Chapter 55
Aria’s POV
I watched Aiden leave the dining room, wondering what was on his mind. Maybe his aunt’s visit had put him in a bad mood. That could explain why he’d hardly touched his food.
My thoughts scattered when Lucy returned to clear the table.
Her eyes widened at the sight of all the barely-touched dishes-especially on Aiden’s side of the table. The color drained from her face.
“Was… was something wrong with the food, Mrs. Carter?” she asked, her voice trembling slightly.
The poor woman looked absolutely terrified, and my heart sank.
I suddenly remembered this morning when Lucy had nervously approached me in the kitchen.
“Mrs. Carter,” she had asked tentatively, “do you happen to know what Mr. Carter prefers for dinner? I’ve worked here three months, but he’s rarely home for meals p>
Since Aiden hardly ever ate at home, she didn’t know his preferences—and honestly, neither did I. But instead of admitting that awkward truth about our arrangement, I’d simply smiled and told her, “Oh, he’s not picky. Don’t worry about
it p>
God, I felt awful now. My careless answer might have just put her job at risk.
“No, no! The food was absolutely amazing,” I reassured her quickly. Then, in a moment of desperate inspiration, I lowered my voice. “It’s just that… I was being difficult this morning. I deliberately asked you to make things that Aiden doesn’t really enjoy. It was childish of me, I’m sorry p>
The lie felt awkward on my tongue, but I couldn’t bear to see her so worried. Lucy was one of the few people in this massive house who actually treated me like a human being rather than an intruder.
Just as the words left my mouth, I felt a shift in the air behind me. Turning around, I found Aiden standing in the doorway, his expression unreadable but his eyes sharp and focused. My heart plummeted. Had he heard everything?
Lucy, sensing the tension crackle between us, quickly gathered the remaining dishes and scurried away with impressive speed, leaving Aiden and me alone in uncomfortable silence.
“You and Lucy seem close,” he remarked, walking toward the table with that graceful, predatory stride of his.
“Not really,” I said, fidgeting with my napkin like it was the most interesting thing in the world. “I just didn’t want her to feel bad about the food p>
His dark eyes studied me for a moment too long, making my skin prickle with awareness. Desperate to change the subject, I gestured to the crystal bowl of fresh fruit on the side table.
“Would you like some watermelon? Or maybe grapes? They’re really sweet p>
“I don’t like sweet things,” he replied simply.
I took a bite of watermelon myself, the juice refreshingly cool against my tongue,
when suddenly something clicked in my mind.
“Can I ask you something?” I ventured, looking up at him.
Aiden raised an eyebrow slightly, his version of permission to continue.
“If you don’t like sweet things, why do you have all these sweet fruits in the house? This watermelon is practically candy, and these grapes are just as sweet p>
I wasn’t trying to be difficult-I was genuinely curious.
“You may have misunderstood,” he said, his voice low.
I looked at him, confusion written all over my face.
“The watermelon, the grapes—I didn’t order them. The housekeeper did.” He leaned back casually against the sofa, regarding me with those intense eyes. “I assume she thought that my wife might enjoy sweet things. She was trying to make you feel welcome p>
I don’t know why, but the way he said “my wife” sent a strange flutter through my chest. There was nothing inappropriate about it—I was legally his wife, even if our marriage was just a business arrangement. But hearing those words from his lips made my ears burn hot.
“Oh,” I managed to say, reaching up to touch my heated earlobe. “I see p>
Well, that was embarrassing. I should probably stop asking such personal questions.
But then I remembered poor Lucy, and forced myself to press on. “Was lunch not to your liking because the maple-glazed steak and honey-roasted carrots were too sweet p>
Aiden gave me a sidelong glance. “Something like that p>
“Something like that? What does that mean p>
“It means yes, but not entirely p>
I stared at him, completely baffled. Was he deliberately being cryptic just to mess with me?
I finished my watermelon in silence, swallowing my frustration along with it. For Lucy’s sake, I had to try one more time.
“The lunch menu was my suggestion,” I admitted, looking up at him cautiously. “Lucy’s cooking is actually really good. Could you… would you consider keeping her on staff p>
I watched him nervously, afraid a single “no” would determine Lucy’s fate instantly. Aiden’s dark eyes met mine, taking in what I’m sure was my most hopeful, pleading expression. Something in his gaze softened almost imperceptibly.
“If you like her cooking, she can stay,” he said simply.
Relief washed over me. “Thank you,” I said, genuinely grateful.
“Mm,” he hummed in acknowledgment.
He studied me for a moment longer, his expression shifting subtly before he closed
his eyes, apparently settling in for a brief rest.
I couldn’t help but think that maybe Aiden wasn’t quite as cold as he seemed. Sure,
he could be meticulous and exacting, but there was something else there too.
For Lucy’s sake—and maybe a bit for my own curiosity-I gathered my courage for one more question.
“Could we make a deal?” I asked tentatively.
His eyes opened, dark and attentive. “What kind of deal p>
“Don’t you think it’s a bit strange that as your wife, I don’t know anything about your preferences? Your likes and dislikes p>
I don’t know what part of that amused him, but the corner of his mouth twitched slightly, and then-incredibly-he actually smiled at me.
The transformation was astonishing. His usually severe features softened, his eyes warming like dark honey. It was like watching a rare flower bloom in the snow- unexpected and mesmerizing.
My heart actually skipped a beat, and my face grew inexplicably warm.
God, he was dangerously handsome when he smiled.
“You can ask Lucas for details,” he suggested, amusement lingering in his voice.
I nodded probably too quickly and mumbled something that might’ve been a thank-you.
Then, before I could further embarrass myself or do something truly ridiculous like stare at him for another full minute, I fled to the music room, my cheeks still burning.
Playing the piano had always been my sanctuary. I lost myself in Chopin for nearly two hours, my fingers finding the familiar patterns as my mind tried to make sense of my new life.
The music helped clear my head, each note washing away my confusion and embarrassment.
When I finally stopped, my fingers were stiff but my heart was lighter. I reached for my phone to check the time and noticed a notification from my banking app.
Curious, I tapped it open.
My hands started trembling so violently that I nearly dropped my phone.
There, on the screen, was a transfer notification:
Amount: $100,000,00
Source: Aiden Carter
Ten million dollars.
My mind went completely blank as I stared at all those zeros. This couldn’t be real.
This had to be some kind of mistake.
But it wasn’t a mistake. Aiden Carter had just transferred Ten million dollars into my
account.
What did he mean?