The Subtitute Bride

Chapter 9: The Gala And His Jealousy

"You're going to a gala tonight. With me."

Kaela nearly dropped her phone. "What? Tonight? Rhys, I can't. I don't have a dress, I don't have—"

"Clara already prepared everything. 7 PM. Be ready," Rhys said over the phone and hung up.

Kaela stared at the walk-in closet. And just like he said, there was a red gown hanging there. A real designer gown. Not the cheap dresses she used to wear in her old apartment.

It was beautiful. Too beautiful for a substitute.

At 7 PM sharp, Rhys was waiting downstairs. He was wearing a black tuxedo, his hair perfectly styled, looking like he just walked out of a magazine. But when Kaela came down the stairs, he stopped breathing.

The red dress fit her perfectly. It hugged her waist, showed her bare shoulders, and flowed to the floor. Her hair was curled, her lips were red, and she wasn't wearing his shirt anymore. She was wearing a dress that made every man look.

"You..." Rhys cleared his throat. "You look... decent."

Kaela rolled her eyes. "Wow. Thank you so much, Mr. Anderson. So romantic."

"You wanted me to say you look beautiful?" he said, stepping closer. His eyes scanned her from head to toe. "You already know you do."

Kaela's heart was pounding. "Rule Number Three, Rhys. No flirting."

"I'm not flirting. I'm stating a fact," he whispered, his hand hovering near her back but not touching. "Can you walk in those heels?"

"I can try."

He offered his arm. "Try not to fall. The press will be there, and after that article, they will be watching us."

She took his arm. His arm was warm and strong.

The gala was at the Anderson Hotel's grand ballroom. The moment they entered, all cameras turned to them. Flash. Flash. Flash.

"Billionaire Rhys Anderson and his wife Kaela! Is it true you bought her for $2 million?"

"Kaela! Are you really a gold digger?"

Rhys pulled Kaela closer, his hand now firmly on her waist. "My wife and I are very much in love. That article is fake news spread by a jealous ex. Right, darling?"

Kaela froze. Darling?

Everyone was looking at her. She had to play along. She smiled sweetly and looked up at Rhys. "Yes, darling. Some people just can't accept that we're happy."

Rhys looked surprised for a second at how good she was at acting. Then he leaned down and kissed her forehead. The cameras went crazy.

"Let's dance," he said.

On the dance floor, Rhys pulled her close. One hand on her waist, one holding her hand. They were so close Kaela could smell his cologne. She could feel his heartbeat.

"You lied well," he said quietly as they swayed to the music.

"I'm learning from the best liar," she whispered back.

He chuckled. "You still mad that I said you look decent?"

"A little."

He spun her around and pulled her back, this time even closer. His lips were near her ear. "Fine. You look breathtaking, Kaela. So breathtaking that I want to punch every man in this room who is staring at you right now."

Kaela's breath caught. She looked around. It was true. Many men were staring at her.

"Are you jealous, Mr. Anderson?" she teased.

"Don't be ridiculous. I'm your contract husband. I'm supposed to be possessive. It's in the contract," he said, but his grip on her waist tightened.

Just then, a man in a blue suit approached them. "Excuse me, may I steal your beautiful wife for one dance?"

Kaela looked at Rhys. Rhys's jaw was tight again. That deadly calm look from this morning was back.

"No," Rhys said coldly. "You may not."

The man backed away immediately.

"Rhys!" Kaela whispered. "You can't do that!"

"Why not? You're my wife. Even if it's just for a year, no one touches what's mine in public," he said possessively.

Kaela's knees felt weak. What's mine.

The music stopped. Everyone clapped. But Rhys didn't let go.

From across the room, Vanessa was watching them. She was wearing a white dress, pretending to be innocent, but her eyes were full of hate. She was holding a glass of wine.

Kaela saw her coming before anyone else did.

"Oh no," Kaela whispered.

Vanessa walked straight towards them, fake smile on her face. "Rhys! Kaela! So happy to see you two still pretending!"

Rhys stepped in front of Kaela protectively. "Vanessa, not here."

"Why not? Everyone should know the truth! That she is just a poor girl you picked up from the slums! That dress doesn't make her classy, Rhys!"

And before anyone could stop her, Vanessa threw her red wine towards Kaela.

Kaela closed her eyes, waiting for the stain.

But it never came.

Rhys had moved so fast. He pulled Kaela behind him, and the wine splashed all over his white shirt and black tuxedo.

The whole ballroom gasped.

Rhys didn't even look at his ruined shirt. He looked at Vanessa, his voice dangerously low. "You just made the biggest mistake of your life."

Vanessa turned pale. "I... I didn't mean—"

Security came and pulled Vanessa away.

Kaela was shaking. "Your shirt... Rhys, your shirt is ruined."

Rhys looked down at her. He wiped a small drop of wine that landed on her shoulder with his thumb. His touch was gentle.

"It's just a shirt, Kaela," he said softly. "Are you okay?"

Kaela nodded, tears in her eyes. Not because she was scared. But because for the first time, someone protected her like that.

"Let's go home," Rhys said, taking off his jacket and wrapping it around her shoulders. His jacket was warm and smelled like him.

"But the gala—"

"I don't care about the gala. I care that you're cold and scared."

He picked her up slightly and led her out of the ballroom, ignoring all the cameras flashing. That night, every news outlet had the same headline:

BILLIONAIRE RHYS ANDERSON PROTECTS HIS WIFE! IS THIS LOVE REAL?

And in the car, Kaela was still wearing his jacket. And Rhys was still looking at her like he wanted to kiss her but was trying so hard not to.

"Rule Number Four, Kaela," he whispered. "Don't fall in love with me."

"I'm trying not to," she whispered back.

"Trying isn't enough," he said, leaning closer.

And for a second, Kaela thought he was going to kiss her for real. Not for the press. Not for the cameras. For real.