~ 56 ~

~ 56 ~
LUCAS

My desk looked like my mind—cluttered, chaotic, drowning in things I didn’t have the patience to face. Documents sprawled across the polished surface, signatures half-scrawled, contracts I couldn’t remember reading. I’d sat at this same desk a thousand times, but today, I didn’t feel like a CEO. I felt like a brother hanging on by a thread.

The only thing playing on repeat in my head was Esme’s voice, quiet and broken: “Don’t tell him.”

I ran a hand through my hair, dragging it down my face as I exhaled hard. She was scared. And I couldn’t blame her. But the longer she waited, the harder it became to keep this secret from Theo. My best friend. The man who would be shattered once the truth finally landed. And it would land. Secrets like that didn’t stay buried forever.

I’d spent the entire day dodging him—slipping out of meetings early, avoiding the shared executive floor. It was pathetic, really. We’d been through everything together, built this company from the ground up. And now I couldn’t even look him in the eye.

But the morning had started badly and only spiraled from there.

Dad’s call came just after six.

He didn’t bother with greetings. Just launched in.

“Why hasn’t anyone shown up claiming to be Eliana’s father?”

I’d barely wiped the sleep from my eyes, still tasting the bitterness of last night’s arguments, still hearing the soft, confused worry in Lila’s voice. And then there was Dad—full of rage, demanding answers like I owed him a clean narrative.

“She’s not ready to talk yet,” I told him calmly. “She said she needs time.”

“You’ve always made excuses for that girl. And now look. A child born out of wedlock. No word from a father. Is this what the Crawford legacy has become?”

My teeth clenched. “Ana is not a shame. She’s a gift. And if you can’t see that, that’s on you.”

His silence told me he wasn’t expecting that. And then his voice turned sharp.

“You know who the father is, don’t you?”

I didn’t answer. I ended the call.

It wasn’t the coward’s way out—it was survival. Because if I’d said another word, I might have said too much. And that wasn’t my truth to give away.

I thought of Esme, her fragile expression the day she confessed it all. Of the way she clutched Ana to her chest like she was the only thing that made sense anymore. I’d sworn to protect them both, even if it meant standing on this line, caught between blood and loyalty.

The day dragged me by the collar, yanking me through back-to-back meetings, a lunch I forgot to eat, and deals that I couldn’t remember agreeing to. I was halfway through pretending to read a merger clause when my secretary’s voice crackled through the intercom.

“Mr. Crawford, you have a visitor.”

“Who is it?”

“Mr Aarlingford.”

I paused.

Of all the people I didn’t want to see today, he ranked high.

“Send him in.”

I stood, almost out of instinct, brushing down my sleeves as the door opened.

And there he was.

Elijah Aarlingford.

All charm and power, dressed in a tailored navy suit, the kind of man who walked into rooms and expected the air to change. But the thing about people like him? I’d met too many to be impressed.

He smiled like this was social hour.

“Lucas. Hope I’m not interrupting.”

“You are,” I said smoothly, gesturing for him to sit. “But you’re already here.”

He didn’t sit.

\----

Elijah's visit had taken a turn I hadn’t expected.

When my secretary announced him, I’d assumed the worst—that he was here to throw punches, verbal or otherwise. But instead, he’d come with a proposal. Business. A merger, or more accurately, a strategic partnership between Aarlingford Industries and KAI Group. The pitch was clean, the vision clear, and after an hour of circling each other with cautious words and buried tension, we’d found a middle ground.

The contracts were signed. The ink barely dried.

And now we were here, in a dimly lit restaurant downtown, a bottle of red uncorked between us, no longer two CEOs sitting on opposite ends of a power table, but two men unwinding after a long, strange day.

It was easier like this. No cameras. No shareholders. Just conversation, history, and alcohol slowly taking the edge off.

We talked about everything—work, legacy, the weight of expectations. He told me about his father’s most recent antics; I told him about mine. We laughed more than I thought we would.

Then, without warning, the tone shifted.

He poured himself another glass, leaned back, and looked at me like he’d been waiting for the right moment all evening.

“Do you have a personal relationship with your employee?” he asked.

I blinked, caught off guard. “Excuse me?”

“Lila,” he said plainly, swirling the wine in his glass. “She’s more than just an employee to you, isn’t she?”

My spine straightened before I could stop it. I reached for my own glass, buying time with a sip.

“She’s important to me,” I said eventually. “But that doesn’t mean I’ll stand in the way of her life.”

He studied me for a beat. “That’s why you haven’t asked me about her.”

I paused, lips parting, then pressing shut again.

“She’s a grown woman,” I said finally, “old enough to make her own decisions. I have no right to interfere.”

Elijah gave a slow nod, his eyes narrowing with quiet understanding. “That explains the look in your eye.”

I froze.

“What look?”

“That one,” he said, tipping his chin slightly. “The one you just gave me. The one you give when someone mentions her name.”

There was no point pretending. No deflecting. Not here. Not now.

“We were… a thing,” I said. “Briefly. Not long ago.”

His brows lifted slightly, but he didn’t interrupt.

“I ended it,” I added. “Not to hurt her. I didn’t want to. But I didn’t have a choice. Things were complicated.”

He sat in the silence for a few moments. Then he asked, “If you had the chance now… would you undo it?”

My heart kicked once. Hard.

I looked away, fingers tightening around the base of my glass. The question echoed too loudly in my head, pulling images I’d tried to bury—Lila’s face when I left her apartment that morning, her voice whispering my name in the dark, the way she smiled when she wasn’t trying to hide her hurt.

I didn’t answer.

Elijah didn’t push. He nodded slowly, a flicker of emotion I couldn’t place flashing through his gaze.

“It’s okay,” he said quietly. “I get it.”

After that, the conversation drifted—thankfully. We moved to safer ground: real estate, expansion plans, a new tech company he was scouting. But the air between us never fully relaxed again.

By the time we parted ways, the sky had turned dark and the streets glowed with city lights. I got into my car, engine humming, but I didn’t drive off immediately.

My fingers hovered over the steering wheel, Elijah’s question still stuck in my mind like a splinter.

If you had the chance now… would you undo it?

I didn’t have the answer then.

I wasn’t sure I had it now.

But I knew one thing—I hadn’t stopped thinking about her. Not once. Not even when I tried. And maybe that was its own kind of answer.