I return the kiss with something like hunger, maybe something like madness. It’s a frenzy and a starving blind and dumb need, and I can’t hold it back. He crushes me in his arms, in his kiss, and I feel held, protected, valued.
Slowly, he breaks the kiss off and steps away from me. “I need time to think,” he says. “I don’t know how I’m going to play this with your father.”
“Whatever I can do to help,” I say.
“Of course.” He grins at me. “Don’t worry. I’ve handled bullies before. I can handle your father.”
I nod, convinced that’s true.
He turns and walks past me and toward the door. I watch him go with something like admiration and something like horror. I’m afraid that if he leaves now, he’ll never come back. But I can’t call out for him. I have to let him go.
He pauses and looks back at me. He smiles and nods, and then leaves the room. I stand there, breathing in and out, and finally collapse onto the couch.
So much happened so fast, and I’m still processing. I don’t know how we got to this point, and it is a point, but it’s one that I don’t entirely understand.
Something is happening between us. It’s more than just him buying me and making me his pet. There’s a real connection, one strong enough that he’s willing to risk important things for me. But I can barely even handle that.
I don’t know what to do from here. The only thing I can think to do is to turn on the television and try not to cry.
And so that’s what I do.
23
Ethan
Another morning spent distracted, trying to get work done, but only able to think about Aria.
Fortunately, most of what needs to get finished can be delegated. I hate to do that, but I can’t imagine that I’ll be able to buckle down and get it all finished in time if I try to take it all on myself.
I need to figure out this Richard Taylor issue. That’s the most important thing right now. If I don’t bend and give him what he wants, then he’ll destroy me, and all this work will be for nothing.
But if I do that, it’ll mean giving up Aria and betraying her. I just can’t do that. I couldn’t handle it if she gave me up to my father, and I can’t imagine doing that to her. Even if she says she’s strong enough, and even if she really is, it’s not right.
I won’t do it. I won’t give in. I won’t fucking lose to this scumbag piece of shit. Before, I was willing to bend to him and to give in for the sake of the company, because I didn’t really know who he is. But now I do.
After everything Aria told me about her father, I won’t let him win this, too. He’s a small, power-hungry little piece of garbage, and I won’t roll over for him. Just because he’s rich and used to be famous doesn’t mean he can do whatever he wants. Someone has to stand up to him, and that someone has to be me.
Too bad I don’t know how. I have nothing to fight him with. The only thing I have is Aria, but she’s not a tool to be used in this little war, despite what her father may think. She doesn’t deserve any of this.
I surprised myself by the way I reacted to The Syndicate trying to take her away. I was in shock after finding out who her father is and part of me thought she might be a traitor. I thought she might have been a mole, planted in my house by Richard. I gave him too much credit, of course. Richard isn’t some grandmaster of chess, he’s just a bully with a large bank account.
But even despite my suspicions about Aria, I couldn’t let them have her. I couldn’t let them take her away and give her to Richard Taylor. I couldn’t do that to her. She doesn’t deserve it, but more than that, I want her. She’s mine.
I opened up to her in ways I never expected, and I felt that returned by her. I felt her own pain and humiliations and failures, just like she felt mine, and we were connected. We still are connected, and the idea of letting The Syndicate break that connection drives me fucking insane.
No, it just isn’t going to happen. She’s safe back at my house. I’ve already hired a small private security firm, and they’ll be guarding the house twenty-four seven for as long as this situation continues. The Syndicate won’t get anywhere near Aria unless I let them.
And if I need more muscle, more guns, more men, I’ll get them. I’ll expend any amount of money I have to.
But the issue of Richard is still outstanding. I pick up my phone and dial his private number, not really thinking about it.
He answers on the third ring.
“Ethan,” he says.
“Richard.” I try to keep the anger and disgust from my voice.
“I was wondering when I’d hear from you.”