MasukThe sound of rapidfire typing filled the space as Aria tried to get her mind off her marriage and into her brand new job.
Aston had touched her, he had pulled her tightly into his space right in front of her son, and he had whispered in her ear in a way that probably seemed loving to Asher. “Act right, Aria. If the boy tells Arthur how his parents don’t act like they love each other, how would our marriage be happy?”, he had asked, his breath ghosting her ear. He didn’t sound angry, but Aria had felt threatened by his words once again. What was his obsession with keeping a happy marriage anyway? “Miss Griffin?”, a petite young woman came to stand of Aria’s run down desk, out of all the other assistants’ desks around, assistants that didn’t start working the day before, her face hardened like she’d rather be anywhere else. Aria filed her husband somewhere separate. It was rather hard to breathe around the woman, her perfume strong enough to choke Aria’s throat and sting her nose. “It’s Mrs actually”, she said with a small smile, trying to ease the woman in front of her. She didn’t exactly want to make unnecessary enemies. She had far too much of them already. Her smile had the opposite effect. “Aria then”, she said imperially, tapping a sharp, blood red manicured nail on Aria’s desk like a vampire knocking to be let in and ravage the place. “I need you to deliver a few folders to the upper floors.” Ah. Noted. One of Hartie’s minions it seemed. Hartie herself was a far too important director to do the dirty work of harassing Aria personally. Aria had peeped through her office the day before on her way back from Liam. It was full of literal trash. Wrappers everywhere and takeout containers all over her desk. The icon indeed. She couldn’t summon Aria to her office because she was still as messy as Aria remembered. “That seems unprofessional, doesn’t it?”, Aria cocked her head to the side in derision. She was a low level assistant right then, but she was still the owner of Risher, and the granddaughter of Arthur Griffin. Aria hadn’t gone through everything she went through in life just to deal with disrespect from a blind follower. Arthur would have her assasinated in frustration. “You think you’re so important. You’re just an assistant.” She leaned closer, smiling insincerely at Aria. “Come to my office, pick up the folders, and take them where they belong.” She didn’t give Aria a chance to respond, walking away while swaying her hips like she just did something. She swayed so hard that her hair in a ponytail swayed with her dramatically. Aria squinted. It wouldn’t be considered disobeying if she didn’t go. She just didn’t know the woman’s office after all. Heh. The office games just begun. She felt eyes on her and looked up to see her fellow assistants looking at her in disbelief. “I don’t know if I want to say that was bold or that was stupid”, a blonde haired guy, Jason, was the first to speak up. “You don’t make Valerie mad, it’s just the rule around here”. He sounded preppy, feminine, gay. Aria gave herself a mental slap. She couldn’t simply assume. But he also looked it. “Who is she then?”, Aria asked, her eyes sweeping across her two other colleagues. Their eyes simultaneously brightened and Aria shivered, in fear? Maybe. They looked feverish to inform, all three of them, like they were ready to burst into a musical number about how much of a witch Valerie was. “Wait, wait!”, Melissa, the one that had rushed in late with a coffee tray exclaimed. “We can’t talk here. Let’s all…go get lunch at the cafetaria during our break or something!” “Oh yeah that’s right!”, said Jen. “Fair warning, the food there is actually fucktastically horrible”. Jen seemed awfully vulgar, leaning back in her seat and licking a lolipop nonchalantly. She looked older but acted like a troubled teenager. Aria liked her. “Then let’s go somewhere else. My treat. You just point the way”, she said. “Okay, I think I might like you”, Jason said, squinting like she did. Aria had the strong feeling that they didn’t know about her, or her relationship with the Rothschilds. The thought made her giddy. She was keeping it secret for as long as she co— Her thoughts were interrupted by yet another person waltzing in through the door of their office. “Miss Griffin, Mr Adams needs you.” Who the hell was Mr Adams? Why did everybody need her now? As she followed the messenger, she felt a hand on her wrist holding her back. It was Jen. “I don’t know why all these big names want you, but be careful, especially with Mr Adams”, her eyes were pleading. Aria was practically a stranger to her yet the woman was begging her to be careful? “I’ll be careful”, she assured. Whoever he was, no one could be as scary as the man she just married. Her phone pinged as she got to the front of Mr Adam’s office, the messenger leaving her alone. It was a text from Linda, her friend monitoring her store in France. Linda never texted her. Something must have happened. Aria’s brows furrowed in worry.Aria startled at the sudden white flash and immediately swiveled her head to look in the direction it came from. That was a bad idea. There were four men with cameras and flashing lights, running over from the other side of the street. Hartie must have called them in, possibly to have them ask how she could enter Kumari, possibly to highlight how low she was on their hierarchical food chain. Or maybe just to embarrass her. The snake was unpredictable like that. Aston just stood still, barely even shifting at the rapid flashes of white that lit Aria and him up like they were at a disco. There was now commotion in the street. People turned to look at what celebrity the paparazzi were harassing. Even cars slowed down and phones came up in the hopes to record for clout. Aria raised her mask back on her face, far too late. She was no celebrity, but she had experienced so many ambushes that her natural fight or flight activated. Her heart pounded and her legs moved without any
