Ashley
I took a deep breath, sat down in one of the chairs, and looked up at Owen. "Hello, Owen," I said as I crossed my legs and leaned back slightly in my seat. "How are you?"
He frowned the moment his eyes landed on my outfit, his brows knitting together in clear disapproval. "What is with the getup?" he asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You look like you are going to a playground and not a date, and what is with the writing on your shirt?"
I remained silent for a moment, unsure how to respond to him because that was exactly how he had always been.
For the longest time, I had been too deeply in love to notice the way he constantly talked down to me in public and criticized everything about me.
I had believed that he was the best man I had ever met, the man who would cherish me and stand beside me forever, but I had been completely blind to his true nature.
Now that I knew who he truly was, hearing him speak to me in that tone no longer had the power to hurt me.
Owen's face darkened when I didn't respond immediately, and his irritation quickly turned into anger. "I am talking to you, Ashley; answer me!" he shouted as he slammed his fist down hard on the table, the loud noise making me jump slightly in surprise.
The sound immediately drew the attention of the nearby tables, and several people turned their heads to look in our direction.
However, I didn't care in the slightest because I was perfectly content to let him continue making a fool of himself in front of everyone.
"Why are you dressed like that?" he demanded again, his voice harsh and impatient.
"I told you, Ashley," Ariana muttered beside me quietly as she leaned closer. "I told you to change your outfit and—"
I turned my head slowly toward her and glared sharply, cutting her off before she could continue.
Who exactly did she think she was to tell me what I should or shouldn't wear?
"Whatever I wear is my business," I replied firmly, my voice calm but far from friendly. "And this is a perfectly nice outfit."
In truth, it was far from a friendly choice. I had worn it deliberately to spite Owen and destroy the romantic fantasy he had planned for today, and judging by the furious look on his face, it was working exactly the way I had intended.
"There is absolutely nothing nice about that outfit," Owen snapped angrily. "You look like a cheap imitation of a high-class woman, and that ridiculous writing on your shirt—"
"I think she looks stunning in that outfit."
Owen's harsh words were suddenly cut short by a calm and confident voice that came from behind us.
I turned toward the speaker, my eyes widening slightly in shock the moment I saw who it was.
It was him.
The same man who had handed me a handkerchief in the elevator in the future.
The same man who had prayed for me at my funeral.
His piercing gray eyes locked onto mine as he walked toward our table, and he smiled at me in the same quiet, reassuring way he had the first time we met.
Ariana suddenly stood up beside me, her face lighting up with excitement as she turned toward him with a warm smile.
"Everyone, this is Christian Royal," she said proudly as she introduced him, gesturing toward him before pointing toward me and Owen. "This is my sister, Ashley, and her boyfriend, Owen."
Christian's gaze never left mine as he acknowledged Ariana with a small nod before extending his hand toward me.
"It is a pleasure to meet you, Ashley."
As I reached out to shake his hand, realization suddenly dawned on me.
Christian Royal.
The heir to the wealthiest family in the entire country.
It was no wonder he had seemed familiar the day I met him in the elevator, and the memory of the handkerchief he had given me with his family name embroidered on it returned to me clearly.
But even with that realization, one question continued to circle inside my mind.
What was he doing here with Ariana?
After all, he had been the only person who prayed sincerely for me at my funeral.
"What are you doing here, sir?" Owen asked cautiously, and I noticed the scowl on his face as he looked at Christian.
Sir?
Did that mean Christian Royal was Owen's boss?
That thought had never crossed my mind before because I had never bothered to ask about Owen's workplace in detail. All I knew was that he worked for the Royal family in some capacity.
Now the pieces finally began falling into place as I remembered the many times Owen had complained bitterly about his boss named Christian, always speaking with resentment about the trillionaire who acted like he was above everyone else.
Christian simply smiled politely at him. "Call me Christian," he said in a relaxed tone. "We are out of the boardroom."
Owen's face reddened slightly with embarrassment, but he nodded and sat down beside Christian while facing me with an obvious glare.
"I…" Owen began to say something, but Christian interrupted him again before he could finish.
"I believe you owe this lady an apology for embarrassing her in front of everyone," Christian suggested calmly.
The glare in Owen's eyes grew even darker, but the sight of his frustration made a smile slowly spread across my face.
When our eyes met, I could clearly see the hesitation in Owen's expression. He had never wanted to apologize for anything he had done to me in the past, but now he had no choice because Christian Royal was his boss.
"I shouldn't have raised my voice at you, Ashley," Owen said stiffly after a moment. "Seeing as my boss is here, I don't want to leave the wrong impression. Still… your…"
Before he could finish speaking, Ariana suddenly laughed and clapped her hands together.