Chapter 36 36

Chapter 36 36
IRIS QUINN

I couldn’t go back to that estate. I told the driver to take me to The Apex, a rooftop lounge in the financial district that my father used to take me to when I was younger. Back when I thought the world made sense and men kept their promises.

The place was expensive, dimly lit, with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. I walked straight to the bar and ordered a whiskey.

The bartender raised an eyebrow but poured it anyway, probably wondering why I was drinking midday but I really couldn’t care less about anyone’s opinion of me right now. I drank it in two swallows and ordered another. I needed to drown in alcohol and forget the problems attached to the surname I now answered.

The second drink went down easier than the first. By the time I’d finished the third, the edges of the room had softened and the anger in my chest had dulled and become manageable.

“Rough day?”

I turned my head.

Aaron was standing beside me, hands in his pockets with his tie loosened.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, pushing my hair out of my face.

“Same thing you are, probably.” He gestured to the bartender. “Whatever she’s having, and one for me.”

The bartender nodded and poured two more glasses.

Aaron sat down on the stool beside me. “You left the building pretty quickly after the meeting. Didn’t even say goodbye. You looked like you were about to break down, so I thought I’d keep you company.”

I laughed bitterly. “Thanks, but what was I supposed to say? Thanks for the show?”

He smiled slightly. “It wasn’t personal.”

“It felt personal.”

“I know.” He picked up his glass and took a sip. “For what it’s worth, I think Aurora was brilliant. Your father was ahead of his time.”

I looked at him, surprised. “You do?”

“Absolutely. But brilliant doesn’t always mean profitable. Not in the short term, anyway.” He paused. “Victor doesn’t think long-term. Just quarters and fiscal years.”

“And you?”

“I think survival.” He turned slightly to face me. “Look, I know today was hard. And I know you probably hate me right now. But if you need to rant, I’m here. We’ll drink, you’ll yell, and by tomorrow morning, I’ll have forgotten everything.”

I laughed again, softer this time. “You’re a terrible liar.”

“Maybe.” He raised his glass. “But I’m a good drinking partner.”

I clinked my glass against his and downed the rest of my drink.

“So,” Aaron said after a moment. “Is being married to Caesar really worth it?”

I stared at my empty glass. “It’s the only thing I could do to preserve my father’s name.”

“And how’s that working out?”

Terribly.

Aaron signaled the bartender for another round. “You know, I’ve known Caesar a long time. And I can tell you with absolute certainty—he doesn’t deserve you. I don’t know how you tolerate him.”

“You barely know me.”

“I know enough.” He leaned back slightly. “You’re smart. You’re capable. You actually care about people. Caesar?” He shook his head. “Caesar only cares about not disappointing his father. Which, ironically, is the one thing he’s consistently good at.”

I snorted. “That’s harsh.”

“It’s true.” He took another sip. “He’s a just his father’s extension, Iris. He always has been. He’ll never stand up to Victor. Not for you. Not for anyone.”

I thought about Caesar raising his hand in that boardroom. About the way he’d looked at me afterward, completely unbothered.

“You’re right,” I said quietly.

Aaron tilted his head. “About?”

“He’s a coward.” I downed another drink, the alcohol burning pleasantly now instead of sharply. “And his father is a monster. They both are.”

“They really are,” Aaron agreed. “Victor Laurent is the kind of man who’d sell his own mother if the price was right. And Caesar would help him carry her to the buyer.”

I laughed loudly, resting my head on my chin. “You’re insulting your boss,” I said, wiping my eyes.

Aaron shrugged. “Only technically. Besides, some things are worth the risk.”

There was something in the way he said it casually that made me look at him a little longer than I should have. But the alcohol was making everything softer and easier.

“You know what the worst part is?” I said, my words starting to slur slightly. “My father didn’t even trust Victor. He knew. He had a file.” I sniffled, narrowing my eyes. “That beast.”

Aaron went very still, his eyes sharpening or maybe it was the alcohol. “What do you mean?”

I waved my hand vaguely. “The contract he signed years ago. He kept copies of them as if he knew Victor would try something eventually.”

“What kind of evidence?”

I blinked slowly. “Things that could ruin him.”

Aaron’s fingers tightened around his glass. “What kind of things?”

“The real contract Victor probably doesn’t show people. The one that proves—” I stopped, squinting at my glass. “Wait. Why am I telling you this?”

Aaron smiled gently. “Because you’ve had a terrible day and you need someone to talk to. That’s all.”

I nodded slowly. That made sense.

He leaned in slightly. “Where are these files? If you have something, you need to hide it properly. Not in a place your husband can reach.”

“Safe.” I tapped my temple. “In my head. And also...” I trailed off, suddenly aware that maybe I shouldn’t be saying any of this.

Aaron waited, watching me intently.

“Never mind,” I muttered.

He just signaled the bartender again, deciding not to push Thank goodness. By the time I’d finished the next drink, the room was spinning slightly and my phone was buzzing in my bag.

I pulled it out.

Caesar Laurent.

I stared at it for a moment, then declined the call and shoved the phone back into my bag.

“Need a ride home?” Aaron asked.

I looked at him. “I can call a car.”

“You could.” He stood and pulled out his keys. “Or I could drive you. Make sure you get there safely.”

I hesitated. Every instinct I had left was telling me this was a bad idea because Caesar would get the wrong idea. But I was tired. And drunk. And honestly, fuck Caesar. He did not care about my feelings back there so why should I consider his now?

“Fine,” I said, standing up with a stagger. “You can take me home.”

Aaron smiled. “Come on.”

He offered me his arm, and I took it, letting him guide me toward the exit as my phone buzzed again in my bag.

“Wait.” I stopped walking and reached into my bag to check my phone. It was a text message this time.

Caesar: Where are you?

Aaron craned his neck to look at my phone as he asked, “Is that him?”

I nodded, opening my camera instead of responding. I pulled Aaron close, taking him by surprise as we both looked into my camera.

“Smile,” I said, pressing my cheek against his shoulder, smiling like a fool.

And smile he did.

I clicked send and turned to Aaron. “Shall we?”