Chapter 197
Aria's POV
Devon's fingers threaded through my wet hair, pulling me closer as our lips met. I'd initiated the kiss, a silent apology for my earlier accusations, but now he'd taken control. His mouth moved against mine with a hunger that startled me. I felt his breathing change, becoming deeper as he pulled back slightly to study my face.
"You've never... kissed like this before?" he asked, his voice lower than usual, a slight furrow appearing between his brows.
Heat flooded my cheeks as I nodded. With Ethan, kisses had been rehearsed performances, calculated moves in a game of pretend love. This raw honesty between Devon and me felt disarming.
Devon's eyes darkened, pupils dilating as his gaze traveled over my face. His next touch was gentler, his fingertips grazing my cheek with unexpected tenderness. When I tried to cover myself, suddenly self-conscious about my nakedness, he caught my wrists.
"Don't," he said quietly, his voice steady but soft. "Let me look at you."
I noticed how his jaw tensed and relaxed, how his breathing became slightly irregular as his gaze held mine. The intensity made me tremble as he led me from the bathroom to the bedroom. Each point where his skin touched mine felt heightened, alert. For the first time, I wasn't calculating my responses or planning my next move. I was simply feeling, reacting, giving myself permission to be present.
Afterward, I collapsed against Devon's chest, listening to his heartbeat gradually slow. His fingers combed idly through my hair, and I noticed how the tension in his shoulders had eased. His expression remained guarded, but there was a new softness around his eyes that I hadn't seen before.
Soon, his breathing deepened into the rhythm of sleep. I watched the subtle change in his face—how the perpetual vigilance slipped away, how the hard lines around his mouth relaxed. In sleep, the armor he wore so constantly fell away.
I lifted my head slightly to study him. "I shouldn't have doubted you because of someone else's words," I whispered, tracing his jawline with my fingertip. I thought about what Marcus had said—how Devon's insomnia had plagued him for years, how medication after medication had failed. Something shifted inside me as I watched him sleep peacefully against me.
Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows of the penthouse, Manhattan's lights glowed against the night sky. I nestled closer, noticing how his arm tightened around me even in sleep, as if unwilling to let go.
---
Morning sunlight filtered through the curtains when I stirred. I tried to slip out of bed, but Devon's arm tightened around my waist, pulling me back against his chest with surprising strength.
"Don't move," he ordered, eyes still closed, voice rough with sleep. "Sleep more."
I turned slightly in his embrace, studying the shadows under his eyes that seemed less pronounced this morning. "Are you still angry with me?"
Devon's eyes opened, steel gray and instantly alert. The warmth from last night receded like a tide pulling back from shore. "You still need to explain what's going on between you and Reed."
The coldness in his voice stung. After last night's vulnerability, the sudden distance felt jarring. I opened my mouth to explain, but the doorbell interrupted us, shattering the tense moment.
Devon pulled on a robe and went to answer it. I watched him move, noting how his shoulders had already tensed back into their usual rigid posture.
Marcus stood in the doorway, holding a folder and tablet. "Good morning, Mr. Kane. I have a copy of Ms. Harper's contract with Reed Group, and the detailed report on last night's incident."
I wrapped myself in Devon's discarded shirt, inhaling his scent as I stepped into the living room. Marcus acknowledged me with a polite nod, his expression professional and unrevealing. I took the contract, murmuring my thanks, then glanced curiously at the other documents in his hand.
"Is that about the assassination attempt?" I asked, my voice steadier than I felt.
Marcus gave Devon a warning look. "Ms. Harper shouldn't be involved in these matters, sir. It's dangerous."
Devon examined the contract, his eyes scanning the pages rapidly. I noticed the slight relaxation around his mouth, the way his fingers loosened their tight grip on the paper. "So you did close the deal," he said, his gaze meeting mine with something that looked like respect. "Impressive."
The single word of praise warmed me more than it should have.
---
Hours later, I returned to Harper Group. My assistant Anna hurried over, her expression anxious.
"The chairman has been looking for you all morning," she whispered. "He seems furious."
I sighed, preparing myself mentally for the confrontation. Before I could reach my father's office, William Harper was already striding across the lobby, his face flushed with anger.
"Staying out all night? Is this your idea of 'focusing on work'?" he demanded, loud enough for nearby employees to hear.
I felt their eyes on us, the familiar shame of public criticism rising. But something had changed within me. Where I once would have shrunk from his anger, I now stood straighter.
"If you want to discuss my personal schedule, we can do that in your office," I said, keeping my voice level.
My father's lip curled, his eyes cold and dismissive. "You think you can accomplish anything significant? Your professional capabilities aren't even—"
"Office," I cut him off firmly, surprising myself with my steadiness. "Now."
In my father's office, a man in an expensive suit stood as we entered. He extended his hand toward me, his smile practiced and confident.
"Ms. Harper, I'm the new Vice President your father has hired."
William smiled smugly, satisfaction evident in the way he leaned back slightly. "Since you're unable to manage company operations properly, he'll be taking over some of your responsibilities."
I raised an eyebrow, feeling unexpectedly calm. "Is that so? What about this?" I handed him the signed contract with Reed Group.
My father flipped through the pages, his expression shifting from contempt to disbelief. I watched the transformation with quiet satisfaction—his eyes widening slightly, his fingers tightening on the paper.
"How did you...?" he stammered. "Reed refused everyone else!"
I allowed myself a small smile, not of triumph but of quiet certainty. "Perhaps I'm more capable than you thought."