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Chapter Eight
Last Updated:
2025-02-26 20:51:43
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Aretha Hawthorne: The Rise Of The PhoenixĀ Ā Ā Chapter Nine
ššš„šš§šI step off the bus, adjusting the strap of my purse as I start the familiar walk back to my apartment. I've only walked past a few houses when a chill suddenly creeps down my spine, having absolutely nothing to do with the cold.Iām not sure what sets me off firstāthe way the air suddenly feels heavier or the prickling sensation at the back of my neck. But the moment I stop to listen closely, I hear it.Footsteps. Slow. Careful. Too careful. Like they have purpose.My breath hitches, and my fingers tighten around the strap of my bag. It could be nothingāsomeone else walking home or going for an evening strollābut my gut tells me otherwise.Forcing my legs to keep a steady pace, I walk faster, my heart pounding with every step. The streets arenāt deserted, but theyāre quiet enough that every little noise feels amplified.I turn the corner onto my street, my building in sight. Almost there.But my heart lurches when the footsteps behind me seem to pick up speed, closing in.
Last Updated : 2025-02-26Aretha Hawthorne: The Rise Of The PhoenixĀ Ā Ā Chapter Ten
ššš„šš§šStanding before the full-length mirror in my room, I smooth my hands over the silky, cream dress Iād chosen for tonight's occasion. Soft and elegant, despite coming from a clearance rack, it fits snugly yet remains modest. Understated. And exactly what I need to blend in tonight. After that dreadful night few months ago, wearing anything remotely revealing feels impossible.My makeup is minimalālight foundation, a hint of blush, and soft nude gloss. Nothing too bold or attention-grabbing. My choice of jewelry is a pair of delicate silver earrings and a matching bracelet on my wrist. I tilt my head slightly, studying my reflection. My midnight-black hair is swept into a neat bun, with a few stray curls left to frame my face. It doesnāt exactly make me unrecognizable, but it'll have to do.Through the mirror, I spot my best friend behind me, leaning against my bedroom doorway with her arms crossed, a knowing smirk tugging on her lips. āI must say you clean up real nicely,
Last Updated : 2025-02-28Aretha Hawthorne: The Rise Of The PhoenixĀ Ā Ā Chapter Eleven
ššš„šš§šMarcosās car slows to a smooth stop in front of an estate straight out of a European aristocratās dream. Towering Corinthian columns rise along the grand faƧade, their pristine white stone carved with intricate lines and details that tell of a wealth spanning generations. A stately pediment crowns the entrance, adorned with elegant reliefs, while wrought-iron balconies curve above tall, arched windows that gleam beneath the chandelier-lit interior. The mansionās pristine symmetry, from its ornate cornices to the black mansard roof edged with decorative railings, exudes a timeless authority.At the heart of the circular driveway, a tiered marble fountain cascades in soft ripples, the sound blending with the distant hum of classical music being played inside. Sculpted hedges and ornate lampposts frame the path leading to the grand staircase, where a set of gleaming double doors await beneath an opulent glass chandelier.Against the backdrop of the dark but starry night sky,
Last Updated : 2025-02-28Aretha Hawthorne: The Rise Of The PhoenixĀ Ā Ā Chapter Twelve
ššš„šš§šItās only been a little over an hour, yet Iām already exhausted and about ready to call it a night.So far, Marcos has spent the majority of the time introducing me to peopleābusiness associates and some family friendsāall equally pretentious. Iāve smiled, nodded, and played along, enduring the faux interest in me and overly polite small talk, all while dreading the moment Iād inevitably have to meet his parents. The idea of facing them, and of being scrutinized by two of the most renowned figures in the medical world, had weighed on me the entire evening.Until I'd overheard a passing conversation, which I confirmed from Marcos himself. Apparently, his parents were out of the continent on a business assignment to Africa, which is the main reason for this dinner party since it doubles as a fund-raising event. A wave of relief had washed over me so fast I nearly sagged in place when I'd heard. There will be no awkward introductions. No icy stares. And since I'm only here f
Last Updated : 2025-02-28Aretha Hawthorne: The Rise Of The PhoenixĀ Ā Ā Chapter Thirteen
