Chapter 5: Who is he?

Jason's POV

I had spent the last hour complaining over Aria’s work, not because it was flawed, but because it was the only way I could punish her.

But a huge part of me knew I was doing this to have her around longer.

Even if I hated to admit it.

I knew if I didn't find a reason to reject her layouts, she would walk out at 6:00 p.m. sharp like every other worker, and I’d be left alone.

I pressed the intercom button. "Ms. Bennett. My office. Bring the Lennox boards."

I didn’t wait for a response and I dropped the line.

Three minutes later, the door swung open with a violence that told me she hadn't lost her fire.

Aria stood there, looking exhausted, her hair was even slightly messy and she was still wearing the necklace I had given her years ago again. My heart ached seeing her like this.

"It’s seven o'clock, Jason," she said, walking toward my desk. "My team is gone. My designers are home. Why am I still here?"

"You're here because this is important," I lied, sliding the folder to her. "The Lennox brand is built on a century of precision. Your pitch feels like a greeting card. It’s too soft, and it’s sentimental. Cross Group doesn't deal in feelings, Aria. We deal in market dominance."

"Sentimental? It’s a heritage watch company, you arrogant prick. People buy them to pass down to their sons. They buy them to hold onto memories. If you looked past your money for five seconds, you’d realize that’s the one thing you can’t actually buy”

"Is that right?" I stood up, the chair screeching against the floor.

I walked around the desk until I was in her space, close enough to smell her cologne. "And what do you know about things money can't buy? You seemed pretty clear on the price of our future four years ago."

Aria flinched as if I’d struck her, but she didn't back down. "You have no idea what you're talking about."

"I know what I'm talking about," I rasped. "Now, sit down. We’re staying until everything is perfect."

Aria sat and continued working on the project in my office. Every time she bit her lip it sparked a nerve in me. A nerve I had spent four years trying to bury.

"It has to be this one, Jason! It’s professional and perfect!"

"It's not perfect," I snapped, looking at her finger. "It’s too dark."

"It isn't too dark! It invites the viewer to look closer!"

She was leaning over the table, her face inches from mine as she tried to explain something, I didn't pay mind to.

Then her phone rang. The sound slicing through the silence like a blade.

I had been staring at her mouth all this while. I didn't even realize it until the ringing started.

I wondered what it would feel like to kiss her again.

No—No—No.

I couldn't be thinking about this. I'm supposed to destroy her, not lust over her.

I took a deep breath, trying to tell myself that this was just all part of the plan.

She looked at the screen, and her face lit up. She turned away from me, walking toward the floor-to-ceiling windows.

"Hey, sweetheart," she said into the phone.

My jaw tightened, the words hit a nerve.

"I know, I know," she murmured, her forehead resting against the glass. "I'm so sorry I'm not there to tuck you in. I'm almost done, okay, baby? Just a little longer."

I stood frozen by the table, my hands clenched into fists so tight my fingernails almost drew blood from my palms.

She used to call me that once, but now she was saying that to another man in my presence.

Who was he? Who was the man who got to hear that voice at 10:00 p.m.? Who was waiting for her in the bed that should have been mine?

"I love you too," she whispered, her voice cracking slightly. "Sleep tight. I’ll see you in the morning. Okay... bye, baby."

She hung up and stayed facing the window for a long time.

When she finally turned around, her cold and distant expression was back.

"I'm finished for the night, Jason. I’ve done my best. Accept or don't accept it, I don't care anymore."

"Who was that?" I asked.

"It's private."

"Private?" I took a step toward her. “You're working in my office, under a contract I own. Nothing is private."

"You acquired my company, Jason. You didn't acquire my soul. And you certainly didn't acquire my life either." She gathered her bag, her hands trembling. "I'm leaving. Now."

"Aria—" I reached for her arm, stopping her as she tried to brush past me.

The contact was electric. A part of me wanted to shake her hand off.

But another part, badly wanted to kiss her until she forgot the name of whoever was on the other end of that phone.

I looked down at her, my gaze boring into hers. "Is he worth it? The man you just called? Is he worth all of this?"

Aria looked at me, and for a second, a bitter smile found its way to her lips. "He's worth everything," she said softly. "He's the only thing in this world that is."

She pulled her arm out of my grip. This time, I didn't stop her, I let her go.

I looked down at the conference table. The

I picked up the pen I’d used to comment on her work with shaky hands. I reached for the Lennox document, and I began to cross out every single one of my own corrections.

She was right. She was right about the brand, she was right about the heritage, and she was right about the sentiment.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out a small, velvet box I’d kept hidden in my desk for years.

Inside was the matching compass for the necklace I gave to her years ago.

"Who is he, Aria?" I whispered to the empty room.