away from the projection, his gaze fixed on Aurora. His hands slid into his trouser pockets. He didn’t blink. Didn’t flinch. Just observed. He was picking apart every detail, every subtle nuance.

He hadn’t looked at Hardy once. His attention was solely on her. Like there was something off.

Or different.

And then, slowly, as if a piece of a puzzle clicked into place somewhere in his mind, Hades smirked. Just a sliver of amusement tugging at the corner of his mouth, a rare, almost predatory flicker.

Then, and only then, did his gaze finally shift.

To Hardy.

In all three photos, his attention was unmistakable. Hardy’s eyes didn’t just notice Aurora. They lingered. Drank her in. Always watching her. Not in passing curiosity, but in deep, quiet study. Especially in that last shot, the one at the bar.

"Interesting," Hades murmured, almost to himself, his voice a low rumble. He turned back to the others. "Ask Clarisse to find out whether Aurora has any family off records."

Milo raised his eyebrows, a silent question in his eyes. Gavin didn’t move from his corner, already processing the command. Rowan was already typing, fingers flying over the keyboard, probably already pulling up half the internet.

Then Hades turned to Milo.

No words at first. Just a slow glance, eyes narrowing slightly—sharp, unreadable.

Milo straightened. "W-What, Boss?"

"Suzy," Hades said, quiet but direct. "Watch her."

Milo blinked and sat up at once. "Suzy? Why?"

"She’s never been close with Aurora," Hades said, voice clipped. "But she showed up. Loud. Uninvited. There’s a reason."

Before Milo could respond, Rowan let out a low whistle, a grin stretching across his face. "Wow. Bold move, Boss. Might as well send him over with roses and a toothbrush. Milo’s already halfway in love."

"I’m not—" Milo started, too fast, his voice cracking slightly. He flushed, sat up straighter. "I’ll do it." He said eagerly. Maybe too eagerly, before his sharp gaze turned to Rowan. "Just don’t start making things up." free𝑤ebnovel.com

Hades had raised one brow, his eyes glaring daggers at Milo.

It was clear what Hades was thinking.

The audacity of the idiot to be falling in love. Why would anyone subject themselves to such... uselessness.

The silence settled again as Hades turned his gaze on Gavin.

That silence shifted. Sharpened.

Everyone felt it.

They knew what the look meant.

Gavin didn’t move. His face didn’t change.

Then, flatly, without inflection: "Fuck no."

Rowan chuckled. "I vote Gavin too," he said, gesturing lazily. "He’s better at the discreet stuff. Also, he hates people. She’ll never get past him."

"If you want to die, keep talking," Gavin said without looking at him.

No one asked why he was against it so vehemently. It was Gavin. He was against everything.

Last night, Gavin hadn’t even looked her way and somehow she had still managed to provoke him, her chaotic energy a direct affront to his meticulously ordered existence. Oil, meet fire.

Hades looked at Gavin again. One slow nod.

"Handle it."

Gavin’s jaw ticked. "Boss—"

"It wasn’t a question." Hades’s tone never rose. But it cut like a blade.

Silence followed.

Then—

Ding.

The doorbell rang.

All heads turned toward the hallway.

Rowan got to it quickly. His fingers tapped a quick sequence on a different tablet, and the security camera feed flashed across the corner screen. The angle shifted to the sleek door from outside, where a tall figure in a black tailored coat stood with the patience of someone used to being waited on—not waiting.

"Uh..."

Milo glanced up, a flicker of genuine surprise in his eyes. "Who is it?"

Rowan slowly turned to face him, his voice hushed. "Dawin."

Hades turned for the door. Gavin followed behind. Both men as unreadable as ever, like perfectly sculpted marble statues.

The front doors opened with a mechanical click. The cold morning breeze slipped into the entryway, carrying with it a distinct chill.

Dawin Wildfire stood at the threshold like a shadow carved from ice. Shoulders squared, chin high, eyes glinting with sharp disapproval. His presence was a palpable weight.

He did not smile.

"Where is Aurora?" Dawin asked directly, his voice cutting through the silence like a honed blade.

Hades didn’t answer right away. He raised one brow slowly, gaze sliding down his brother with a quiet but pointed incredulity.

The audacity was almost impressive.

"Why are you looking for her?" Hades replied, his voice low, a dangerous undercurrent to his calm tone.

Dawin’s hands slid into the pockets of his coat. "She lives in Block A."

A beat. A silent battle of wills.

Hades’s smirk was slow, cold, a whisper of a challenge. "Did you forget she’s my wife?"

Dawin met his gaze without flinching, his own eyes holding a depth of unspoken history. "On paper."

The air chilled between them, the unspoken tension thick enough to taste.

Gavin shifted slightly beside Hades but didn’t speak, a silent, unyielding presence. He was a stone wall, ready to intervene if Dawin dared to step out of line.

Hades let out a quiet breath, half a scoff, half a laugh, though it never reached his eyes. "Regretting it?" he asked casually, a subtle taunt in his voice. "Not marrying her?"

Dawin’s jaw ticked. "Did you forget you were the one who jumped in?"

"Jumped in?" Hades said evenly, his voice maintaining its chilling calm. "You weren’t interested. You vanished. So what exactly is your point?"

For a moment, neither of them moved. The silence between them stretched taut, like a razor-thin wire drawn too tight. Two men, born of power and pride, staring each other down not out of hatred, but sheer will.

Then Dawin stepped forward. Not fast, not aggressive. Just intent. A clear challenge in his eyes, a silent declaration.

Gavin moved too.

With perfect timing, he took a single step sideways, directly into Dawin’s path—wordless, impassive, his presence a wall of quiet steel. He didn’t physically block Dawin so much as he simply existed in his space, making it impossible to advance without a direct confrontation.

Dawin paused. His eyes flicked to Gavin, a silent acknowledgment of the formidable barrier, then back to Hades. The tension spiked, a sudden, almost violent surge.

But Hades remained unmoved, gaze steady, voice calm, the puppet master pulling the strings. "It’s only natural," he said quietly, a calculated pronouncement, "for a man and his wife to live together."

He turned to Gavin, eyes sharp, a silent command passing between them. "Make arrangements," he said. "She’s officially moving in."

Gavin paused. Okay... this... wasn’t the plan. His gaze, usually a fortress of unreadable precision, was momentarily filled with question, a flicker of something close to bewilderment.

Meanwhile, upstairs, chaos erupted.

Milo choked mid-sip, spraying a mouthful of coffee onto the corner of the rug. "Shit!" he spluttered, wiping his chin.

Rowan, watching the feed, clamped a hand over his mouth just in time to stop himself from snorting out his own drink. His eyes widened, and he wiped his lips with the back of his hand, a stunned, disbelieving look on his face. "Did he just—? Did he just say she’s moving in?"

Milo looked like his brain had just blue-screened, processing the seismic shift in real time. "Okay. Wait." He blinked hard, then slowly sat up straighter like he was preparing to deliver a TED Talk. "In my professional opinion," he declared with mock solemnity, "this may officially be the start... of a love triangle."

Rowan turned toward him with the weary expression of a man bracing for stupidity. "Between who?" he asked, flatly. "Gavin, Boss, and Dawin?"

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