Chapter 18
Aria’s POV
I woke to the golden glow of sunset streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows and an empty space beside me. Disorientation clouded my thoughts as I realized I'd slept through the entire day. The bedside clock confirmed it was already early evening of the following day, the events of the previous night rushing back as my body ached pleasantly, bearing physical reminders of Devon's thoroughness.
Sitting up slowly, I noticed a folder on the nightstand next to me. Inside was the contract we had discussed, now signed with Devon's bold signature. Next to it lay my phone, which I distinctly remembered leaving in my purse across the room.
I checked my notifications and found an email from my bank alerting me to a large deposit. When I logged into my account, I saw not only had the promised investment been transferred to Stellar Impressions' business account, but a separate, substantial sum had been deposited into my personal account as well.
Without hesitation, I transferred enough to cover Sophia's mother's medical expenses. Moments later, my phone rang.
"Aria?" Sophia's voice was thick with emotion. "I just got a notification... Did you just transfer a hundred thousand dollars to my account?"
"Your mom needs that surgery," I said simply. "How is she?"
"She's stabilized," Sophia said, sniffling. "The doctors performed the procedure this morning..." Her voice broke. "Thank you, Aria. I don't know how you did this, but thank you. I was so worried, and then your transfer came through, and I just—I don't know how to repay you."
"Don't be ridiculous," I said, warmth spreading through my chest despite everything. "From freshman year to now, our friendship means everything to me. Use the money, Sophia. After all, I'm the one who convinced you to leave your stable job to start Stellar with me."
After reassuring Sophia again and ending the call, I took a long, hot shower, trying to wash away the lingering sensations of Devon's touch. It didn't work. Every brush of the washcloth against my skin reminded me of his hands, his mouth.
I dressed carefully in yesterday's clothes, smoothing them as best I could, and prepared to make my exit. Part of me was relieved Devon had already left—it spared me the awkwardness of a morning-after conversation.
The hallway was mercifully empty as I stepped out of the suite, quietly closing the door behind me. I had nearly reached the elevator when a familiar voice called my name.
"Aria? What are you doing up here?"
I turned to see Ryan Winters approaching, his sandy blond hair perfectly styled despite the early hour. His curious expression made my stomach drop.
"Ryan! I, um—" My mind scrambled for an explanation.
"The executive suites are on this floor," Ryan said, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Were you meeting a client?"
"Something like that," I managed, forcing a casual smile. "What brings you here?"
Ryan's face lit up. "I'm here for Devon Kane's evening poker game. Christopher Quinn invited me. Actually, Devon's up in the private lounge right now if you wanted to talk to him."
Before I could formulate an excuse, Ryan had looped his arm through mine and was steering me toward the elevators. "Come on, I'll take you up. The views from the top floor are incredible."
Trapped and unable to refuse without appearing suspicious, I let Ryan guide me into the elevator. As we ascended to the top floor, I tried to calm my racing heart. What would Devon think when he saw me? Would he maintain our agreed-upon confidentiality or somehow reveal what had happened between us?
The private lounge was elegantly appointed, with leather chairs arranged around several card tables. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered panoramic views of the city, just as Ryan had promised.
Devon sat at the center table, cards in hand, looking completely refreshed in a crisp white shirt and charcoal gray trousers. There wasn't a hint of the passion or intensity I'd witnessed just hours before. If anything, he appeared bored as he studied his cards.
"Look who I found wandering the executive floor," Ryan announced cheerfully as we approached.
Devon glanced up, his expression completely neutral as his eyes met mine. If he was surprised to see me, he didn't show it. In fact, he looked at me as if I were a complete stranger, nodding politely before returning his attention to his cards.
"Ms. Harper," he said coolly, his tone formal and distant. "What brings you here?"
The dismissive greeting stung more than it should have. I opened my mouth to respond, but Christopher Quinn interrupted.
"You play Texas Hold'em, Aria?" he asked, flashing a charming smile. "We could use some fresh blood. These guys are getting predictable."
Devon's eyes flicked up again, something dangerous flashing in their depths. "Quinn," he said quietly, "it's your bet."
"Right, right," Christopher said, tossing chips into the center pot before turning back to me. "Seriously though, join us for the next hand. I'd love to see how you play."
Ryan nudged me encouragingly. "You should learn from the master. Devon here has cleaned me out more times than I can count."
To my surprise, Devon reached over and pulled out the chair next to him, a silent invitation that caused the other players to exchange glances. I hesitated for a moment before taking the offered seat, acutely aware of the curious stares from the other players.
"Devon never lets anyone sit that close," one woman whispered to her companion, just loudly enough for me to hear.
Devon seemed oblivious to the comment as he finished the hand, winning a substantial pot with a straight flush. As the dealer shuffled for the next round, Devon turned to me.
"You can play this hand for me," he said, sliding his chips toward me. "If you win, it's yours. If you lose, I'll cover it."
I'd played poker before—my college roommate's boyfriend had taught me the basics, and we'd had regular game nights. But I wasn't about to admit that to Devon. Not after how dismissively he'd greeted me.
"I'll try," I said sweetly, accepting the cards I was dealt.
For the next half hour, I deliberately played terribly, making rookie mistakes and taking unnecessary risks. With each hand, I watched Devon's pile of chips dwindle as I lost hand after hand. By the time I'd lost two hundred thousand dollars of his money, Devon's jaw had tightened perceptibly.
He leaned in close, his lips brushing my ear. "You're playing exceptionally poorly," he murmured, his breath warm against my skin. "It reflects badly on me."
I suppressed a shiver and turned to meet his gaze. "I told you I wasn't very good."
His fingers grazed the back of my hand as he reached for his remaining chips, the casual touch sending electricity through my veins. "Perhaps I should take over before you bankrupt me entirely."
The way his thumb stroked across my knuckles made it clear the touch was deliberate. I pulled my hand away, unsettled by how easily he could affect me.
The game continued for another hour, with Devon quickly recouping most of his losses. I watched him play, noting the calculating intelligence behind each move. He wasn't just playing the cards; he was playing the people, reading their tells and manipulating their responses.
Just as Devon won a particularly large pot, his phone buzzed. He checked the screen, his expression shifting minutely before he stood.
"Gentlemen, ladies, I'm afraid I have an emergency board meeting to attend," he announced, gathering his chips. "Quinn, settle up for me."
As he prepared to leave, Ryan leaned toward me with a conspiratorial smile. "Is it my imagination, or does Devon seem interested in you? I've never seen him let anyone get that close to him during a game."
I felt heat rising to my cheeks. "We just signed a contract for Stellar to handle Kane Technology's new product line marketing," I explained, the partial truth coming easily. "He's probably just being polite."
Ryan's eyebrow lifted skeptically. "Devon Kane doesn't do polite without a reason."