The CEO's Midnight Remedy novel Chapter 288

Chapter 288

Devon’s POV

51

“As you can see from the projection models, Kane Technology stands to increase market penetration by twenty–eight percent with this

strategic acquisition.” I swept my gaze across the boardroom table, noting the mixture of approval and skepticism on the directors‘ faces.

Quarterly strategy meetings always brought out the sharks–even within our own company.

I clicked to the next slide in my presentation. “The synergy with our existing portfolio would create immediate value, particularly in the

Marcus appeared at my side, his expression tightly controlled as he discreetly extended my phone. The screen displayed a single name:

Aria Harper.

“Excuse me,” I murmured, irritation flickering beneath my professional demeanor. I never took calls during board meetings. Everyone

knew that. “Please continue reviewing the data on page seven. I’ll explain the implications momentarily.”

I stepped away from the table, pressing the phone to my ear. “This had better be important.”

Instead of Aria’s voice, I heard a man’s cold, professional tone: “That won’t be necessary,” he said, followed by what sounded like a phone

being pocketed. “This won’t take long.”

Then muffled sounds of movement and Aria’s voice in the background, tense and argumentative.

The temperature of my blood dropped several degrees. My fingers tightened around the phone as I processed the implications in a

fraction of a second.

“Who is this?” I demanded, but the line went dead.

I didn’t hesitate. “Meeting adjourned. Marcus, is the car ready?”

The boardroom erupted in murmurs of surprise and displeasure. My father looked up from his notes, his expression hardening into familiar disapproval.

“You cannot simply walk out on a board meeting, Devon!” Ilis voice carried the weight of decades of authority that had bent countless

others to his will.

I turned back, meeting his gaze with ice in mine. “I can. I just did.”

Without waiting for a response, I strode toward the elevator, Marcus falling into step beside me. “Track her phone. And get me the security footage from the bistro across from my building.”

“Already done, sir,” Marcus replied. “The GPS shows her moving toward the Upper East Side. And the car is waiting downstairs.”

1/3

16:56 Wed, Jan 7 d.

Chapter 288

As the elevator doors closed, cutting off the boardroom’s commotion, I allowed myself one moment of unchecked emotion–fury mixed with something dangerously close to fear. Someone had taken Aria. Someone would pay for that mistake.

51

The leather seat of my Maybach felt cold against my palms as I clenched my fists, willing the driver to move faster through Manhattan’s congested streets. There was only one person who would dare to interfere this way.

Mother.

Aria’s POV

The leather seat of the black sedan felt cold beneath my fingertips as I tried to steady my breathing. Through tinted windows, I glimpsed the passing city, transforming from the bustling commercial district into tree–lined avenues of old wealth. My phone buzzed in my purse, but one of the men had positioned himself between me and my belongings.

“Where are you taking me?” I asked, striving to keep my voice level despite my racing pulse.

“The madam wishes to speak with you, Ms. Harper,” the driver replied, his tone professionally detached. “We’re almost there.”

I fought to suppress the rising panic. These men were too professional to be random kidnappers. Their suits, their mannerisms, the coordinated way they’d extracted me from the bistro–this was an organized operation. My mind flashed to Devon’s warning to stay in the penthouse, which I’d foolishly ignored for thirty minutes of fresh air.

The car slowed as we approached an imposing brownstone mansion. Georgian architecture, meticulously maintained grounds–this was money, the kind that didn’t need to announce itself.

“This way, please,” the lead man said, opening my door.

I stepped out, considering my options. Running seemed futile–I was outnumbered, and my twisted ankle from last night’s attack still ached beneath my heels. Better to face whatever awaited me with dignity intact.

old

A butler greeted us at the door, his expression betraying nothing as he led me through the marble–floored entryway. The interior was a study in understated opulence–antique furniture, original oil paintings, crystal chandeliers that had likely witnessed decades of high-

society gatherings.

“This way, Ms. Harper,” he said, guiding me through a set of intricately carved oak doors that opened onto a sunlit garden terrace.

A woman sat at a wrought–iron table, her silver–streaked dark hair swept into an elegant chignon. She wore a tailored Chanel suit in navy blue, a strand of perfect pearls gleaming at her throat. Even before she turned to face me, I knew who she was–the resemblance to Devon was unmistakable in the sharp angles of her face and the penetrating gray oyes.

2/3