The Stranger's Wife

chapter-16

The morning after The Prank Disaster, Aaira woke up with a single mission—avoid Arthur Black at all costs.

Every time she thought about what had happened—the fake kiss, her hysterical reaction, the fact that she almost prayed herself into another dimension—her entire body curled up in embarrassment.

She tiptoed around the house like a fugitive. If she heard Arthur’s voice coming from one room, she would immediately turn around and walk the other way. If he entered the hallway, she would pretend to be deeply fascinated by the wallpaper. If he was in the living room, she would conveniently ‘forget’ something in the kitchen. The worst part? Arthur knew exactly what she was doing, and he was enjoying it way too much.

One time, she hid behind a massive armchair when she saw him walking in. She thought she had made a clean escape—until she heard his deep voice behind her.

“Aaira, I didn’t know you were such a fan of interior decorating,” he said, amusement dripping from his tone.

She yelped, bumping into the armrest in her attempt to stand up. “I was just… admiring the craftsmanship?”

Arthur raised a brow. “Off the back of the chair?”

Before she could stammer a response, Grandma walked in and smirked. “Ah, young love. Always so much running and hiding.”

Aaira’s face burned as she bolted out of the room, Arthur’s chuckle following her.

By the afternoon, just when Aaira thought her embarrassment was subsiding, an unexpected guest arrived.

A tall, elegant woman stepped out of a sleek black car, her heels clicking against the pavement like a queen announcing her arrival. Her golden-brown hair cascaded in perfect waves, and her designer dress clung to her curves in a way that made Aaira suddenly aware of the very comfortable pajamas she was wearing.

The stunning, tall, and impossibly glamorous Isabella Romano—Arthur’s co-star in his next big movie—had arrived at the mansion, waltzing in like she owned the place. She wasn’t his ex-girlfriend, thank God, but the woman was clearly smitten with him.

And Arthur? He looked completely unfazed. As if having a gorgeous actress fawning over him was just another Tuesday.

Aaira, on the other hand, was definitely not okay.

“Arthur!” The woman’s voice was honey-sweet and filled with excitement.

Arthur, who

Had just stepped outside, smirked. “Isabella, didn’t expect to see you so soon.”

Isabella? Aaira’s ears perked up. Oh. Oh. She was his new co-star.

She stood at a distance, arms crossed, watching Isabella greet Arthur with the kind of enthusiasm that made Aaira’s stomach twist in irritation. The woman all but draped herself over him, laughing a little too loudly, touching his arm a little too frequently, and complimenting him like he was the most divine being to ever grace the earth.

“Oh, Arthur, darling!” Isabella gushed, placing a hand on his chest. “It’s been too long! I’ve missed you terribly!”

Arthur chuckled, shaking his head. “It’s only been a few months, Isabella.” And How did you know I am here?

“A few months too long!” She pouted, “and your manager told me you are here,” before her sharp eyes landed on Aaira, who was still standing there, staring. “Oh, who’s this?”

Arthur turned his head slightly. “That’s Aaira. She—”

“She’s his assistant,” Grandma chimed in, appearing out of nowhere with her usual mischief-laced tone. “She does everything for him.”

Aaira wanted to disappear into the floor.

Isabella’s perfectly sculpted eyebrows rose as she studied Aaira with interest. Then, just like that, she dismissed her with a polite, uninterested smile and turned her attention back to Arthur.

“Arthur, you have to come with me today,” Isabella purred. “I found the perfect café for brunch, and we have so much to catch up on. Plus, I need to discuss our chemistry for the film—it's very important we have the right... connection.”

Aaira felt a vein pop in her forehead.

Arthur smirked. “Chemistry, huh?”

“Of course,” Isabella said dramatically. “You do know our characters have a very passionate love story, right?”

Aaira clenched her jaw. Great. Just great.

She had no business being annoyed, but she was. And to make matters worse, Arthur noticed.

He threw her a knowing glance before turning back to Isabella. “Actually, I have plans today.”

Isabella pouted. “Oh, come on, cancel them. For me?”

Before Arthur could respond, Aaira snapped.

“He can’t. He has very important business to take care of.”

Arthur’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “Oh? What business?”

