The Strange Groom's Cursed Bride-Chapter 76: Pool room

Alice sat on the edge of her bed, arms crossed, eyes glued to the enormous painting now hanging on her wall like it was mocking her. Again.

Well, to be fair, she had put that there herself. She needed to keep looking at it.

And no matter how long she stared, she still arrived at the same conclusion.

It was Paula’s. But how to dig into this? She still didn’t know. She was here. In this room.

"Ugh," she muttered under her breath, flopping back on the bed dramatically. "This is what I get for wanting a boring life."

And she meant it.

After the whirlwind of her life flipping inside out, boring actually sounded wonderful.

Boring was underrated. She would’ve happily spent the next year eating bland cereal, bingeing mid-budget dramas, and avoiding anything that remotely resembled conflict. But fate had other plans.

Because her life was meant to be anything but smooth.

And tomorrow... was Exercise Day.

She winced at the thought.

The entire estate would be there. Not just the perfectly dressed, tight-knit members of the environmental committee she had met earlier, but everyone. The wealthy version of the nosy aunties, gossiping uncles, and the elite families who treated reputation like religion. Including Hardy.

She was supposed to give him feedback on something, but she had nothing. Not a scrap. Not a word.

And of course, her charming, reluctant husband may be there too. May. But she doubted it.

Hades seemed like the type who would stuff his foot into his mouth first than actually showing up for useless things like that.

But if by the faintest chance he did show up, maybe he’d grunt instead of greet people. Maybe he’d break someone’s spine during a relay race. Honestly, it was a toss-up.

She uselessly thought of USELESS THINGS related to him until a knock pulled her out of her spiraling.

She sat up, blinking in shock at her audacity to get lost in rubbish.

"Miss Boss?" came Rowan’s voice through the door.

Again. She had raised a brow at that title when he came in at noon to offer her lunch, which was bland porridge, by the way. And then, again when he picked up the dishes.

She was practically... locked in here.

Not like she tried going out anyway. The residue of fever was still lingering.

She didn’t open the door. She just spoke to him with the door still closed.

"I made dinner," he announced.

Her eyes narrowed. "If it’s porridge again—"

"It’s not porridge!" Rowan said quickly. "Well, not exactly porridge."

There was a pause.

"...It’s a porridge upgrade."

Alice rubbed her forehead. "I had porridge yesterday."

"And lunch."

"And lunch! Yes!" she echoed, exasperated.

"Okay, but this one has personality," Rowan said defensively from behind the door. "I added—wait, never mind. Just come and taste it. I risked my life in the kitchen."

"Risked it with what? Cinnamon?"

There was a dramatic sigh on the other side of the door.

She cracked the door open, peeking out suspiciously.

Rowan stood there holding a tray, grinning like an enthusiastic golden retriever.

"Ta-da!"

She looked at the tray. It had a bowl. And steam. The smell wasn’t entirely unpleasant... which was suspicious.

"What is it?"

"Sweet corn and coconut millet, with a spicy smoked pepper oil drizzle." He puffed up proudly. "And I chopped parsley. For garnish."

Alice blinked. "So... porridge. With a hat."

Rowan looked mildly offended. "It’s reinvented porridge. Like a porridge with a PhD."

She narrowed her eyes, a flicker of suspicion crossing her face.

Rowan’s smile didn’t falter, but his eyes, for a split second, flickered. "The Boss insisted on a strict, highly nutritious, and surprisingly bland diet for you. Don’t worry, though, from tomorrow, you’re trying my meals. You’d understand why I was awarded the best chef in Culinary school." He winked.

Alice looked at him, studying his eager face. "You went to a Culinary school?"

The suspicion was there in her tone. If he heard it, he didn’t mention it.

"How else would I get to cook in this fancy place?" he replied, a hint of something unreadable in his eyes.

Alice didn’t buy that.

Gavin was obvious, yes. But Milo, Rowan, and even the woman, whom she hadn’t met since she moved in here. They moved with a purpose that felt far beyond domestic duties. She suspected they were all more than they seemed.

She could swear it on her honor as one of the most notorious shady people in the North.

Rowan shifted the tray slightly. "Come on, follow me. I think you’ll need a change of scenery to fully appreciate this masterpiece." He turned and headed toward the far end of the hallway, away from the living room and toward an unfamiliar corridor.