“You must be my wife’s lovely family,” the voice rolled out like steel coated in velvet. Aria’s every nerve was completely keyed to Aston’s hand on her shoulder. The warmth radiated directly as though there weren’t multiple layers of clothes on her, like she’d been branded. She turned her head up to confirm and her breath caught in her throat. He was cloaked head to toe, a dark coat hanging off his broad shoulders, a cap pulled low over his eyes, a mask identical to hers in place. Not a single trace of his face was visible. And yet, somehow, his presence eclipsed the whole booth. Hartie blinked once. Just once. But in that single blink, Aria saw it, the falter in her composure, the flicker of something she’d never seen in Hartie before. Hunger. Interest.She hadn’t even seen Aston’s face yet she was already attracted to him. The sight of it made something curl in Aria’s gut, it was a feeling adjacent to possessiveness. She hated him, but she hated Hartie more. She didn’t like
Aria’s lips pressed into a thin line. The sharp sting of her mother’s words could have been paralyzing, if she let it. But she refused. She had spent years clawing herself out of ruin, out of the reputations others tried to suffocate her with. She would not let Camille’s venom touch her tonight.Hartie, as always, was the calmer one, the more calculating one. Their mother hated Aria too much to be properly cold when she was involved. She stepped slightly forward, her hand brushing against Camille’s arm to keep her back. They lowered themselves into the empty seats in the booth. Hartie’s gaze, deceptively warm but sharp, a gaze Aria had been tricked by many times in the past, landed on Aria with an almost imperceptible patience. “Aria,” Hartie said softly, “don’t let mom’s words make you sad. We just need information. About your… marriage.”Aria’s eyebrows shot up. “You mean, to who in the Beaumont clan I married? Isn’t the great Rothschild clan good enough to figure it out?”Hartie
"Why did you get married?", he asked, his eyes narrowed and grave, the pressure she felt in his presence magnifying. It was like being faced with a giant mountain."Why do people get married Liam? Love, obviously", she scrunched her eyebrows, making sure to sound like she thought he was foolish for asking her the question in the first place.She needed his help, yes. But he was seeing her for the third time since she came back from France, and every single time, he had managed to make her feel caged or humiliated. Liam scoffed, as though her words were funny. "Don't lie to me, Aria. Is the man your little bastard's father?", he asked, something swimming in his eyes, something Aria couldn't properly interpret. Did he just fucking call her Asher a bastard? Did he just call his son a little bastard?Not only had he left her in the dirt five years ago, but he was now also insulting her son. Insulting the most important person in her life. Because of his hatred for her ring and the conno
The Uber slowed to a crawl as the driver turned down the narrow road that sliced through downtown Los Altos. The further they went, the more the street seemed to shift, it was less neon, less noise, and more quiet wealth seeping from the bones of the buildings.Aria leaned against the window, her mask warm against her face, her thoughts louder than the hum of the car.Kumari.Kumari was this extremely expensive, and extremely exclusive bar that only the elite got to be in. Even the children of powerful people weren’t allowed in, only with a certain level of connections could you get in.There was another bar right beside it, Lumari. It was practically a giant fuck you to the owner of Kumari, because Lumari was also for the elite, but at least just normal classy people could get in. Only connections got you into Kumari, and Aria's only connection was probably upstairs.The driver pulled over. “This the spot?”Aria’s pulse thrummed. She glanced at the towering black façade of Kumari, t
Aria sat at her dress up mirror long after Liam’s first message, staring at her phone like it was a venomous snake. Every second she hesitated felt like a trap closing in on her. Her chest tightened as she swooped her hair up into a tight bun, dusting some light foundation on her face before donning a face mask. She wasn’t going to see him because she missed him. She wasn’t. She was going because he had mentioned the Beaumont name, and if there was one person alive that could measure high up enough to dig up dirt on that man, it was Liam Rothschild. And if he decided not to help her, she still had Mr. Adams to dangle. Her fingers hovered over the screen, looking through their short thread of messages. A: “You’re really concerned about my marriage” L: “And you’re testing my patience, Aria. I’m at Kumari. It’s your call”The nerve.Aria’s teeth sank into her bottom lip until she tasted copper. For a split second, she considered hurling her phone against the wall and almost de







