The CEO's Midnight Remedy novel Chapter 151

Chapter 151

Aria’s POV

Devon’s arms tightened around me as we exited Le Bernardin, his strides purposeful and hurried. The

evening air hit my face, a stark contrast to the warmth of his chest against my cheek. His jaw was clenched tight, the muscle there twitching under perfectly smooth skin. I’d never seen him this… unsettled before.

“You don’t have to carry me,” I whispered, painfully aware of the curious glances from passersby. “I can

walk.”

“Just be quiet,” he muttered, his voice a low rumble against my ear. “For once in your life, Harper, don’t

argue.”

The pain in my wrist flared as his pace quickened, and I couldn’t suppress a small whimper. “Devon,

please… walk slower. It hurts.”

He immediately slowed his steps, looking down at me with an unreadable expression. “If you weren’t so

determined to play hero, you wouldn’t be in this mess.”

“That was a reflex,” I defended myself, wincing as another wave of pain shot through my arm. “I saw her

falling and pulled her back. I didn’t exactly plan to tumble down marble stairs.”

Something in his expression softened, just slightly, before Marcus pulled the Bentley to the curb.

Just as Devon was about to place me in the back seat, I heard the click–clack of hurried heels behind us.

“Aria, wait!” Sophia’s breathless voice called out. “I need to come with you!”

Devon cast her a cold glance, but I raised my uninjured hand to stop whatever dismissal was forming on

his lips.

“Let her come,” I said quietly. “This wasn’t her fault.”

Once inside, Sophia gently examined my arm, her face paling at the three deep scrapes and the unnatural

angle of my wrist. “Oh God, I’m so sorry, Aria,” she whispered, her eyes glistening.

“It’s fine,” I lied through gritted teeth, forcing a smile. Just a sprain, probably.”

Devon’s gaze flickered between us in the rearview mirror, his expression inscrutable.

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The hospital lobby was all gleaming marble and crystal chandeliers, no doubt the most exclusive medical

facility in Manhattan. Devon carried me straight past the line of waiting patients, their whispers following

us like a wave.

“Everyone’s staring, I murmured against his chest, mortified.

“Let them,” he replied, approaching the front desk with the same authority he wielded in boardrooms. “I

need Dr. Phillips. Now.”

A distinguished man in a tailored suit appeared almost immediately. “Mr. Kane, we’ve prepared the VIP

suite. Please, follow me.”

The examining room was more like a luxury hotel suite than a hospital room. Devon reluctantly set me

down on the examination table, standing back only when the doctor began to inspect my injuries.

“We’ll need X–rays,” Dr. Phillips announced after a thorough examination. “And possibly an MRI to rule out

any soft tissue damage.”

Devon nodded without hesitation. “Do whatever is necessary. Don’t miss anything.”

When Devon stepped out to speak with the doctor, Sophia closed the door softly behind him and turned to

me, her expression curious.

“So sweet,” she whispered, a small smile playing on her lips. “You two are actually dating, aren’t you?”

I adjusted the hospital gown with my good hand, forcing a smile. “No… he’s just my ‘sponsor‘ right now.”

Sophia’s expression turned serious. “You’re not doing this to get back at Ethan, are you? Because that’s

dangerous, Aria. Men like Devon Kane don’t play games they can’t win.”

“It’s mutually beneficial,” I said flatly, though my eyes hardened at the mention of Ethan. “Love is just a

tool men use to control women. I won’t fall for that again.”

“I worry about you,” Sophia said, taking my hand. “A man like that…”

The door creaked slightly. I looked up, my words dying in my throat as I saw Devon standing in the

doorway. His gray eyes, usually so controlled, now darkened with something I couldn’t quite name. His

shoulders tensed, his knuckles white as he gripped the doorframe. The slight twitch at the corner of his

mouth betrayed the careful mask of indifference he tried to maintain.

My heart hammered against my ribs. How long had he been standing there? What exactly had he heard?

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The look in his eyes–had it been hurt before coldness replaced it? No, impossible. Men like Devon Kane didn’t get hurt; they calculated losses.