Chapter 6: “I told you she wasn’t ready."

She looked away first.

And she was saved from answering, when the elevator dinged at the top floor.

As the doors opened, she spoke, her voice calm and even.

"Next time, Ethan, I will make sure to brief you before I walk into a scandal... not after." She said coldly.

And just like that, she stepped out, her back straight, head high, and walked toward the executive boardroom as if her entire life hadn’t imploded in front of the internet just last night.

She didn't turn to see if Ethan was following and she honestly didn't care.

As soon as she stepped into the boardroom, she could feel how thick the air was from everyone's poorly disguised panic.

The long glass table was already littered with laptops, phones, half-drunk coffees, and printed articles from Velvet Vine.

And the screens on the wall played a silent loop of news reports and social media clips.

Aria stood at the head of the table, arms crossed, her gaze sharp. Her expression gave nothing away, of the panic she was feeling.

"What do we do about all this?" She asked.

“We need to get ahead of this before it tanks investor confidence,” said Carmen, VP of Marketing, her voice sharp. “We spin it. Frame Aria as a modern woman making bold choices... passion and power, you know? The internet eats that up.”

“No,” Aria said coolly. “That angle romanticizes something the media is already calling unprofessional.”

"Then what about silence? Let it blow over. No statements, no engagement. We focus on business and let the noise die.” Marcus said, while leaning forward and rubbing his temples.

Aria arched an eyebrow. “You think the board will stay quiet while headlines call me unethical and impulsive?”

Marcus went silent at that.

Delilah, head of PR, cleared her throat. “We could arrange an exclusive interview. Sit-down style. Let you control the narrative. Set the record straight, talk about Ethan carefully, emphasize your leadership.”

“That implies I owe the public emotional context. I don’t.” Aria's tone was flat as she replied Delilah.

“What about placing blame elsewhere? Leak something about Adrian Wu... rumors, speculation, get the heat off you.” Another executive tried, his voice uncertain.

Aria turned her eyes to him slowly. “I don’t play dirty. Not even when I have every reason to.”

The silence after her words stretches unnervingly long.

It was interrupted when Ethan entered the room, looking pale with a tablet in hand.

He took the seat beside her, still avoiding her eyes.

In that case, two can play that game.

She didn’t look at him when she spoke.

“Ethan, call our lawyers. I want Velvet Vine sued for defamation and unauthorized use of proprietary footage. Every post, every article... I want it taken down.”

“Understood.” Ethan nodded, still not looking at her.

She turned her focus back to the room. “We will not beg for public sympathy. We will not scramble for control. We are Lin Corporation... and we are in control.” She said, her voice razor-sharp.

“Release a formal statement by noon. Clear, measured, unapologetic. Make it clear the situation is personal, that no company resources were compromised, and that I remain fully in command of operations. No interviews, no leaks, snd Ethan's name doesn’t get mentioned... at all.” She said, her voice hardening without rising, every word landing like a hammer.

They said nothing, just pressed their lips into a sharp, determined line.

“And Carmen,” Aria added, turning just slightly. “Draft a contingency plan in case any sponsors pull out.”

“Yes, Ms. Lin.” Carmen replied sharply.

Aria turned to the window, looking out over the skyline. Her reflection staring back at her in the glass.

Her fingers curled into fists so tight, her knuckles bleached white.

The boardroom emptied quickly once the decisions were made. No one lingered.

She was the last to leave, her heels silent against the marble as she walked down the hallway to her office, her shoulders squared, like the scandal hadn’t touched her.

Once Inside her office, she closed the door quietly.

And she just stood there for a moment, alone in the glass-and-steel sanctuary of her office.

She dragged her feet crossed the room, while slipping off her blazer, and draped it over the back of her chair.

Her white silk blouse clinging slightly to her skin. She hadn’t noticed how warm the room was.

She sat down slowly, and reached for the remote to silence the wall screen still looping news coverage.

In the stillness, Aria could hear the beat of her own pulse, feel it everywhere around her body.

She opened her laptop to see dozens of unread emails. A few from investors and one from her father.

But she ignored them all.

Her gaze drifted to a framed photo tucked into the corner of the bookshelf behind her desk.

She sneered down her nose at the one rare picture of her and Adrian, because he never liked taking pictures with her, at a charity event last fall. All smiles and lies.

She turned the photo face-down. Willing herself not to throw it into the trash.

She reached into her drawer, pulled out a small velvet pouch, and held it in her palm.

Her face turned crimson, veins pulsating with pent-up fury as she clenched her fists, her knuckles white with the intensity of her rage, upon seeing the ring.

Adrian had left it behind, when he was dragged out of the hall yesterday.

She stared at it for a long time, then slowly zipped the pouch shut and set it aside.

Not in the trash, not yet. A time will come for that later.

Her phone buzzed with a new notification... another article from Velvet Vine, this one titled: “The Ice Queen Melts? Sources Claim Aria Lin’s Assistant Has Been Living at Her Penthouse.”

She slammed her hand against the table. The sharp crack reverberating through the room, papers and the remnants of her temper scattering in its wake.

Her jaw clenched, but she said nothing. Her hands trembled from how had she was shaking.

She closed her eyes and counted her breath. One breath in, and one breath out.

*******

Ethan's pov

His apartment was dark, lit only by the flicker of the TV... another gossip segment, muted, and playing on loop.

Ethan sat on the floor, his back against the couch, a half-empty bottle of whiskey cradled between his knees, his tie was on the floor beside him.

His jacket had been thrown onto a chair hours ago, and the top two buttons of his shirt were undone, like he’d tried to breathe and couldn’t quite figure out how.

His phone lay face-down on the coffee table beside a small velvet ring box, sitting unopened.

His eyes were vacant, like the empty windows of a haunted house.

He’d practiced the speech in his head a hundred times, had even checked if her parents were in town.

But instead, he got a front-row seat to Aria Lin’s circus act.

He took another swig, his jaw tightening.

“I told you she wasn’t ready,” he muttered, not sure if he was talking to himself or the bottle. “I told him she didn’t care about the company, that she was childish."

Loud, enraged breaths spiraled from his nose.

The kiss hadn’t even been mutual, she didn’t ask. Just grabbed him and did what she always did, whatever the hell she wanted, without thinking about the fallout.

He gripped the bottle of whiskey with white-knuckled intensity.

And Lisa had been right there.

He saw her face as the crowd gaped. The disbelief and the betrayal.

His eyes were glassy and unfocussed, staring off into the distance without really seeing anything.

He leaned back and took a swig while closing his eyes, as the whiskey burning down his throat.

The apartment felt too quiet, and Lisa’s framed photo on the bookshelf stared at him like a punch.

He picked up the ring box and opened it slowly.

It was simple, elegant and perfect for her.

Now it was just... stupid. He snapped it shut and threw it across the room.

It bounced off the rug and landed near the baseboard.

The light in his eyes had dimmed, taking on a hollowness that was almost distant.

A knock on his door startled him. Three soft raps.

He blinked, feeling disoriented, unsure if he imagined it, but then another knock came, firmer this time around.

He stumbled to his feet, still clutching the bottle, and moved toward the door slowly.

He didn’t ask who it was, he just opened it.

And stopped breathing, upon seeing who it was.