Dangerous Love: You Are My One and Only Bride novel Chapter 575

Never, throughout Charles Moran’s long and storied life, had he ever slapped his daughter across the face.

The sharp crack of a wallop faded, revealing a stupefied Nina with her hand swinging to a gradually reddening, puffing cheek. Her eyes, trained on her father, were strewn with earnest bemusement.

“Why… Why did you hit me?! Was I wrong?” she demanded. “There’s only our people in this room, so why are you acting like I shouldn’t have said that?”

Charles gulped down the pill his bodyguard had passed to him. When his nerves finally settled a little, he answered, “This — this is the same man who killed his half-brother without batting an eyelash. Who are you to think that he would go easy on you? If he likes you, you’ll become the ruler of his heart. Otherwise, no amount of ingratiation will save you from his wrath!

“You are my only daughter, Nina. Do you think I can stomach watching you go down a path of self-destruction? Arianne Wynn may look like some unimpressive, nondescript little gal, but she’s someone Mark himself has watched over for a decade or more. Who are you in comparison? Listen to me very closely, Nina. Put your mind on your own damn marriage and do not — do not! — even think about latching yourself onto Mark Tremont ever again!”

Nina said nothing. She knew very little about the man, so all these appalling bits of news of his belligerence were terrifying to a little woman such as herself. Suddenly, her composure failed her.

The guilt of hurting his daughter caught up to Charles, and his tone softened. “Nia, I just want what’s good for you. We should not fly too close to the sun when we know we can’t, and the Tremonts are a bunch you cannot beat,” he admonished. “More importantly, passion begets hatred. I’m afraid that your passion will lead you to harm Arianne, and then Mark… He won’t leave you unpunished. You must stop yourself before it’s too late, do you understand me? I don’t believe that you’re anywhere close to a bad person, but jealousy drives people mad, Nia. Please, listen to me.”

The fire in Nina’s eyes died. “B-but I… I hate it! I hate that she’s just some orphan with nothing to her name, whose looks aren’t something mine cannot triumph over, whose family background is way below mine, yet I’m seen as lesser than her. I just don’t understand why I’ve lost. But… But I understand what you’re trying to tell me, Dad, and I won’t do anything that would worry you again. From now on, I’ll distance myself from Mark Tremont.”

What defeated her was neither the desperation undergirding her father’s advice nor the news of Mark’s severity and capacity for cruelty, but the immutable fact that Arianne had been by Mark’s side for a decade and longer. That was a bond that Nina could never forge, nor hope to emulate.

After settling his more urgent agendas by the evening, Mark texted Arianne: ‘You and me, dinner at 7. Sounds good?’

No instant reply came, not that Mark was waiting. He knew that the café was busy at this hour. Instead, he instructed his secretary, Davy, to pack his bags before heading to the airport.

By the time Arianne noticed his message, it was already five, late in the evening, when traffic in the café was much more sparse.

Arianne reasoned that he must be in the middle of his flight by now and no message would come through, so she eschewed replying to him altogether.

Arianne’s café usually closed by nine at night. Even if Mark reached her place by seven, she was skeptical that they would have their dinner exactly then. The most likely time to close shop should be eight, she reasoned, and that extra hour should be enough to rake in a lot more money.

She never liked her inert days back in the Tremont Estate, when she passed the time with idleness. Ever since she came here, Arianne had been able to peruse every minute to its fullest.