Chapter 5

BLAKE

I sat in my office, staring at my computer screen without seeing a word. Outside, the rain pounded harder by the minute, turning New York's sky a dismal gray. The Hudson Riverside project spreadsheets flickered before me, but my mind was elsewhere.

Emma's back.

The fact made my pulse quicken. Three years. She'd finally returned from Europe. We'd been apart too long, and now she was back in New York.

Emma Grant is different from everyone else. Genuine. Pure. Special. I've known her since we were children, and she's the only woman I've ever truly respected.

My phone buzzed with a message from security: Aria Taylor had left the Morgan Tower.

Where has she gone?

I hate feeling out of control. Aria always makes me feel that way, ever since that damn party three years ago. She's predictably unpredictable, always looking for angles to work.

I immediately opened the tracker—she was at Redwood Medical Center. What was this woman up to now? Probably trying to gain sympathy, playing the devoted daughter role. I dialed her number. When she answered, background noise nearly drowned her out, the downpour clearly audible.

"Where are you?" I asked directly.

"Blake? The signal's bad, I can't hear—"

"Don't play dumb. Tell me where you are. I'll send a driver."

"No need, I'll be—"

The call cut off abruptly. I clenched my fist, containing my anger.

I grabbed my car keys. Jack stood at the doorway, looking surprised.

"Tell the driver I'm driving myself," I said without looking back.

Outside Redwood Medical Center, the rain came down in sheets. I spotted Aria under the awning, her hair plastered to her face from the rain. She looked anxious, constantly scanning the street for a taxi.

Why can't she ever just follow instructions? Always plotting something.

Thirty minutes earlier, Matthew sent me a video. Aria was with Dr. Jonathan Mayer in the hospital hallway, standing close, her hand on his arm as she smiled up at him. "Thank you, Jonathan." He was clearly interested in more than just being her doctor. Matthew said Jonathan had made up some excuse to get her alone.

Typical. Less than three years married and already looking for her next meal ticket.

Matthew Redwood runs Redwood Medical Center and has been my friend for years. After the accident ten years ago, Aria's father Aaron ended up in a coma under Matthew's care. Aria tried to move him to another hospital, but the Redwood family has too much power.

I pulled up to the medical center entrance and rolled down the window. Water splashed, soiling her high heels.

"Get in. Now," I ordered.

Aria froze, clearly surprised to see me. After a moment's hesitation, she hurried to the car and got in.

The car filled with the scent of rain and her faint perfume, a combination that irritated me. I grabbed the back of her neck, forcing her to look at me.

"Can't stay home? Need to parade yourself around town?" I asked coldly.

Her eyes darted away, avoiding my gaze. "I was just visiting my father."

"Visiting your father?" I let out a cold laugh. "Matthew always says you're trouble. Seems he's right. Always working an angle, aren't you?"

"I'm not..." she trembled. "I just worried you'd be angry, so I hung up quickly."

"Angry?" I tightened my grip, feeling her skin quiver under my palm. "Aria, don't forget this is just a contract marriage. Don't get too close to other men unless you want to break our agreement and lose everything you signed for."

Her eyes flashed with hurt, but I didn't care. Business is business. She knew what she was getting into when she took my money.

"You wouldn't want your father to die in that hospital bed because you can't follow simple rules, would you?" I released her, speaking calmly.

The color drained from her face. "You'd stop paying for his treatment?"

"Depends on your behavior. I don't reward disloyalty."

I started the car and drove into New York's slick streets. Matthew and I have known each other since Princeton, then Harvard after that. We're from the same circle, one Aria will never belong in despite her Ivy League degree. Money can buy education, but not class.

"From today on, you're forbidden from visiting your father at Redwood Medical Center. If you insist, he'll lose all treatment support. Understand?"

I saw tears in her eyes, but she fought to hold them back. Crocodile tears, no doubt. I've seen how calculating she can be.

"I understand. I won't visit my father again," she said, her voice barely audible.

I released her, then took out a handkerchief to meticulously wipe the fingers that had touched her skin. "Emma's back. I'm only going to say this once—stay away from her."

Emma is different. She's special, nothing like this woman beside me who married for money and comfort.

"If I find out you've approached her, or disrupted any of her performances, you'll face the consequences."

Aria's eyes dimmed, understanding that in my view, she's just a cunning, scheming woman. Exactly the effect I wanted.

"Why?" she suddenly asked, her voice eerily calm. "Why did you sign a five-year secret marriage contract with me in the first place?"

I hadn't expected such a direct question. Too direct, too dangerous.

"Because I needed a wife to quell the scandal from three years ago, and you happened to be there. Besides, aside from Emma, all women are the same to me," I answered coldly. "At least you were honest about your price."

With Aria, we had nothing but a cold contract signing. No ceremony, no emotion. Just a transaction: her companionship and nominal marriage in exchange for her father's medical bills and the Morgan family's perfect public image.

I knew she was holding onto some ridiculous fantasy that I'd at least make some gesture to mark the beginning of our so-called 'marriage.' But I didn't. I caught a flight to Paris that very night, the city where Emma was, the only place where I could find a moment of peace.

"Did you ever feel anything for me? Even for a second?" Aria asked softly, interrupting my thoughts.

The question was absurd. Feel something? Between us there was only a contract and mutual benefit.

"No," I answered without hesitation. "Never. This is a business arrangement, nothing more. Don't confuse it with anything else."

I saw something break in her eyes, but I didn't care. Emotions only make you weak, and the Morgan heir can't be weak. She knew what she was signing up for.

"I see," she whispered, then turned to the window, no longer looking at me.

The car stopped at the Hampton estate entrance. The rain continued, though not as heavily as before. Aria didn't move, just sat there as if waiting for my permission.

"Get out," I ordered.

She didn't argue, just nodded and opened the door, walking into the rain. She didn't run, just walked slowly, letting the rain soak her hair and clothes.

She looks so fragile, so alone.

The thought irritated me. I don't need to sympathize with her. She's just part of a contract, nothing more. A woman who chose money over dignity.