Chapter 26
Aria’s POV
I took a deep breath, deciding to just dive in headfirst. If I was going down, I might as well go down spectacularly.
“Actually, we met at a charity gala,” I began, weaving truth with fiction. “I was there with my… former fiancé.” I noticed Evelyn’s eyebrows raise slightly. “Aiden was across the room, and our eyes met p>
I smiled, remembering not a romantic connection but the cold, calculating look he’d given me when I first approached him with my proposal.
“Nothing happened that night, of course. I was engaged to someone else.” I stirred my tea, wondering how much Aiden had told his grandmother about my very public humiliation. “But fate has strange ways p>
“Indeed it does,” Evelyn agreed, her sharp eyes never leaving my face.
“After my engagement ended I carefully edited out the altar abandonment, “I found myself at a business meeting where Aiden was present. He recognized me immediately p>
This much was true, at least.
“And you know your grandson-once he sets his mind on something, he’s relentless.” I forced a fond smile. “He pursued me quite… intensely p>
Evelyn leaned forward, clearly delighted by this fictional version of her grandson. “Aiden? Pursuing a woman? That doesn’t sound like him at all p>
“Oh, he was very determined,” I continued, warming to my story. “Flowers at my office, surprise lunch deliveries. He even showed up at my father’s house to ask his permission to court me properly p>
The lies flowed easily now, painting Aiden as some lovesick puppy instead of the cold-blooded businessman who’d married me for a piece of land and to fulfill his grandmother’s wishes.
“I resisted at first,” I said, adding a touch of truth. “I wasn’t ready for another relationship. But he was… persistent p>
“And when did you know he was the one?” Evelyn asked, completely captivated by my fictional romance.
I thought about how to answer, my fingers unconsciously tracing the diamonds at my throat. “When he looked at me like I was the only person in the room,” I said softly, surprising myself with how much I wished it were true.
Evelyn reached across to pat my hand. “My grandson is a fortunate man, even if he doesn’t always show it p>
I swallowed hard, guilt twisting my stomach. After Aiden returned and we left his grandmother’s estate, I’d have some serious explaining to do.
After my creative storytelling, Evelyn and I settled into easier conversation. She was sharp, witty, and had a wealth of knowledge on everything from classical literature to current politics. Time passed quickly as we chatted.
“Would you like to see some photos of Aiden as a child?” she asked suddenly, eyes twinkling with mischief.
“I would love nothing more,” I replied, unable to resist the opportunity.
She led me to a handsome mahogany bookcase and pulled out several leather- bound albums. “These are my treasures,” she said, guiding me to a comfortable settee where we could look through them together.
The first album contained baby pictures – Aiden as an infant with chubby cheeks and those unmistakable blue eyes. Even as a baby, he seemed to have that intense stare.
“He was always so serious,” Evelyn commented, turning pages to show a toddler Aiden, rarely smiling but impossibly cute.
I studied a photo of young Aiden in a formal suit, standing stiffly beside a Christmas tree. “He looks uncomfortable p>
“He hated those parties,” she confirmed. “But Alex-his father-insisted. ‘A Carter must always present the right image,’ he would say p>
As we continued through the albums, I began to see a pattern. Young Aiden, always impeccably dressed, always composed, but increasingly isolated in the photographs. Fewer images with friends, more of him alone with books or at formal events.
“Was he always so… reserved?” I asked carefully.
“Oh yes. Even more so after She turned another page, revealing a family portrait that made my breath catch. Aiden stood between a distinguished-looking man with his exact jawline and a beautiful woman with his eyes. He appeared to be around twelve years old.
“His parents?” I asked softly.
Evelyn nodded, her finger tracing the image of her son. “Alex and Eleanor. This was taken about a year before the accident p>
“Accident?” I prompted gently, sensing her hesitation.
“A plane crash,” she said quietly. “Their private jet went down over the Atlantic. Aiden was supposed to be with them, but he came down with pneumonia the day before their departure. That illness saved his life p>
My heart constricted. “How old was he p>
“Thirteen.” Evelyn’s voice grew distant. “He changed after that. Withdrew into himself even more. Alex had been grooming him to take over the company someday, but suddenly ‘someday’ seemed much closer p>
I thought about thirteen-year-old Aiden, losing both parents and suddenly carrying
the weight of the Carter legacy on his young shoulders.
“He became obsessed with control,” Evelyn continued. “Excelling at everything, never allowing himself to fail or show weakness. By eighteen, he was sitting in on board meetings. By twenty-one, he had his own division of the company p>
“And friends? Relationships?” I asked, trying to reconcile this history with the man I’d married.
“Few and far between,” she admitted. “And romantic relationships? Even fewer. That’s why your story surprised me so much. Aiden pursuing someone She shook her head in wonder. “He’s never been one to chase after anything that wasn’t a business acquisition p>
I swallowed hard, guilt rising at my deception.
“But with you,” Evelyn continued, her eyes bright, “he’s different. I can see it already. The way he looks at you when he thinks no one is watching p>
Was that true? I thought back to our interactions, searching for any sign that Aiden viewed me as anything other than a convenient solution to multiple problems.
“I hope I can help him,” I said quietly, not knowing what else to offer.
“You already are.” Evelyn squeezed my hand. “Now, let me show you something that will really make you laugh p>
She flipped forward several pages and pointed triumphantly to a photograph that made me gasp in delight.
There was teenage Aiden-fifteen, perhaps his usually perfect appearance completely undone. His hair was a disaster of lime green spikes, his expression a mixture of mortification and resignation as he stood beside what appeared to be a science project.
“What happened?” I asked, leaning closer in disbelief.
“His chemistry experiment went terribly wrong!” Evelyn chuckled. “He was trying to create some advanced formula—always showing off, that boy—and it exploded. Turned his hair that ghastly color for almost two weeks! He had to attend the regional debate championship looking like that p>
I couldn’t help it-I burst out laughing. The image of dignified, controlled Aiden
Carter with punk-rock green hair was too much.
“Did he win the debate?” I managed between giggles.
“Of course he did,” Evelyn said proudly. “Though his opponent was so distracted by his appearance, it hardly seemed fair p>
I wiped tears of mirth from my eyes. “I can’t even imagine it—Mr. Perfect with neon green hair! God, I wish I could’ve seen it in person p>
Evelyn giggled, “then his clients would faint from shock! The man who refuses to have even one hair out of place p>
“The great Aiden Carter,” I said dramatically, “feared by all who meet him, reduced to looking like a punk rocker. I bet he slept sitting up for those two weeks to protect his precious image p>
“He practically did!” Evelyn confirmed, her laughter mingling with mine. “And he wore a hat everywhere. A hat! In the middle of summer! The boy nearly got heatstroke trying to hide that hair p>
“I’m surprised he didn’t just shave it all off,” I said, still chuckling.
“I suggested that,” Evelyn replied with a mischievous grin. “He was horrified. Said being bald would be even worse than being green p>
I raised an eyebrow. “Was he always like this? I mean… was he born in a suit p>
Evelyn cackled. “Oh, absolutely. Three-piece, tailored, probably clenched his little baby fists when the delivery room lighting wasn’t ‘boardroom appropriate p>
We both burst out laughing.
“I swear,” I said, wiping a tear, “he probably had a baby briefcase and a strategic plan for nap time p>
“Is it really that funny p>
I whirled around to find Aiden standing in the doorway, arms crossed, expression unreadable. My laughter died instantly.
“I—” I began, but words failed me. How long had he been there? What had he
heard?