ššš„šš§šOnce inside the bathroom, I turn to the mirror, peeling his jacket off my shoulders. And then I see it.My dress.The cream-colored silk fabric has turned sheer from the spilled drink, clinging to me in a way that leaves almost nothing to the imagination.Oh my God.I slap a hand over my mouth in shock and mortification. That explains why Marcos had looked at me like that. Thatās why he'd reacted so quickly, covering me up before anyone else could see what he had.Heat flares up my neck, all the way to my ears as embarrassment fills me.Grimacing, I grab some paper towels, dabbing at the stain, but all I manage to do is make the fabric look even worse. āSeriously?ā I mutter, feeling the sting of frustrated tears prick my eyes.Gone is the satisfaction from putting Meagan in her place. This night is officially a disaster.The bathroom door swings open, and I tense, instinctively stepping toward a stall to avoid any further scrutiny. But before I can slip inside, a voice st
Last Updated : 2025-02-28Aretha Hawthorne: The Rise Of The PhoenixĀ Ā Ā Chapter Fourteen
ššš„šš§šTonight's shift is turning out to be a slow and uneventful oneājust another night of playing melodies for an audience that barely pays attention. Which I'm really thankful for because after the whirlwind of events that's become my life lately, especially with the drama at the party over the weekend, I crave some silence and normalcy, in which I'm treated as the background noise and not the centre of attention when those three enigmatic men are around. No tension. No smouldering stares or teasing winks. I can only hope that this peace lasts all night, though. But, of course, the universe is always out to give me the opposite of what I want because a few minutes later, the front doors to The Gilded Stag are pushed open and in strides a familiar figureāthe third man that makes up the trio of friends. Nathaniel Ford.Out of the three of them, Nathaniel is the only one who hasn't yet approached me or tried to talk to me. And while I would've concluded that it means that unli
Last Updated : 2025-02-28Aretha Hawthorne: The Rise Of The PhoenixĀ Ā Ā Chapter Fifteen
His smirk is the first thing I noticeālazy, cruel and mocking. Itās the same smirk he always wore when he made my life hell. The same one heād had before I finally escaped him. Escaped all of them.My pulse roars in my ears. How? Why? Of all the countries in Europe, of all the places in this city of London, what are the chances that he would visit Mayfair and walk into this particular restaurant at night when I'm on duty?I stiffen as he leans closer to his friends, muttering something while keeping his eyes locked on mine. Their laughter follows a moment later as two of them turn in my direction before letting out wolf whistles that have me flushing in embarrassment. I donāt even need to hear the words to know exactly what he said to them. I know Tyler.I grit my teeth and try to focus on the piano, but it proves to be impossible as I'm reminded of what he did to me and how I hadn't even known about it until I'd heard it from Stella that day. How he'd seen me naked, touched me and do
Last Updated : 2025-02-28Aretha Hawthorne: The Rise Of The PhoenixĀ Ā Ā Chapter Sixteen
ššš„šš§šThe second I walk through our front door, Yemaya is on me, shoving her phone into my hands before I can even catch my breath. āHave you seen this?āMy best friend's voice is tight with restrained fury, but it barely registers past the sinking weight in my chest. My fingers tremble as I take the phone from her and glance at the screen. And just like that, my stomach twists into a knot so tight I immediately feel sick.Stella.My heart sinks as I read the post sheās just put up earlier tonight. Yet another one of Stella's attempts to publicly humiliate me. The post is a masterpiece of cruelty āpolished, strategic, and laced with the kind of venom only she can wield. Her words drip with malice, alongside carefully crafted insults masked as passive-aggressive remarks about the ācompany the Duke's heir keeps these days.ā She'd dared to drag the Duke's family name into this but that's not what has my hands trembling as I grip harder onto the phone. It's what people have to say a
Last Updated : 2025-02-28
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Aretha Hawthorne: The Rise Of The PhoenixĀ Ā Ā Chapter Seventy-One
