Ch. 31 – The True Husband

The three women giggled playfully, picking up their glasses and immediately taking long, appreciative sips. They turned their full attention back to Rhys, acting completely lovey-dovey and devoted. They began doting on him incessantly, taking turns lifting their respective chalices to his lips, teasing him and feeding him sips of each distinct, high-proof elixir. Rhea fed him her warm, spiced cinnamon brew; Dione offered her crisp, ice-chilled gin; Ariadne coaxed him into drinking her sweet, dark plum liqueur.

Swallowed up in their overwhelming affection, laughter, and relentless attention, Rhys lost track of his intake. Within twenty minutes, through their eager coaxing, he had somehow consumed far more alcohol than any of them. A heavy, warm buzz settled over his brain, softening his edge and dulling his hyper-vigilant hero instincts.

Slightly lightheaded, Rhys reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. The screen illuminated with a new text from Marcus.

Marcus:BRO!! Whatever you told me to do, IT WORKED!! I interrupted her and flexed about my old fights like you said, and her whole vibe completely shifted! She’s smiling, she’s laughing, and now she’s taking me to another spot! You’re a literal genius, Rhys! I owe you big time!

Rhys stared at the glowing text, his buzzed brain trying to process the absolute disaster he had just unleashed. Aw, shit... Rhys thought, rubbing his temples in horror. His sabotage plan had backfired spectacularly. Vespera’s twisted, sadistic mind had actually found Marcus’s forced arrogance amusing, dragging his poor friend even deeper into her web. But as Rhys looked at the enthusiastic emojis, a small part of him sighed—at least Marcus was happy for now.

“Hey there, gorgeous...” a sleek, confident voice suddenly cut through the thumping bass of the club.

Rhys looked up from his phone. Standing beside Ariadne at the bar was a tall, handsome guy in an expensive designer suit. He was holding a drink, sporting a cocky, flirtatious smirk, clearly trying to hit on the former villainess.

Ariadne didn’t even turn her head. She kept her back partially to him, swirling her chalice, completely ignoring his existence.

The guy, fueled by drunken confidence and a total lack of situational awareness, leaned in closer. “Come on, sweetheart, I saw you walk in. A stunning girl like you shouldn’t be standing around waiting for drinks. Let me buy you—”

Ariadne snapped her head around, her dark eyes flashing with a cold, terrifying lethal malice that had once struck terror into entire city blocks. “Back off,” she commanded, her voice dropping into a razor-sharp, dangerous register. “I am obviously not interested.”

To make her point completely unambiguous, Ariadne turned away from the stranger, reached out, and wrapped her arms tightly around Rhys’s waist, burying her face into his chest with a soft, possessive purr.

The flirtatious guy took a sudden, nervous step back, his cocky smirk instantly evaporating. His eyes dropped down to Ariadne’s left hand resting against Rhys’s velvet jacket, catching the subtle glint of a ring on her finger. Trying desperately to save face in front of the surrounding crowd, the guy cleared his throat.

“Ah... right. Married,” the guy muttered, adjusting his collar. He looked at Rhys smugly, as if he had figured out the puzzle. “Guess you’re her husband, huh?”

Rhys offered a subtle, slightly smug smirk of his own, feeling a small surge of male satisfaction that the guy was finally backing off. He didn’t even care that the guy thought he was Ariadne’s Husband.

Then, the guy’s eyes drifted past Rhys to Dione, who was currently rubbing Rhys’s shoulder, and then to Rhea, who was leaning heavily against Rhys’s back with her arms wrapped around his waist.

The stranger’s brow furrowed in utter confusion. “Wait a minute...” the guy blurted out, losing his composure entirely. “If you’re her husband... why the hell are you curled up with two other insanely hot women?!”

Rhys’s smug smirk instantly froze. The guy had not gotten the picture at all.

“Look, man,” Rhys began, opening his mouth to clarify that he wasn’t exactly married to Ariadne, “I’m not her—”

Before Rhys could finish, Ariadne cut him off. A coy, dangerously wicked smile spread across her dark lips. She turned to the confused stranger, resting her chin on Rhys’s chest as she spoke.

“Oh, he is my husband,” Ariadne purred loudly, her voice carrying over the music so Dione and Rhea could hear. “He’s all of our husbands. And we just love to share.”

The stranger stood frozen, his mouth opening and closing like a landed fish. Speechless, completely baffled, his brain utterly shattered by the revelation.

To drive the point home and thoroughly stake her claim, Ariadne grabbed Rhys by the lapels of his velvet jacket, pulled his head down, and planted a long, passionate, toe-curling kiss right on his lips. She didn’t hold back, her tongue sliding past his lips in a blatant, public display of total ownership.

When she finally released him, the stranger was staring at Rhys not with confusion, but with absolute, unadulterated, messianic reverence.

“Dude...” the guy breathed out, his eyes wide as saucers, looking at Rhys like he was a god who had descended from the heavens. “Teach me your ways. Please. What is your secret?!”

Rhys’s cheeks flushed a furious, burning red. “I—it’s not like that—” Rhys stammered, deeply embarrassed.

The guy stayed for another two agonizing minutes, showering Rhys with endless compliments, calling him a absolute legend, and subtly begging for dating tips, before finally stumbling away into the crowd, completely awestruck by what he had just witnessed.

Rhys let out a frustrated sigh, thoroughly tired of being labeled as three different women’s husband in public. He turned sharply to Ariadne, crossing his arms.

“What the hell was that, Ariadne?!” Rhys demanded, keeping his voice low under the music. “Why did you tell him that?!”

Ariadne looked at him. The playful, mischievous smirk vanished from her face, replaced by a strangely intense, quiet gaze that lasted for what felt like an eternity. She stepped in close, her manicured fingers lightly trailing up his chest until her lips were hovering mere millimeters from his ear.

“Because, hero...” Ariadne whispered softly, her warm breath sending a sharp shiver down his spine. “After all those years of us fighting each other... back when you were Omen, and I was on the dark side... I spent more time thinking about you, chasing you, and obsessing over you than I ever did with my actual husband. Technically, you’ve been in my life longer. So in my mind... you are my true husband.”

Rhys stood completely speechless, his buzzed brain entirely unable to comprehend the dizzying, terrifying mental gymnastics Ariadne had just executed to justify that logic.