Chapter 189
Aria's POV
I looked up, meeting his eyes. In the dim light filtering through the windows, I could see vulnerability in his expression—something rare and precious. I didn't answer his question, couldn't find words as we stared at each other. The silence between us felt charged with unspoken emotion.
Devon shifted, rolling me onto my back, his body half-covering mine. The weight of him pressed me into the mattress, solid and reassuring. His fingers traced the outline of my jaw, then moved lower, skimming my collarbone. My skin prickled with awareness at each point of contact.
"You're quiet," he observed, his voice barely above a whisper. His thumb brushed across my lower lip, causing me to draw a sharp breath.
"I'm thinking," I replied, my voice sounding strange even to my own ears.
"About what?" His face hovered inches above mine, his breath warm against my cheek.
"This. Us." I placed my palm against his chest, feeling his heart beat strong and steady beneath my fingers. "What are we doing, Devon?"
Instead of answering, he lowered his head, his lips finding the sensitive spot just below my ear. "Does it matter right now?" he murmured against my skin, his words vibrating through me.
I gasped as his teeth grazed my earlobe, then his mouth moved lower, pressing open-mouthed kisses along the column of my throat. My hands slid up his back, feeling the hard muscles shift beneath smooth skin. I traced the ridges of old scars there, marks he never explained.
Devon's hand slipped beneath the thin fabric of my camisole, his palm hot against my stomach. My body arched involuntarily toward his touch, seeking more. He made a sound low in his throat—half groan, half sigh—that sent heat pooling low in my belly.
"Devon," I breathed, my fingers threading through his hair, pulling him closer.
He captured my mouth with his, the kiss deeper than before. There was hunger in it, but also something else—a kind of desperation, as if he was trying to express something words couldn't convey. I responded with equal fervor, my tongue meeting his, my body pressing up against his solid frame.
His hand moved higher, skimming the underside of my breast. I shivered at the touch, my nails digging slightly into his shoulders. Devon broke the kiss, his forehead resting against mine, our breathing ragged and synchronized.
"Tell me what you want," he demanded softly, his eyes searching mine. "Tell me, Aria."
The use of my name, rare from his lips, made my heart stutter. I opened my mouth to respond, though I wasn't sure what I would say—what I could say that wouldn't reveal too much of myself.
My phone suddenly lit up on the nightstand, the bright glow cutting through our moment. I reluctantly pulled away from Devon, feeling his reluctance in the way his fingers lingered on my skin as I reached for my phone.
"Ignore it," he whispered against my neck, his breath warm and enticing.
But I'd already seen the screen—fifteen unread messages from Sophia, starting from 12 AM. My heart jumped to my throat as I scanned them quickly. The last one, sent just minutes ago, made my stomach clench with dread: "Quick, come to Manhattan General. My mom... something happened. I need you."
"I have to go," I said, sitting up abruptly, panic rising in my chest. "It's Sophia. Her mother's in the hospital." My voice cracked slightly. "This is serious, Devon. She never texts this late unless it's an emergency."
Devon's expression shifted from desire to concern as he watched me scramble to collect my clothes. My fingers trembled as I tried to smooth out the wrinkles in my evening gown from last night. I struggled with the zipper, my coordination hampered by growing anxiety for my friend.
"I need to borrow your car," I said, my voice tight with worry as I pushed my tangled hair from my face. "Sophia's in trouble. Her mom might be..." I couldn't finish the sentence, the fear of what might have happened closing my throat.
Devon got up, his movements deliberate as he pulled on a pair of jeans and a casual Henley. His eyes never left me as he said, "You're in no condition to drive." His tone was firm but not unkind. "I'll take you."
"I can call an Uber—" I started, not wanting to impose further.
"You're shaking," he cut me off, stepping closer and taking my hands in his. His thumbs brushed over my knuckles in a steadying gesture. "And exhausted. I won't let you go alone like this." His eyes held mine, and I saw genuine concern there.
I nodded silently, grateful for his understanding. Following him downstairs to the garage, I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to contain my growing fear for Sophia and her mother. Devon's hand rested briefly on the small of my back as we walked, a small gesture of support that steadied me.
His Bentley purred to life, the leather seats cool against my skin as I slid in beside him. Devon glanced over, noticing my distress, and adjusted the temperature. The city streets were nearly empty at this hour, allowing us to move quickly through Manhattan.
"Last night," Devon said suddenly, breaking the silence. "You were with Calvin Reed. Discussing a contract?" His eyes remained on the road, but I could hear a note of something in his voice—concern? Jealousy?
I glanced at him, surprised by the abrupt shift. "Yes," I admitted, tucking my hair behind my ear nervously. "Harper Group needs his business."
His fingers tapped rhythmically against the steering wheel, betraying an inner tension. "If you needed help with Reed, you could have come to me."
"I wanted to handle it myself," I replied, turning to stare out the window to hide the emotions crossing my face.
Devon's jaw tightened slightly. "Such pride," he murmured, his eyes briefly meeting mine in the rearview mirror. "We'll see if you can crack Reed. He's not an easy man to convince."
"I don't need your approval on my business decisions, Devon." The words came out sharper than I intended, my anxiety about Sophia making me defensive.
"No?" His voice lowered, becoming more intimate. "Then why did you come running to me for funding for your friend's mother's surgery?" His eyes flickered with something close to hurt before hardening again.
I clenched my jaw, refusing to engage further. My thoughts were already at the hospital with Sophia, imagining worst-case scenarios. The tension in the car thickened as we pulled up to the hospital entrance.
"Thank you for the ride," I said, my hand on the door handle. I hesitated, turning back to look at him. Something in his expression made me want to stay, to explain, but Sophia needed me.
Devon didn't respond, simply put the car in drive the moment my feet hit the pavement. I watched the Bentley disappear around the corner, feeling strangely bereft despite my urgency. Shaking the feeling away, I rushed through the automatic doors into the sterile brightness of the hospital lobby, my fear for Sophia pushing everything else aside.
"I'm looking for Carmen Kim," I told the nurse at the reception desk, my voice tight with anxiety. "She should have been admitted earlier tonight."
The nurse typed something into her computer, her face impassive. "Room 412 was assigned to Mrs. Kim, but..." she frowned, "the room is currently empty."
My heart dropped, and I felt lightheaded with fear. "What do you mean, empty? Where is she?" My voice rose slightly, drawing glances from nearby staff.
"I'm sorry, I don't have that information," she replied with practiced detachment that made me want to scream.
I grabbed my phone, dialing Sophia's number with trembling fingers. She picked up on the second ring.
"I'm at the hospital," I said quickly, pacing in small circles. "Where are you?"
"Fifth floor," Sophia's voice was barely audible, choked with tears. "Surgery... they took her to surgery. Hurry, Aria... please..." The brokenness in her voice tore at my heart.