šš«ššš”šMarcosās house is exactly what I imagined it would beāelegant, structured, and yet effortlessly warm. The kind of place that feels like a home rather than a showcase. Books line the built-in shelves along the far wall, some stacked horizontally, some upright with worn spines and dog-eared corners. Thereās a hint of cedar in the air, a scent Iād somehow already come to associate with him.āWelcome to Casa Marcos,ā he says with a mock bow, holding the door open as I step in. āShoes off or on?āāIām not in Japan,ā I deadpan, slipping them off anyway. āBut Iāll humor your inner neat freak.āHis grin is boyish, dangerous, and far too charming for a man who claims he doesnāt brood.Lunch is already prepped by the time we move into the kitchen, and the aroma alone is enough to make me weak in the knees. Heās made roast beef with Yorkshire pudding, buttery roasted potatoes, tender-stem broccoli, and gravy that smells like it was made by the angels themselves. For dessert: sticky
Aretha Hawthorne: The Rise Of The PhoenixĀ Ā Ā Chapter Seventy
šš«ššš”šThe familiar buzz of activities at the GemsThorne company headquarters feels like a warm hug after days of unpredictable terrain, ancient jewels, and family feuds that felt like something out of a historical thriller. Londonās cloudy sky greets me with its usual moody charm, and for once, I donāt mind. Thereās something grounding about being back. About knowing exactly where I stand.My heels click softly against the marble as I step out of the elevator and onto topmost floor where my office is located, a genuine smile lighting up my face.āMs. Hawthorne!ā Winnie, my long-suffering and endlessly efficient personal assistant, pops out of her glass-walled office like a meerkat. She looks impeccably put-together as always, in a lilac blouse and black pencil skirt, with her work tablet in hand.āWinnie!ā I greet her in a similar fashion, sweeping her into a brief, exaggerated hug that makes her squeak.āWelcome back, ma'am. I must say though, you seem to be in a good mood tod
Aretha Hawthorne: The Rise Of The PhoenixĀ Ā Ā Chapter Sixty-Nine
ššš¦šš«šØš§Everything about this meeting screams a trap.I sit in the backseat of a nondescript black SUV, eyes trained on the quiet stretch of road as we drive out of the city. The address I was given isnāt the Barsamian mansion where we had the last meetingāitās a guesthouse tucked into the outskirts of a neighboring city. That alone is a red flag. But what makes it worse is that I was explicitly asked to come alone.Of course, Iām not that foolish.A second vehicle trails behind, discreet and distantāmy hired security detail, professionals I trust with my life. I keep my phone in my hand the entire ride, fingers tapping idly against the screen, sending occasional location updates to my manager just in case.Because this? This feels like the kind of story that ends in a disappearance headline.The guesthouse is impressive in a quiet, understated way. Rustic wood beams, a sweeping stone terrace, and tall windows that reflect the gray morning sky. Inside, it smells like lavender a
Aretha Hawthorne: The Rise Of The PhoenixĀ Ā Ā Chapter Sixty-Eight
ššš¦šš«šØš§The moment I shut the door to my suite, I loosen my collar and finally let the smile fall from my face.Iāve been wearing it like armor all dayāthrough the suffocating politeness, the backhanded compliments, the curt dismissal of logic from a spoilt heir with too much money and too little sense. The matriarch was composed, yes. Graceful even. But her silence when her son spat that sexist garbageā¦That silence said more than I liked.I sink into the armchair by the window, the city of Yerevan sprawled beneath me like a glittering mosaic. I should let it go. But the tension stays, coiled tight between my shoulder blades.With a sigh, I reach for my phone and dial.āHey,ā I say when my marketing manager answers. āI need you to pull up alternatives. If the Barsamians donāt get back to us, we need other options for that stone.āāYouāre thinking theyāll back out?āāIām thinking their prince of a son might poison the whole deal. I just want to be ready.āWe talk logistics, pro
Aretha Hawthorne: The Rise Of The PhoenixĀ Ā Ā Chapter Sixty-Seven
šš«ššš”šThe car ride back to the hotel is quiet.Not awkward. Not tense.Justā¦ still.Cameron alternates between texting on his phone and staring out the window, one of his arms draped over the backseat with his fingers tapping out a silent rhythm against the leather. I watch the landscape blur byāstone buildings and narrow alleyways, ancient churches perched atop hills. The sky is beginning to burn orange at the edges, and for the first time all day, I feel the adrenaline ebb from my body like a tide retreating after a storm.I messed things up. I know I did.But Iād do it again in a heartbeat.We enter the hotel lobby without a word, both of us nodding politely to the concierge who greets us. The golden glow of the chandeliers bathes the space in warmth, but I feel anything but. My shoulders are still tight, my hands still restless.We step into the elevator together, side by side. The polished gold doors slide shut, enclosing us in a gentle hum of silence.I glance at him. āYo
