His Forgotten Bride

Chapter 6

“Next,” the photographer called out uncertainly, forcing a strained smile as he gestured for us to change positions.

Who wouldn’t hesitate when the atmosphere felt like this?

Terrence stood just a few steps away from me, his presence heavy and suffocating, his sharp gaze fixed on the man beside me. I wasn’t even sure if this was still a photo shoot or some kind of silent war. The entire studio had gone quiet—so quiet that all I could hear was the camera shutter and my own uneven breathing.

Everyone seemed to be walking on eggshells, especially the staff. They weren’t looking at the camera anymore. They were looking at him.

At Terrence.

And I couldn’t even pose properly because every time my eyes met his, my chest tightened. He had agreed to let this shoot continue instead of going on a private date with me, but now it felt like punishment rather than permission.

“You’re too stiff,” the man beside me said casually.

His arm slid around my waist as if it belonged there.

I immediately clenched my jaw.

Chaos.

Even his name sounded like trouble.

I turned my head slightly and glared at him. “Are you enjoying this?” I asked under my breath.

He chuckled, leaning in closer than necessary. “What do you think?”

My grip on my emotions tightened.

“What do you want?” I asked flatly, forcing myself to stay professional even though I felt anything but calm.

Forcing a pose, I leaned my head lightly against his chest as instructed, eyes fixed sharply on the camera.

That was when I felt it—his thumb slowly circling my waist.

My body stiffened instantly.

“I want you,” he whispered low enough that only I could hear. “Isn’t it obvious? Why would I hire a model for my company’s campaign when I could just have you myself?”

“Stop touching me,” I said firmly, pulling back slightly.

But before I could fully step away, his arm suddenly tightened around me and spun me around.

My breath caught as I instinctively held onto his shoulder just to keep my balance. For a second, it looked like we were dancing—too close, too intimate, too wrong.

A collective gasp echoed around the room.

Click. Click.

The camera kept capturing the moment.

“Enough,” a cold voice cut through the tension.

Terrence moved fast, pulling me away from Chaos and wrapping an arm tightly around my waist.

The studio went silent again.

Chaos let out a soft laugh, licking his lower lip as if he found the entire situation entertaining.

“You’re very possessive,” he said. Then his gaze shifted to me. “So what exactly is your relationship with her?”

I felt Terrence’s grip tighten.

I already knew what he was about to say.

And I hated that I was right.

“I am her best friend,” Terrence answered coldly.

For a second, I couldn’t process what I just heard.

Best friend?

My mouth slightly parted in disbelief.

Chaos burst out laughing. Even I almost wanted to laugh at how absurd it sounded.

“Best friend?” Chaos repeated mockingly. “So a best friend gets to act like a jealous husband now?”

Terrence’s jaw clenched harder.

Before things could escalate further, I stepped in quickly.

“I’m not feeling well,” I said calmly, forcing a neutral expression. “I think we’ve already taken enough shots.”

Chaos looked at me, studying my face. Then he smiled faintly.

“I’m not satisfied yet,” he said. “If you leave now, we’ll have to redo the entire shoot.”

Terrence stepped forward instantly.

“You f*cking—”

“Please,” I cut him off quickly, grabbing his arm. My voice softened. “Let’s just go home.”

Silence followed.

Terrence closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath as if restraining himself from doing something worse.

Finally, he exhaled sharply.

“Jeremy, prepare the car,” he ordered.

His men immediately moved.

As Terrence turned away, Chaos spoke again, his voice low but sharp.

“You’re really interesting,” he said, looking at me. “I still want another shoot with you.”

I turned to him slowly.

“I’m not interested in relationships or anything involving you,” I said flatly.

Chaos tilted his head. “Why? Because you’re in love with him?”

I didn’t answer.

That silence was enough.

A memory suddenly flickered in my mind.

The party. The masked man. That night I tried so hard to forget.

Then realization hit me.

“You…” I whispered.

His smile widened.

“Nice to see you again, Alliyah.”

My eyes narrowed. “Are you stalking me?”

He laughed softly, stepping closer. “What if I am?”

My chest tightened.

“How did you even recognize me?” I asked coldly.

He studied me like he was recalling every detail. “You’re more famous than you think. I’ve seen you everywhere—your photos, your movements, your habits.”

His voice lowered slightly. “Don’t misunderstand. I’m not a pervert. I just remember things I find… interesting.”

My expression darkened.

“Then you should also know who I’m with,” I said firmly.

He hummed. “Yeah.”

“Then stay away from me,” I warned. “I won’t be responsible for what happens to you if you keep pushing this.”

Instead of being intimidated, he only smiled.

“I can’t stop liking you,” he whispered, leaning closer. “What should I do?”

Before I could respond—

A sudden impact.

Chaos collapsed to the floor.

The entire room erupted in panic.

“Stay away from my wife.”

Terrence’s voice cut through everything like a blade.

I froze.

My heart stopped for a second.

He stood over Chaos, eyes dark and deadly, chest rising sharply with anger.

“One more step closer to her,” he said coldly, “and I’ll kill you.”

Silence.

Nobody moved.

Nobody breathed.

Then Terrence turned to me.

“Let’s go,” he said, grabbing my hand and pulling me out of the room.

I followed him without resistance, still stunned.

He said it.

He said I was his wife.

I didn’t know whether to feel angry or relieved.

Outside, chaos awaited us.

Flashing cameras.

Reporters shouting questions.

“Miss Ryde! What is your relationship with the CEO of ABCD Corp?”

“Are you dating Mr. Montevardo?”

“Is it true you’re involved with a mafia boss?”

The words blurred together.

Terrence’s men surrounded us quickly, shielding us as we moved toward the car.

Once inside, silence finally returned.

Terrence loosened his tie harshly, leaning back against the seat.

“F*ck,” he muttered.

I stared at him.

Then he spoke again.

“Quit modeling.”

My eyes widened.

“What?”

“I said quit your job, Alliyah.”

A bitter laugh escaped me. “No.”

His eyes snapped open, sharp and cold.

“Why? Do you like being near that bastard?”

My patience snapped.

“Why are you acting like this?” I shot back. “Every time I have a shoot, you behave like I belong to you.”

His gaze darkened.

“You are mine.”

I let out a dry laugh. “Yours? Because you said I’m your wife? Then what am I supposed to be? Your possession?”

My words hit something inside him.

In an instant, he grabbed my wrist and pulled me toward him.

I gasped as he positioned me on his lap, his hands gripping my waist firmly.

My breath hitched.

His eyes were cold, unreadable—but intense enough to silence every thought in my mind.

“You are mine,” he repeated, voice lower this time.

Then he pulled me closer by the nape and kissed me.