Midnight Decisions

Lexi's POV

The car ride home was silent. I both liked and hated it at the same time; I could think, yet I also didn't want to think.

The driver, all professional and clean-cut, didn’t ask questions or glance at me through the rearview mirror. It was like being chauffeured by a ghost, quiet, eerie, and somewhat fitting for the storm still swirling inside me.

As the city blurred past my window as we drove past the city, I pressed my fingers against my thighs to keep from shaking. My mind replayed every word, every expression of Brandon Wilson across the table. Cold. Calculated. But honest, in his own terrifying way.

When the car finally pulled up to my building in East New York, I hesitated before stepping out. I wanted to ask the driver how he knew where I lived when I hadn’t told him anything, but I remembered whose driver this was in the first place. The streets here were quieter, older. Familiar in a way that the rest of Manhattan could never be. The cool air smelled like... well, home, and somewhere in the distance, someone was playing soft bachata on a cracked stereo.

Home. Mine and Aria's home for as long as I could remember, but for how long now?

The driver didn’t say a word, just waited patiently as I stepped out. “Thank you,” I murmured, my voice low. He gave a small nod and then drove off without another word. Yup, definitely associated with Brandon.

The walk up to our apartment felt heavier and shorter than usual, my boots clicking against the worn stairs. I opened the door as quietly as I could. Inside, the lights were dimmed, warm and safe.

Aria was curled up on the couch with a blanket tucked around her, a book in her lap, and her sketchpad open beside her. Her eyes lit up the moment she saw me.

“Mana,” she said softly, “you’re back.”

“Barely,” I muttered, closing the door behind me and kicking off my shoes.

She sat up, folding the blanket aside. “With that facial expression, I can see that. How’d it go?”

I paused, unsure of how to answer. “We... talked.”

“That’s it?” she asked, tilting her head, her inquisitive eyes searching mine.

“We talked… and I think... I might actually be doing this.” My voice was barely above a whisper.

Aria’s face changed into something unreadable. “You’re sure?”

“No,” I admitted, hanging my coat up. “But I’m more sure than I was yesterday.”

She got up and walked over, placing a warm hand on my arm. “You okay?”

“I don’t know. I feel... kinda cracked. But not broken. Yet.”

She nodded slowly. “Do you want tea? Or food? Because I know you didn't eat anything.”

“No. Just... Could you cuddle with me for a while?”

"Absolutely. You know I never say no to a cuddle session." She smiled again.

So we did. After I cleaned up, I headed to our room and got on the bed. Aria didn’t waste any time; she wrapped the blanket around both of us as we lay on the bed in silence, the kind of silence only sisters could share without it feeling awkward. After a few minutes, she raised her head, looked me in the eye, and whispered, “Whatever happens... I’ve got you.”

“I know,” I said. “I’ve always known.”

And I had.

When she eventually fell asleep beside me, I carefully shifted her weight and stood, grabbing my phone and heading into the kitchen. I sat in the chair, knowing sleep wouldn’t be my friend tonight.

It was nearly 1 a.m., but my mind wouldn’t quiet down.

I tried to read. I tried to scroll through random videos. I even attempted to do the dishes still in the sink. But none of it worked. My thoughts kept circling the same thing.

The way Brandon looked at me when I said I wasn’t his. The way he hadn’t flinched, not even once, when I laid out my rules.

This wasn’t a romance. This was a transaction.

And yet, it still felt like I was jumping off a cliff blindfolded.

I moved to the couch and sat, phone in hand, staring at the call log.

What was I doing?

I shouldn’t even be thinking about him , about this. But the words wouldn’t leave me alone. The idea of giving up control,of tying myself to someone like him, even temporarily, made my lungs feel too tight.

But then I thought of Aria again. Of the surgery. The medications. The ticking clock we couldn’t outrun without help.

I opened my messages.

I typed and erased the text five times.

Then finally... I let my fingers do what my heart had already decided.

Me (1:20 a.m.):

I’m in. Let’s talk about the details tomorrow. And like I said, I want it to be written down and signed.

I sat back, expecting nothing. He was probably asleep; after all, even billionaires sleep. Or he might be in a meeting in some different timezone or busy with something else.

I tossed my phone onto the couch, closed my eyes, and ran a hand over my face.

But then it buzzed.

My eyes shot open.

Brandon Wilson (1:21 a.m.):

Good. I’ll have my lawyer set it up. Wear something decent, and be at my office bright and early.

My mouth dropped open slightly.

One minute. Not even.

Had he been waiting?

I stared at the message, unsure whether I was annoyed or impressed. Probably both.

Me:

It’s a meeting, not a fashion show, so don’t dictate to me.

Brandon Wilson: “It’s both. This will be your first impression and encounter in my space. When people see you, they will know, and all the rumors will be proven. 10 a.m. sharp.”

I scowled at my phone. Who texts like that?

Still, there was something about how quickly he replied. No hesitation. No questions. Just clarity. It terrified me, but if I was honest, it also steadied me.

I walked back into the room and sat down on the bed. I put my phone on the nightstand and finally lay back, pulling the blanket up to my chin.

Maybe tomorrow I’d freak out again. Maybe I’d second-guess everything.

But tonight, under the thin covers of our tiny apartment, knowing Aria was safe beside me and that the first real step had been taken…

I felt the tiniest sliver of peace.

Even if it felt like a deal with the devil.