CHAPTER 205
It was the elegant woman from the room next door.
Arianna returned the smile. “Yes, we do.”
The woman stepped into the elevator, standing beside Arianna as the doors closed behind her. Arianna couldn't help but notice their reflections in the mirrored walls. To her surprise, they were nearly the same height, with strikingly similar builds. From behind, someone might easily mistake them for the same person at a glance.
Curiosity piqued, Arianna’s gaze drifted back to the woman's face. Though their figures were alike, their faces were distinctly different. Arianna's features had a softness to them—her rounded cheeks and the way her eyes curved into crescent moons when she smiled gave her an almost cherubic charm. In contrast, the other woman exuded a refined elegance, her beauty understated but captivating in its simplicity.
As Arianna discreetly studied her, the woman’s eyes fell on Arianna’s hand, particularly the slender fingers adorned with a wedding ring.
“That’s a stunning ring,” she remarked suddenly, her tone casual yet observant.
Arianna blinked, taking a moment to process the compliment. She followed the woman’s gaze to the ring on her finger—the very ring she had just put on during the ceremony. An odd mix of emotions welled up inside her, a swirl of uncertainty and melancholy. The ring was indeed beautiful, but its significance felt uncertain, almost temporary.
Hiding her inner turmoil, Arianna forced a bright smile and responded politely, “Thank you.”
The elevator chimed softly as it reached their floor. The doors slid open, and both women stepped out, heading toward their respective rooms. As they reached their doors, the woman offered a soft, almost enigmatic farewell.
“See you around, Ms. Johnson.”
Arianna assumed it was just a courteous gesture and nodded in acknowledgement.
“Goodbye.”
With that, she turned the key in the lock and entered her room.
The woman, however, lingered in the hallway, watching Arianna’s retreating figure until she disappeared inside. An unsettling smile slowly spread across her lips before she finally opened her door and slipped inside her room.
...
The car cruised slowly along the winding roads, the silence inside almost as heavy as the humid air outside. Ronald could feel the tension building, pressing down on him like a weight he couldn’t shake off. He had been driving aimlessly around Barrkjaer Island for what felt like an eternity, and Xander hadn’t given him a single directive on where to head next. They had practically circled the entire island at this point. Was he supposed to keep driving until the fuel ran out?
Ronald’s nerves were fraying at the edges. He knew something had to give; this wasn’t what Xander had in mind when he brought Arianna here. The whole point of this trip was to rekindle whatever connection they had left, not to let it wither in silence.
He swallowed hard, trying to work up the nerve to speak, his hands gripping the steering wheel tighter than necessary.
Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore. With a deep breath, he ventured cautiously,
“Mr. King, should we… head back to the hotel?”
The question hung in the air like a lead balloon. Ronald didn’t need to glance in the rearview mirror to feel the intensity of Xander’s glare. It was like a physical force, causing a cold sweat to break out on Ronald’s forehead. He could almost hear the cogs in Xander’s mind turning, and it made him question whether he’d been right to suggest this whole plan in the first place.
But then again, they were already here.
They had gone too far to turn back now. If Xander let this moment slip through his fingers, the whole point of bringing Arianna here would be lost. The effort, the planning—everything would be for nothing.
Ronald had been in Xander’s employ long enough to know that sometimes, the only way out was through. Gathering every ounce of courage he had left, he ventured further, though his voice trembled slightly,
“Mr. King, I—there’s something on my mind, but I’m not sure if it’s my place to say…”
The silence was deafening, but Xander didn’t interrupt. Encouraged by the lack of immediate rebuke, Ronald pressed on, his words careful but insistent.
Despite his anxiety, Ronald pressed on, sensing this might be his last chance to sway Xander.
"Mr. King," Ronald started cautiously,
"there's something I think you should keep in mind. Most women, regardless of who they are, respond well to a little kindness. They appreciate reassuring words, a bit of warmth… perhaps it wouldn’t be a bad idea to soften your tone when talking to Mrs. King."
Xander’s expression hardened, making it clear he wasn’t exactly pleased with the advice.
Ronald stole a glance at the rearview mirror, observing his boss’s stern expression. He knew that Xander was the type of man who excelled in the boardroom, delivering presentations with razor-sharp precision and discussing market strategies for hours. But when it came to matters of the heart, especially expressing affection, the man was utterly out of his depth. His words, however well-intended, often came out wrong, leaving a trail of misunderstandings in their wake.
Realizing he needed to tread lightly, Ronald tried a different approach.
"Mr. King," he said, his tone more thoughtful now, "it’s not about saying a lot of sweet things. Sometimes, just one phrase can work wonders. There’s a simple sentence that every woman loves to hear."
For the first time, Xander looked genuinely interested, one eyebrow arching in curiosity.
"And what would that be?" he asked.
Ronald cleared his throat, summoning his courage, and delivered the words with as much passion as he could muster: "I love you."
Xander’s reaction was immediate and unfavourable—his usually composed features twisted into a scowl.
Ronald’s heart skipped a beat, and he quickly backpedalled.
"No, no, Mr. King, you’ve got it all wrong! I wasn’t saying that I love you! I mean, I do respect you, of course, but what I meant was that *you* should say ‘I love you’ to Mrs. King. Of course, I do admire you, but not in that way—"
"Enough!" Xander snapped, cutting him off abruptly. His patience had reached its limit.
"Forget that. We’re going with Plan B."
Ronald’s face fell. He was at a loss for words.
If Xander couldn’t bring himself to say three simple words, then what hope was there for any real progress? But Plan B? That sounded more like a corporate strategy than a romantic gesture.
He sighed internally, recognizing the futility of arguing further. Xander was a man who thrived on structure and control, and if he couldn’t bend to something as simple as a heartfelt confession, Ronald knew better than to push him any further. For now, he would have to trust that Plan B—whatever that might entail—would be enough to bridge the growing gap between Xander and Arianna.
