The CEO's Midnight Remedy novel Chapter 13

**Dust Writes New Stories by Rei Holt Wilder**

The woman in red regarded me with a saccharine smile that dripped with insincerity. “Are you his secretary?” she inquired, her tone dripping with mockery.

I forced a polite smile, though inside I felt a surge of irritation. “Aria Harper, CEO of Stellar Impressions,” I introduced myself, trying to maintain a professional demeanor despite the condescending undertone.

“Oh, how adorable,” she cooed, her voice laced with a false sweetness that made my skin crawl. She then pivoted her attention to Devon, her eyes sparkling with a predatory gleam. “Baby, we were discussing the yacht for next weekend, remember?”

Devon, however, seemed entirely unfazed by her charm. His gaze remained locked on me, ignoring her presence as if she were nothing more than a passing shadow. “Sit,” he commanded, gesturing toward the booth across from him with an air of authority that brooked no argument.

I slid into the booth, placing my portfolio on the table with a soft thud. “As I was saying, I’ve revised the proposal to—”

“I’m not interested in your proposal right now,” Devon interrupted, his tone clipped and dismissive. “I’m more intrigued by your decision to track me down at my private club. What made you think that was appropriate?”

Christopher, the ever-attentive server, returned with my whiskey, setting it down before me with a flourish. “Enjoy,” he said, giving me a wink that felt oddly reassuring before he melted back into the throng of patrons.

“You’ve been avoiding my calls and emails,” I pressed, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside me. “My company needs an answer on this contract.”

Devon leaned back slightly, his expression cold and calculating. “Perhaps I’ve been avoiding you because our last interaction made it abundantly clear that you use business as a cover for personal agendas,” he retorted, his words sharp enough to cut.

The woman in red perked up at this exchange, her interest piqued as she darted her gaze between us like a spectator at a tennis match. “Oh? Is there some history here?” she asked, her curiosity evident.

Heat rushed to my cheeks, and I shook my head vehemently. “There’s no history. Just a business relationship that got off on the wrong foot,” I asserted, trying to keep my voice steady.

“Is that what we’re calling it now?” Devon’s voice dripped with a silky menace as he leaned forward, his eyes boring into mine with an intensity that made my heart race. “Drink your whiskey, Ms. Harper.”

It was not a request; it felt more like a command. I reached for the glass, the amber liquid glimmering in the dim light of the club. “Mr. Kane, I understand you have reservations, but—”

“Drink,” he repeated, his tone leaving no room for negotiation. “If you want me to even consider glancing at your proposal, show me you can let go of that rigid exterior first.”

The woman in red’s smile widened, clearly reveling in my discomfort. She leaned forward, reaching for a bottle on the table and pouring another glass, sliding it toward me with a flourish. “Since you’re so… thirsty for a contract.”

Devon’s expression remained inscrutable as he observed me, his gaze unwavering.

I knew that Stellar Impressions needed this contract desperately. Sophia’s mother was in dire need of surgery, and my employees relied on their paychecks to survive. It was a cruel test, but a test nonetheless. Desperation clashed with pride in my chest as I realized how much was riding on this moment.

With a steady hand, I lifted the first whiskey to my lips, taking a deliberate sip while maintaining eye contact with Devon. The expensive liquor burned smoothly down my throat, igniting a warmth that spread through me. I set the glass down carefully, reached for the second one, and repeated the process, never breaking his gaze.

A flicker of surprise—or perhaps reluctant approval—crossed Devon’s face, and I felt a flicker of triumph at that subtle shift.

“Aria!” he exclaimed, striding toward our table with determination. “What the hell are you doing here? With him?”

Devon leaned back in his seat, an amused glint flickering in his eyes. “Mr. Blake. How unexpected,” he replied, his voice smooth and unruffled.

“Stay out of this, Mr. Kane,” Ethan snapped, turning his full attention to me. “You said you had a business meeting. This doesn’t look like business to me.”

I stood up abruptly, feeling the alcohol hit me as I rose too quickly. “Ethan, you need to leave. Now.”

“Not without you,” he insisted, gripping my arm with a fierceness that made my heart race. “I don’t know what game you’re playing, but it’s gone far enough.”

Devon remained unmoved in his seat, but his voice sliced through the tension like a knife. “I believe Ms. Harper asked you to leave, Blake. Or would you prefer my security to escort you out? I understand you’re familiar with being thrown out of establishments.”

Ethan’s face flushed with anger, his eyes narrowing. “You think I don’t see what you’re doing? Using her company’s vulnerability to lure her into your bed? It’s pathetic.”

“Ethan!” I hissed, mortified by his accusation. “This is a business meeting that you’re interrupting. Again.”

“Really?” He gestured toward the empty glasses littering the table. “What kind of business requires three whiskeys?”

Finally, Devon rose to his full height, his presence commanding the space like a storm. “Ms. Harper, perhaps you should address your personal matters before attempting to discuss business. We can reschedule once you’ve sorted out this… situation.”