Dark Revenge Of A Jilted Bride: Till Life Do Us Part!-Chapter 79: Goodies

Gianna woke to the sound of her phone vibrating insistently against the bedside table.

At first, it didn’t register as anything more than an intrusion into a half-formed dream. Her mind was slow, heavy, floating somewhere between sleep and awareness, tangled in fading images she didn’t want to chase.

She rolled onto her side, face pressed into the pillow, hoping the sound would stop.

It didn’t.

The vibration came again. Longer this time. Louder.

Her brows knitted faintly as consciousness crept in, her body still sluggish, limbs heavy beneath the sheets. With a quiet groan, she cracked one eye open and let her gaze wander, unfocused, until it landed on the clock on the wall.

6:03 a.m.

Her lips parted slightly. Who on earth would be calling her at this hour?

Her first thought was Vance. Maybe something had gone wrong. Maybe there was an issue with the designs, a file corrupted, a sudden panic before the convention.

Her heart ticked up just a fraction as she reached for the phone.

But when the screen lit up, it was Noah.

For what? This early?

Gianna frowned, letting the phone ring.

And when it stopped, she exhaled, turning onto her back, staring up at the ceiling as morning light filtered faintly through the curtains. Maybe it was a mistake. Maybe he hadn’t meant to—

The phone vibrated again.

Her jaw tightened. She stared at the screen this time, thumb hovering above the glass. She considered ignoring it. Considered the fact that she was still tired, definitely not in the mood for whatever Noah Newman had decided was urgent enough to disrupt her sleep.

The call ended.

Silence stretched for exactly three seconds. Then the phone rang a third time.

"Damn it," she muttered.

She swiped to answer, bringing the phone to her ear without bothering to sit up. "Noah."

Her voice came out rough, sleep-heavy.

There was no teasing response, as she had expected. Instead, Noah’s voice came through sharp, threaded with something unmistakably close to irritation.

"Why didn’t you tell me?"

Gianna blinked, fully awake now.

"Tell you what?" she asked, pushing herself up slightly against the headboard.

"The attack," he snapped. "Your office. What happened to you. The fact that you weren’t well yesterday."

Her grip on the phone tightened.

"You spoke to me yesterday," he continued, the words clipped now. "You spoke to me and said nothing. Instead, you sent me some godforsaken... money. Do you know how that felt?"

Gianna closed her eyes briefly. "Noah..."

"Are we not friends again?" he demanded. "Or did I misunderstand that too? Why am I hearing such big news from the socials first?"

She sighed, rubbing at her temple, exhaustion seeping back into her bones. This was not how she’d wanted her morning to start. She didn’t have the energy for conflict, not today.

"I’m sorry," she said quietly, choosing peace over pride. "I didn’t mean to shut you out."

There was silence on the other end.

When Noah spoke again, his voice was calmer, lower, stripped of its edge. "How are you doing?"

The shift softened something in her chest.

"I’m okay," she replied just as gently. "Really."

"You don’t sound okay."

She smiled faintly, eyes drifting to the window. "I’m getting there."

Another pause.

"I’ll find who did this," Noah said. "I promise."

Her lips curved despite herself. "You don’t have to bother yourself with that."

"And until then...do you need bodyguards?" He ignored her statement and its implications.

She let out a small laugh. "The Thornes have it covered."

"Of course they do," he murmured, a hint of resignation lacing his tone. "Can I come see you?"

Gianna hesitated. Areso’s voice echoed in her mind, reminding her that Old Mr. Thorne had his reservations about the Becketts, and the Newmans by extension.

She pursed her lips, weighing the question carefully.

"I think it’s better if you don’t," she said at last. "Really. I’ll be fine."

Noah didn’t argue. "Alright," he said quietly. "But you call me if you need anything."

"I will."

Gianna set the phone aside when the call ended and lay back against the pillows.

Sleep claimed her faster than she expected.

When she woke again, sunlight had filled the room.

She blinked, stretching slowly, eyes finding the clock once more.

9:12 a.m.

A smile tugged at her lips. She wasn’t going to work today.

She had permission. She had reason. More importantly, she had the convention tomorrow, and rest felt like the smartest rebellion she could offer herself.

A knock sounded at her door.

"Miss Gianna," a maid called softly. "There’s a delivery for you."

Her brows drew together. "A delivery?"

"Yes, ma’am."

Gianna sat up, suspicion stirring. She slipped into comfortable clothes, and padded downstairs.

Outside the gate, a delivery van waited.

Boxes. Many of them. Her eyes widened with every large box she took stock of.

The guards were already inspecting each one carefully, opening lids, checking contents. Roses sat neatly arranged among the packages, their scent drifting faintly on the morning air.

Standing by the gates, Gianna’s stomach flipped. Somehow, she already knew who was behind it.

"From Mr. Noah Newman," the delivery man said politely.

She nodded absentmindedly. Of course.

Boxes upon boxes, she kept seeing. Chocolates. Cakes of different sizes and shapes.

Her thoughts spiraled. Friends. Weren’t they just friends?

This felt...excessive.

Florence appeared beside her, lips twitching, brows arched in unmistakable amusement. "Well," she said lightly, "someone’s making an impression."

Gianna groaned softly. NOAHHHHHH!!!

But she didn’t send them back. The boxes were carried inside, maids trailing behind her as she returned upstairs.

Her phone rang just as she reached her room.

Mason.

These cousins were really out for her.

She answered with a sigh. "Yes?"

"Just checking on you," he said. "Your office is being prepped. I wanted you to know."

"That’s good," she replied. "Thank you."

He lingered, voice hesitant, but she cut the conversation short politely and ended the call.

Then Vance called five minutes later, to get suggestions on final touches. He also told her where he was working from.

"Be careful... make sure to secure everything..." She reminded him, not ready to take chances.

"Of course, I will. See you tomorrow at the convention."

When that call ended, she sent Areso a message next.

Are the models ready for tomorrow’s sampling?

Yes, came the reply. And I’m coming over.

Her phone rang again.

Noah.

She inhaled deeply, taking a seat on the bed. "Noah..."

"Did you get the packages?"

"Yes," she replied, biting on her lower lip. "Why are you doing this?"

A pause. "Just...take care."

Then he ended the call.

Gianna stared at the phone, incredulous.

"Emotionally unexpressive billionaire," she muttered, shaking her head.

She reached into one of the boxes, unwrapped a piece of chocolate, and popped it into her mouth.

"Well," she said aloud, smiling faintly, "at least we’ll enjoy the goodies."