Alice hesitated for a moment, then followed, her suspicion warring with a genuine curiosity about where he was taking her. She was starting to get a sense that nothing in this apartment was truly "accidental."

He led her to a set of double doors, which slid open automatically, revealing a spacious, private balcony. It wasn’t the main one that overlooked the sprawling estate gardens, but one facing a different, equally impressive view. Below, a pristine, almost iridescent indoor swimming pool shimmered under the yellowy glow of evening from the high, open windows on the level below. This unique architectural design, with its soaring, open-concept glass walls and ceiling, meant the pool area was visible from this elevated vantage point on the upper floor, allowing natural light to flood the space during the day and offering a clear, unobstructed view from above.

The sight was surprisingly calming. The air here felt lighter, less suffocating than the heavy silence of her room.

"Thought you might need this," Rowan said, stepping aside for her to fully take in the view.

He carefully placed the tray down with the porridge, bottle of water and glass down on the nice mini table overlooking the pool area.

He didn’t leave when he was done. He just stood there, watching her with that unnervingly cheerful demeanor.

Alice walked to the railing, breathing in the fresh, cool air. The gentle lapping of water in the pool below made her feel oddly at ease.

It was a beautiful, tranquil spot, and a strange place to bring her dinner.

She glanced back at Rowan. He was still watching her, his head tilted slightly, an almost innocent curiosity in his gaze. He looked like he was expecting something, waiting. He seemed to be subtly assessing her, perhaps for her reaction to the view, or maybe for something else entirely. She instinctively knew this wasn’t just about offering her a nice meal with a view. He was trying to get a read on her. freewebnøvel_com

"It’s... lovely," Alice said, her voice softer than before. She took another deep breath, letting the tranquility of the moment wash over her as she took her seat.

"Glad you like it," Rowan replied, his voice still too bright. "Sometimes, a change of perspective helps, right? Gets the mind clear for... whatever’s next." His words seemed innocuous, yet they carried a subtle undertone, a veiled question about her plans, her thoughts.

She turned back to the tray, picking up the spoon. "What exactly do you mean by ’whatever’s next’?" she asked, her voice casual, but her eyes sharp, watching him for any tell.

Rowan merely smiled, shrugging. "Oh, you know. Life. The estate. All the little surprises here and there." He gestured vaguely towards the sprawling grounds. "You never know what’s around the corner in this place."

She eyed him, then decided to let it be. She picked up the spoon and took a bite of the porridge.

It was... good. Damn it.

She mustn’t have been so subtle in her expression because he smiled.

"Glad you like it. It’s a new recipe."

"Thank you," she said to him. Genuinely. If she had one more bland meal, she might have cried.

He didn’t reply, just pulled out his phone, checked the time, and quietly nodded to himself. "Right. I should let you enjoy this in peace." He smiled, then added casually, "Take your time. I have to go prepare dinner for the others."

With that, he turned and left, leaving her to enjoy the peace and quiet.

She looked at the water. She had never wanted so badly to dive into it and bury herself for some minutes. But yeah, she could not swim. So that would mean death.

Pause.

There was movement.

She froze.

The glass walls below offered a full view of the private pool deck. And right there, bathed in the yellowy glow of the evening light—

Hades Wildfire.

He walked into view like he had all the time in the world, a towel tossed lazily over one shoulder, earphones in. He was wearing a casual t-shirt. And short. SHORT!

His body was, of course, absurdly chiseled. The kind of physique that wasn’t real. The kind that made people question whether gods lived among them. His dark hair with those suspicious white streaks, usually so meticulously styled, was now let down, falling casually around his face.

He dropped the towel on a nearby chair.

Then pulled off the earphones.

And stripped his shirt off.

Alice nearly choked on her spoon.

What—why—what was this?! She backed up slightly, sinking deeper into the plush chair, but her feet didn’t move. Her eyes were rooted there like they’d been hijacked.

She’d seen the man angry, silent, threatening—but this? This was casual danger. Unbothered menace in motion.

The tattoos... all in the open. A complex tapestry of dark ink mapping powerful muscles, swirling across his shoulders, down his back, and disappearing beneath the waistband of his shorts. They were more extensive than she’d ever realized.

He stood at the edge of the pool, stretching his arms with military precision before diving in cleanly—like liquid control, disappearing under the surface without a ripple.

Alice lowered the bowl to the table, forgotten.

Her face flushed warm—equal parts embarrassment and sheer what the hell is happening?

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