The CEO's Midnight Remedy novel Chapter 125

Aria’s POV

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I woke to New York’s skyline stretching beyond floor–to–ceiling windows, the morning light casting long shadows across an unfamiliar room. Confusion gripped me before memories of the previous night returned -the beach house engulfed in flames, my mother’s last tangible memories turning to ash, and Devon pulling me away from the blaze.

Looking down, I realized I was covered with a soft gray cashmere blanket in Devon’s master bedroom. I’d

fallen asleep in his arms last night after asking him to stay with me–a moment of weakness I immediately

regretted.

The memory surfaced with uncomfortable clarity: lying in the darkness, I had believed Devon was asleep when I allowed silent tears to fall. My body had shaken with grief I tried desperately to contain. To my surprise, he’d tightened his arm around me and patted my back gently. He hadn’t spoken–not a single word of hollow comfort–just offered quiet support until I drifted off, surrounded by the sandalwood scent of his cologne. That unexpected tenderness now made me feel even more exposed.

Now daylight brought reality crashing back. My phone was dead, my wallet lost in the chaos at the fire scene, and I was wearing yesterday’s clothes that still smelled faintly of smoke. I had no way to call a car or even pay for coffee. My stomach knotted with anxiety at feeling so helpless.

I slipped out of bed, attempting to leave quietly, when the bathroom door opened. Devon emerged, hair slightly damp, wearing a crisp white button–down shirt and tailored trousers, no tie–slightly less sharp- edged than usual.

“Planning a dramatic escape?” His voice carried a hint of mockery, but his eyes “There’s a charger by the couch if you need it.”

hing else.

“Thanks,” I mumbled, suddenly aware of my rumpled appearance. I ran my fingers through my tangled hair, feeling heat rise to my cheeks. “I should get going.”

“To where, exactly?” He raised an eyebrow. “Your beach house is gone, and from what I recall, you’re not particularly welcome at your father’s at the moment.”

His bluntness stung. I swallowed hard, blinking back the sudden moisture in my eyes. He wasn’t wrong.

I sat on the edge of his leather sofa, plugging in my phone. As soon as it had enough charge to function, I responded to Sofia’s twenty–plus unread messages. She’d been frantic since seeing news of the fire. My

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Chapter 125

fingers trembled slightly as I typed reassurances I didn’t feel.

Lying back on the couch, I stared at the ceiling, mentally cataloging the disasters.

o address. Scarlett and the Blake family would be out for blood after yesterday’s public humiliation. My jaw clenched as I considered their potential retaliation.

The doorbell rang, and Devon’s assistant Marcus appeared, impeccable in his black suit with that perpetual

expression of efficient seriousness.

“The fire department has completely extinguished the blaze,” Marcus reported, his tone businesslike. I’m afraid the house is beyond recognition. The interior, furnishings, and personal items are almost completely

destroyed.”

I gripped the doorframe to steady myself, my knuckles turning white. The air seemed to thin around me.

“Initial assessment indicates arson,” he continued. “The police are investigating.”

The word “arson” hit me hard. My mother’s house–deliberately destroyed. My vision blurred momentarily, and I felt sick to my stomach. Devon’s eyes narrowed, watching my reaction.

“I’ll be out for most of the day,” Devon said, turning to me. “You’re welcome to stay. The refrigerator is

stocked.”

I found my voice. “Thank you,” I said softly, hating how small I sounded.

“Don’t thank me,” he replied flatly. “I’ve never seen the point in verbal gratitude. Real gratitude is shown through actions, not words.” He gestured toward a small bowl near the door. “Th

to leave. Or stay. Your choice.”

there if you decide

Devon’s POV

I stepped into my private elevator, Marcus following behind me. The weight of Aria’s presence in my penthouse lingered in my mind. Her face had drained of color at the mention of arson. She’d tried to hide it, but I noticed her hand gripping the doorframe to keep herself upright.

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The CEO’s Midnight Remedy