Chapter 79
Aria’s POV
My heart raced as my fingers involuntarily reached up to touch his chest. The skin was warm, his heartbeat surprisingly fast beneath my palm. "You always do this—turn everything into a transaction." I meant it to sound accusatory, but it came out breathless.
Something complex flashed through Devon's eyes—hurt, need, confusion—before hardening into resolve. "Name your terms. Any terms." His voice had roughened, and I realized with a jolt that the great Devon Kane was negotiating from a position of weakness.
"I heard you're getting engaged to Caroline Hayes next month," I said softly, the words escaping before I could reconsider.
The effect was immediate. Devon's body stiffened, the heat in his eyes cooling rapidly. His jaw clenched, a muscle ticking visibly. A cold smile crossed his face, but not before I caught a flash of genuine pain in his expression.
"Is that what this is about? You want to take Caroline's place? Become the next Mrs. Kane?" His words were sharp, defensive, his body suddenly distant though he hadn't physically moved away.
I pushed him away, anger flaring in my eyes. "I don't have a habit of becoming the second Scarlett."
Rising from the sofa, I straightened my clothes, trying to regain composure despite my racing pulse and flushed skin. "It seems I'm not destined to enter the Kane family gates. Please leave." My voice trembled slightly, betraying the turbulence beneath my calm facade.
Devon remained silent for a moment before standing and methodically rebuttoning his shirt, movements precise as a machine. Each button secured was another wall rebuilt between us. He walked directly to the door without sparing me another glance and left, leaving behind a chill that had nothing to do with the room temperature.
I stood frozen, wondering what had just happened. One moment he'd been all passion and intensity, the next cold as ice. The whiplash of his mood shift left me dizzy. My lips still tingled from his kiss, my body still humming with unfulfilled desire, while my mind struggled to process his abrupt departure.
---
Devon's POV
I stood outside Aria's door, hands clenched at my sides. Caroline Hayes. Of course she would bring up Caroline. My carefully constructed walls had cracked for a moment, and she'd seen right through them.
Sleep would evade me again tonight. It always did when she wasn't beside me—a weakness I despised acknowledging. The elevator ride down felt interminable, each floor a reminder of the distance growing between us.
Lawson's voice in my earpiece pulled me from my thoughts. "Sir, Ethan Blake is approaching the building, severely intoxicated. He's live streaming."
I stepped out of the elevator, instantly alert. "Show me."
On the security feed, Blake stumbled out of a taxi, so drunk he could barely stand. His Instagram Live showed nearly ten thousand followers watching this pathetic display.
"Aria!" he shouted, lurching toward the entrance. "I know you're in there!"
I didn't analyze why I cared. I simply acted. "Intercept him. Quietly."
I stepped outside, making eye contact with Jenkins, my driver. A slight nod was all it took. We'd worked together long enough that words were unnecessary.
My security team materialized with their usual efficiency, intercepting Blake before he could make more of a fool of himself. I watched as they guided him—firmly but discreetly—into a waiting car. Blake's protests were slurred and ineffectual.
I felt a grim satisfaction watching him being driven away. The satisfaction quickly soured as I remembered Aria's finger hovering over his voice message. Had she wanted to hear his excuses? Did some part of her still care?
The thought burned more than it should have.
I pulled out my phone. The events of the evening had brought things into sharper focus. Caroline, Noah, Aria—the connections and complications were becoming intolerable.
I dialed a number. "Noah, Sixty Soho VIP lounge. Thirty minutes. I need to talk."
---
At Sixty Soho's exclusive rooftop lounge, the Manhattan skyline glittered through floor-to-ceiling windows. Noah lounged on a leather sofa, but his relaxed posture couldn't hide the tension in his shoulders, the shadows beneath his eyes.
"So, you're not going to see Caroline?" he asked, swirling amber liquid in his glass. "She's in the hospital, you know." His voice held a rawness I rarely heard from him—pain barely concealed beneath forced casualness.
I stared at my untouched whiskey. "Why don't you go?" I asked quietly, though I already knew the answer.
Noah's knuckles whitened around his glass. "I've made things clear with her. We can't happen." The bitterness in his voice was unmistakable. "We had another fight last night. That's why she's there—anxiety attack, they said."
I studied my oldest friend's face. Noah Pierce, heir to one of the largest hotel chains in the world, looked utterly defeated. "Because my mother selected her as the ideal Kane bride?" I asked, unable to keep the edge from my voice.
Noah took a large swallow of whiskey. "Your mother has a vision for the Kane legacy. Caroline is part of it."
"A vision I've never shared," I said flatly.
Noah's eyes flashed. "You should consider her. You two make sense—a perfect business alliance." He said the words as if they tasted foul. "The Hayes shipping fortune aligned with Kane Technology. Your mother's dream." He set his glass down with deliberate care. "And Caroline is willing to fulfill her duty."
"Even though she loves you."
Noah flinched. "Don't."
"This isn't the nineteenth century, Noah. You love her. She loves you. My mother's plans aren't worth both of you being miserable."
"It's not that simple," he said, his voice hollow. "Her family has expectations. Your mother has expectations. Sometimes what we want doesn't matter."
I set down my untouched whiskey. "I'm not interested in picking up what others have discarded," I said firmly. "Especially not what my friends have discarded against their will."
Noah looked up, surprise evident. "Eleanor will be furious. The arrangements—"
"Let me handle my mother," I cut him off. "Go to the hospital. Tell Caroline the truth."
Noah's expression wavered between hope and doubt. "Devon—"
"I'm not marrying Caroline," I said with finality. "That was never going to happen, regardless of what my mother planned."
As I walked toward the door, Noah called after me. "Aria Harper will cost you more than you know."
My steps faltered momentarily. How had he known my thoughts had turned to her? Was I becoming that transparent? The possibility disturbed me more than his warning.
I didn't turn back.