Aaira faltered for a second before crossing her arms. “Uh… important work. Lots of it. Paperwork, meetings, calls—”

“Calls?” Arthur echoed, leaning in slightly, obviously enjoying this.

“Yes,” Aaira said, doubling down. “Urgent calls. And I won’t let him skip them.”

Arthur chuckled. “Well, you heard the boss.”

Isabella’s smile faltered. She looked Aaira up and down again, as if trying to place her importance in Arthur’s life. But Arthur was already moving past her, heading toward the stairs.

“I’ll see you at the studio next week, Isabella,” he called over his shoulder.

Isabella huffed but put on a sweet smile. “Fine. But don’t forget, our characters are madly in love.”

Arthur gave her a half-smirk. “Good thing it’s all acting, then.”

Aaira almost fist-pumped the air.

Later that day, Arthur found Aaira in the kitchen, aggressively stirring a bowl of batter.

“Are you alright?” he asked, leaning against the counter.

“Fine.” Stir. Stir. Violent stir.

Arthur grinned. “You seemed a little… tense earlier.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Stir. Stir. Murderous stir.

He chuckled. “You know Isabella’s just a friend, right?”

“She seemed very friendly,” Aaira muttered.

Arthur smirked. “Are you jealous?”

The spoon in her hand snapped in half.

Aaira inhaled sharply. “Absolutely not.”

Arthur took a step closer, tilting his head. “Hmm. Could’ve fooled me.”

She scowled. “You’re imagining things.”

He leaned in, voice low. “Am I?”

Aaira’s breath hitched. The way he was looking at her—amused, smug, knowing—made her want to throw the batter at his face.

Instead, she shoved the bowl into his hands. “If you’re so bored, make yourself useful and stir.”

Arthur grinned but obeyed. “You know… I like seeing you all riled up.”

Aaira glared. “Well, get used to disappointment.”

But Arthur? He just laughed. Because he was certain—this woman was falling for him.

And he? Well, he had already fallen.

By dinner, Aaira had had enough. Isabella was practically feeding Arthur—offering him bites of her food, wiping imaginary crumbs off his shirt, laughing at everything he said.

Then came the final straw.

Isabella leaned in closer, holding a glass of juice. “Here, Arthur, try this. It’s my favorite.”

Arthur reached out to take it, but suddenly—oops!—Aaira accidentally bumped into Isabella’s chair. The juice spilled all over her pristine designer dress.

“Oh no!” Aaira gasped, eyes wide with fake innocence. “I’m so sorry!”

Isabella shrieked, standing up as the bright red juice stained her white dress. “Oh my God! This is vintage! Arthur, your maid just ruined my outfit!”

Aaira bristled. Maid? Oh, she was about to ruin more than just her dress.

Arthur coughed into his hand, clearly hiding a laugh. “Aaira, that was… unfortunate.”

Isabella huffed and stormed away to change.

Arthur turned to Aaira, arms crossed. “Was that really necessary?”

Aaira shrugged. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Arthur leaned in, his voice dropping. “You can lie to yourself, but your eyes say something else.”

Aaira’s breath hitched. Before she could respond, Isabella’s voice interrupted. “Oh? Am I interrupting something?”

Arthur looked between the two women, his smirk fading.

Aaira crossed her arms, looking away. “No. Nothing at all.”

But deep inside, she knew—she did care. And that realization terrified her more than anything.

The night had finally settled into silence when Isabella left for New York. Aaira felt a strange sense of relief wash over her as she watched the car drive away. She wasn't jealous—at least, that's what she told herself. But something about Isabella's presence had made her uneasy, and now that she was gone, the air felt lighter.

Arthur caught Aaira staring at the moonlit garden, lost in thought.

“Hey,” he said softly.

She turned, forcing a small smile. “Hey.”

He hesitated before smirking. “So, about tonight…”

“Don’t.”

He chuckled. “You are jealous.”

Aaira turned away quickly. “Goodnight, Arthur.”

As she walked inside, Arthur watched her go, his smirk turning into something softer.

This was getting interesting.

To Be Continued…

Aaira doesn’t understand her emotions. Arthur enjoys pushing her buttons. How will Aaira deal with her growing feelings for Arthur? Will Arthur keep teasing her, or will he finally confess what’s really on his mind?