THE ENEMY’S BRIDE

Chapter 9

Katherine’s POV

The dinner table was silent as everyone stared at each other. The girl Elizabeth was giving me the stink eyes, and she wasn’t even hiding it.

“So where are you from?” Andrew’s mother suddenly asked, making me look at her.

“I’m from—”

I didn’t even finish my sentence when a middle-aged man entered. “Is everyone having dinner without me?” he said in a loud, commanding voice. I looked up to see him already making his way to the dinner table.

Andrew’s mother immediately stood up, kissing his cheek as she greeted him before he took his seat.

“So, what’s going on here, and who is she?” his father asked, his voice deep and laced with curiosity as his eyes fell on me.

Andrew didn’t even flinch. He placed his hand on mine, making me freeze a little before saying, “She’s my wife.”

The room went still.

Elizabeth choked slightly on her wine while Andrew’s mother looked like she had just swallowed something bitter. His father’s eyes narrowed.

“Your what?” he asked slowly, like he needed to hear it again.

“My wife,” Andrew repeated, calm but firm.

Silence. Then tension. Thick enough to cut with a knife.

Katherine’s POV

Hey, I didn’t ask to be here in all this family mess, I thought bitterly, I’m a woman with a broken marriage and a homeless situation that shoved me into this mess.

Before I could even shift uncomfortably in my seat, his father suddenly slammed his hand on the table.

“What?!” he roared, standing up with a furious expression that made me flinch in place.

Andrew, in contrast, was completely unbothered. He calmly continued cutting through his steak, like he hadn’t just poked a lion with a stick.

“How dare you go get married behind our backs,” his father spat, “after we already planned your marriage to Elizabeth!”

Andrew put down his utensils gently, dabbed his mouth with the napkin, and looked up at his father with a blank, unreadable face.

“Well,” he said, voice cool and sharp, “you didn’t tell me when you planned that stupid marriage to that thing. So why should I tell you when I married someone else?”

I almost gave him a silent thumbs-up under the table. The way he called Elizabeth that thing made it hard to hold back my smirk—but I knew better. I bit the inside of my cheek and fought the urge.

“How dare you talk back to me?” His father yelled, throwing his glass of wine in Andrew’s face. I gasped, quickly standing up as some of the liquid splashed onto me.

Now I see where Andrew got his maniac behavior from.

Andrew slowly got up from his chair, pushing it back so hard that it fell to the floor with a loud clatter.

“We’ll be leaving now,” Andrew said coldly, grabbing my hand and walking toward the door. His father’s shouting continued as his mother tried to calm him down.

The ride home was silent, the tension in the air thick. I felt a bit disappointed—dinner had been ruined, and I was starving.

“Uhm…” I started to speak, but Andrew pressed harder on the accelerator, making the car lurch forward. I gasped, clutching the seat as fear surged through me.

—

After hours of torture, we finally arrived home. I could still feel the adrenaline from the drive, but all I could focus on was how reckless it had been. He nearly killed us out there.

I rushed into the house, eager to retreat to my room to avoid any unnecessary drama.

I was lying on my bed, thinking about how my life had taken such a downward spiral. How did I get here? I thought to myself, my stomach growling in protest.

I sighed. I didn’t have anything to eat. I couldn’t even use my phone to order food because I didn’t have any money on me. Then there was that so-called fake husband of mine, always mad at everything.

I really wished I could go back to the time when my parents were still alive. Back then, I didn’t have to worry about anything.

Suddenly, a knock at the door pulled me from my thoughts. I stood up and opened it to find Andrew standing there, looking at me like I was some kind of prey.

“I need you,” he said, making my eyes widen.