Aretha Hawthorne: The Rise Of The PhoenixĀ Ā Ā Chapter Sixty-Six
šš«ššš”šBy the time we arrive, the estate looks like something out of an oil paintingāornate gates, lush grounds, cobblestone paths winding toward a home that could easily double as a museum. The sky has softened into a lazy afternoon haze, and I still havenāt fully shaken the image of that gun pointed at our driver. But Cameron and I are both dressed in our game faces now, and like good little liars, we smile.A housekeeper ushers us into a sitting room where the matriarch waits.Sheās nothing like I expected.Older, yes, with the kind of face carved by time and quiet power, but thereās nothing soft about her. Her posture is steel, her eyes sharp behind thin, gold-rimmed glasses. She wears a high-necked black dress and sits with the kind of stillness that makes you feel like youāre the one being examined.āMr. Lancaster,ā she says to Cameron, voice low and smooth like aged whiskey. āAnd Missā¦āāHawthorne,ā I offer with a polite smile, extending my hand. She doesnāt take it. She j
Aretha Hawthorne: The Rise Of The PhoenixĀ Ā Ā Chapter Sixty-Five
šš«ššš”šThe door slams shut behind him.Cameron is gone.And Iām frozen.My pulse hammers so loud I can barely hear the silence that follows. That kind of silence that only exists when something horrible is about to happen. The kind that makes your stomach twist and your lungs forget how to breathe.I press a hand to my chest, trying to ground myself, but the cold leather of the seat beneath me feels more surreal than comforting.Outside, I can see themāCameronās tall frame moving like a slow fuse toward a man with a gun. A gun. Pointed directly at our driver, who still stands with his hands raised, eyes wide and pleading. The wind catches the hem of the driverās jacket, and for a second, he just looks so human. So fragile.I curse under my breath and lean forward to get a better view. My fingers grip the edge of the headrest so tight they ache.What the hell is going on?This was supposed to be a business trip. Silk deals, rare jewels, Cameron flirting too much and me pretending
Aretha Hawthorne: The Rise Of The PhoenixĀ Ā Ā Chapter Sixty-Four
ššš¦šš«šØš§The next morning, we hit the road.Our driver, an older man with warm eyes and an encyclopedic knowledge of Armenian history, doubles as a tour guide. As the SUV glides through the countryside, he tells us about the Barsamiansāhow their lineage traces back centuries, how they built an empire from silk and spice and sheer force of will.Aretha listens, chin resting in her palm, her gaze drifting between the window and me. I catch her watching me from the corner of her eye for the fifth time.āWhat?ā I ask, smiling. āYouāre staring.āāIām calculating.āāCalculating what?ā I stretch my arm along the back of her seat, not touching her but close enough that her hair brushes my fingers.āWhether this trip is worth enduring your company for another forty-eight hours.āāOuch.ā I clutch my chest with exaggerated pain. āYou wound me. And here I thought we were starting to bond.āāI donāt bond with trouble.āāYou sat next to me. That makes you complicit.āShe snorts and turns back
Aretha Hawthorne: The Rise Of The PhoenixĀ Ā Ā Chapter Sixty-Three
šš«ššš”šYerevan greets us with a soft haze over the mountains and the thick warmth of afternoon sun pressing against the tarmac. The capital feels like a secret whispered between the ancient and the modernāa city made of stone, sky, and silent stories.Several hours after we land, I expect weād be whisked straight to our client. Thatās what I signed up for. Business. Strictly business.Instead, we end up checking into a hotel nestled in the city centerāa luxury boutique place that smells faintly of rosewater and cedar. I wheel my suitcase into a suite that could easily host a cocktail party, then march back out toward Cameronās room, irritation simmering just under my skin.He opens the door already dressed in a crisp linen shirt and slacks, smelling like something expensive and maddening.āWhy are we here?ā I demand, arms crossed. āI meanāhere, at a hotel? Shouldnāt we be heading to the clientās estate or... at least contacting them?āCameronās smile is entirely too relaxed for
