(Not) The Billionaire’s Replacement Bride

“The day has already turned late. After a lunch, more precisely called dinner, Ariana asked Chris to take her wherever the man went. And here they are. In Chris’s luxurious apartment.

Ariana is enjoying the beauty of the city lights from several hundred meters above. Chris’s apartment on the twenty-fifth floor has its own beautiful view.ConTEent bel0ngs to Nôv(e)lD/rama(.)Org .

“It must be expensive to live here,” Ariana comments without taking her eyes off the streets far below.

“What’s the point of my dad having a lot of money if it can’t be enjoyed?” the man answers arrogantly.”

“Ariana scoffed. ‘I thought you’d be living in a one-bedroom apartment or something,’ she commented again. Considering Chris’s less-than-ideal relationship with his father, Ariana had thought her friend would be independent. ‘But I forgot that you’re a super rich kid. So, it’s only natural to have a fancy apartment like this palace.’ There was a hint of sarcasm in Ariana’s words that made Chris chuckle. He tousled Ariana’s hair casually. He stood beside her, also admiring the view.

‘What do you want to eat? I’ll cook for you.’ Chris seemed to place his motorcycle keys on the bar table and took off his leather jacket. Now he was only wearing a plain white T-shirt that, despite being plain, Ariana knew cost as much as three or four times her jeans. He also wore designer jeans that Ariana would think twice about buying. His rider leather shoes were off, and he was barefoot.

‘Anything cooked by Chef Chris Alessandro, Ariana will eat. Having it cooked privately like this, it must be expensive if you’re paying,’ she muttered again, with a hint of sarcasm. Chris laughed again at her remark.

‘I thought after not seeing you for two years, your sarcastic nature would have changed. But it seems I was wrong.’ Ariana glanced at the thirty-year-old man and shrugged. Chris had already walked to the kitchen and was ready to cook.”

“No alcohol, please,” Ariana requested as Chris started taking out ingredients from his refrigerator. Chris shook his head. “I didn’t have time to shop for many ingredients. So, there’s no alcohol here,” he replied. Ariana nodded.

Ariana explored the apartment, opening every door and observing what was inside while Chris cooked. Shortly after, Chris called her. He had prepared a stir-fry with fillet chicken, sliced onions, and green bell peppers. Mashed potatoes and a few sausages accompanied the dish. Smelling the aroma, Ariana tried her best not to drool. “Does food really have a different smell when it’s cooked by a skilled chef? Or is it just me being extra?” Ariana chuckled from behind the bar table.

Chris shrugged. “Maybe it’s not because it’s cooked by a chef that makes the aroma different. But because the one cooking is handsome and charming,” Chris replied with a teasing wink. Ariana widened her eyes and then pretended to be nauseous because of his comment. Chris laughed again.

Laughing together, it felt so easy with Ariana.

They brought the food to the dining table. The aroma of onions made Ariana’s stomach growl even louder. Chris handed her an empty plate, and without hesitation, Ariana scooped mashed potatoes and poured the chicken onto her plate. “Mmm, the taste made by the Chef is indeed different,” she praised. “Even the onions taste sweet, and the bell peppers aren’t spicy.”

Chris chuckled again. “So, if it’s not cooked by a Chef, do the onions turn sour? Do the bell peppers turn… what? Bitter?” he teased.

Ariana nodded with a amused expression. “Yeah, if it’s cooked by someone else, maybe the onions become all tangy or something,” she replied casually. Chris tousled Ariana’s hair once more.

“I think living with you would keep me forever young,” he commented. This made Ariana choke on her food. She coughed and quickly handed her a drink. “Oh my, you’re that surprised, huh? I should’ve waited for you to finish chewing before saying something like that,” he said, patting Ariana’s back gently. Ariana could breathe normally again and now looked at Chris.

“You’re late, dear,” she said casually, taking another sip of water. “I just got married last night.” Now it was Chris’s turn to choke on the food he had cooked himself.

Chris laughed. “If you’re joking, this is really bad timing,” he said, disbelieving. Ariana just shrugged and continued eating her meal. “You’re not wearing a wedding ring; can it be true that you’re already married?” Chris reached for Ariana’s hand; both were empty. Besides the watch on her left hand, Ariana wore no jewelry. No necklace, no earrings.

Ariana let go of her hand, which Chris was still holding. “Later. Clean up the food first,” she ordered with his mouth full. Knowing Ariana’s character, Chris just obeyed and continued eating.

Chris washed the dishes hurriedly. He couldn’t wait to hear the whole story. He glanced at Ariana several times, but she seemed impassive.

Chris guided Ariana in front of the TV, sitting right beside her. He propped one foot up on the sofa, giving his full attention to Ariana.

“So, how could you get married without telling me anything?” he asked, his tone passionate.

Ariana, sitting cross-legged beside Chris, just stared at the flat screen in front of her. “Short version or long version?” she asked flatly.

“Long version.”

Ariana raised the corner of her mouth. “This isn’t the marriage I wanted, not the one I planned, and definitely not with the person I desire,” Ariana began her story. “You know my old story, right?” she asked.

Ariana had known Chris for the past twelve years. He was her step-aunt’s nephew. They got to know each other right when her father married Chris’s aunt. Since then, despite their five-year age gap, they became close friends.

Chris, known for his wild ways, managed to bond with Ariana, who was systematic yet reserved. Their friendship endured till now, even though they often clashed. Yet, they always found a way back to harmony.

Chris was Ariana’s second best friend, the first being Amber.