70 DAYS WITH THE WRONG BILLIONAIRE

SIGHT FOR SOUR EYES

SIGHT FOR SOUR EYES

ARIA'S POV

The day slips by in a pleasant blur. I savor the rare chance to unwind while the stylists work efficiently, tending to a swift pedicure, shaping my nails, and coaxing my hair into soft, flowing waves.

“You have such wonderful skin.” Rose Rose murmurs again, her voice warm with admiration. “Like a porcelain doll.”

Emily nods as she arranges loose curls around my face. “Most women spend thousands chasing this kind of glow. You simply wake up with it. I’m genuinely envious.”

I laugh, genuinely flattered by their praise. “I do put in the effort to maintain it.”

“Even Miss Stephanie’s skin couldn’t compare—” Emily gives Rose a subtle nudge, and the words die on her lips.

Apparently, I'm not supposed to know whatever Rose was about to share but the name Sephanie sounded so familiar but nothing came to mind.

If it is important, I will remember later.

By seven in the evening, we wrap up.

I stand before the full-length mirror and take in the reflection.

The black dress drapes over me like liquid shadow—elegant, commanding, alive with every subtle movement.

The diamond necklace they finally chose catches the light, accentuating the daring plunge at the back and the graceful slit.

I pair it with strappy gold heels and a matching clutch

I really look good, if I say so myself.

I thank the women warmly for their skilled work as they gather their supplies and prepare to leave.

Matteo appears at the doorway moments later.

He freezes mid-step, eyes widening for a brief second before he averts his gaze.

“Miss Aria,” he says, clearing his throat. “Mr. King is still at the office. I’ll drive you to him.”

We arrive at Noah’s headquarters, and Matteo guides the car into the private garage where a sleek black vehicle waits.

Noah sits in the back seat, absorbed with whatever he is doing in his laptop.

He glances up as I approach.

His eyes darken completely as they drag over every curve—the way the fabric skims my hips, the diamonds glowing against my skin. Raw hunger surges his face.

He steps out slowly, eyes locked on mine.

“f**k, Aria,” he said, voice low and husky. “You look goddamn gorgeous. You literally took my breath away.”

Heat rushes to my cheeks as I murmur my thanks.

“You look good too.” The words felt entirely inadequate. He looks so handsome cutting a commanding figure in his tailored black suit that leaves me momentarily speechless.

He holds the door open for me. The second his closes, the partition rises as deep bass and sultry rhythms wrap around us.

Noah draws me close and claims my mouth in a passionate kiss.

His tongue delves deep, stealing my breath. One hand braces above my head to support his weight, while the other slides through the thigh-high slit, caressing bare skin.

“I needed you in my bed last night,” he growls against my lips. “I’m tempted to cancel this plan. I want to eat you up, suck you dry and f**k you so hard until the only name you remember is mine.”

I bite back a moan. His filthy promises send liquid pooling low.

His mouth trails to my neck, sucking hard enough to draw a loud gasp from me.

His fingers tease higher along the slit. “I can’t wait to tear this off you later. Sink so deep you’ll feel me for days.”

When he finally pulls back, he smooths my hair with surprising tenderness while I repair my lipstick

I pray the music in the car helps swallow our sounds or I don't think I will ever be able to face his guys again.

“You ruined my makeup,” I grumble, trying to hide how wildly my heart races under his intense stare.

“You still look so good, princess.” He sounds far too satisfied.

I roll my eyes, fighting the foolish flutter in my chest. “My lips are swollen,”

I mutter, irritated that he remains perfectly composed while I scramble to fix myself.

“Relax. You look perfect.”

“Perfect? Hardly ” I retort.

“Almost there, sir.” Falcon’s voice drifts from the front.

I check my reflection one last time.

☆~☆

The instant we step onto the red carpet at the Vanguard Charity Gala, cameras shutters around us.

Flashes sear my vision. I curse softly, startled by the frenzy even though barricades hold the reporters back.

“Clumsy,” Noah murmurs, amusement threading his voice. He slides a possessive arm around my waist and pulls me flush against him.

Reporters shout over one another.

“Mr. King! Who is your date tonight?”

“Is this the new woman in your life?”

“Care to introduce the mystery lady?”

“Miss, where did you get that stunning dress?”

Noah ignores them completely, guiding me forward with steady confidence.

Inside the grand ballroom, heads turn the moment we enter. Whispers ripple through the crowd.

Eyes linger on my dress, tracing the necklace and the fluid lines of the gown.

Noah keeps me tucked close, his hand firm at my waist as they all come to welcome him in.

It seems people still gravitate towards him.

He introduces me to the charity gala’s hosts, a distinguished senator and his elegant wife, who both appear far younger than their years along with prominent investors, CEOs, and old-money dynasties.

I spot real potential for Aureline here. So I engage fully, offering thoughtful insights on the topics swirling around us.

Their visible surprise at my contributions amuses me. Did they expect nothing from me? Why invite me to the conversation then?

Their gazes hold admiration and a touch of envy, though I catch several subtle glares from their dates.

Eventually, I need the ladies’ room.

Noah seems reluctant to let me out of his sight as his hands until a nice lady named Alexis, Charles's girlfriend.

Noah introduces Charles as a friend, though their easy familiarity suggests something deeper.

“He’s completely smitten with you, you know,” Alexis says on our way to the powder room.

I feel caught; I had been glancing in Noah’s direction moments earlier.

“I’ve never seen him like this with any date, especially…not hovering, unwilling to let her out of his sight. Oh my God, he’s looking this way again. I can’t believe it.” Her excitement bubbles over.

“How did you manage it? So many women have tried and failed. They usually walk away with shattered hearts, nowhere close to capturing the city’s most eligible bachelor as they dreamt.”

As we finish freshening up, we hear loud voices echo from the hallway, footsteps hurrying closer.

“Didn’t I tell you? I saw her. I wonder what desperate thing she did to get Mr. King to bring her here. Hurry up, sis—she went this way.”

They were clearly talking about me.

The door swings open, and I come face to face with Lora, my ex-father’s daughter and her equally venomous cousin, Jessica.

What a sight for sour eyes.