The CEO's Midnight Remedy novel Chapter 313

Aria’s POV

Devon’s eyes met mine, something unreadable flickering in their gray depths. For once, I thought I glimpsed vulnerability beneath his perfect façade–a momentary crack that disappeared so quickly I might have imagined it.

This is the alcohol talking,” he said, his voice low and controlled.

I shook my head, my hair falling across my face. “No. Alcohol just… removes the alter. These thoughts are always there.”

He remained perfectly still as I continued tracing the contours of his face with clumsy fingers. The movie credits rolled in the background, casting shifting shadows across the room.

“You should rest,” he said finally, catching my wrist gently.

“Everyone leaves me, I murmured, feeling tears prick behind my eyes. “My mother died. My father chose Victoria and Scarlett. Ethan betrayed me. Even Sophia has her own life. Nobody really wants me.”

Before I realized what was happening, Devon leaned forward and pressed his lips to mine. The kiss was different from our previous encounters–gentler, almost hesitant. When he pulled back, his expression was composed once more, but something in his eyes had changed.

“This was your doing,” he said quietly.

I didn’t have time to respond before he stood, lifting me effortlessly into his arm My head spun from the combination of alcohol and his proximity. I pressed my face against his chest, inhaling his cologne as he carried me up the stairs.

‘Devon,” I whispered as he laid me on his best. Im so tired of being strong all the time.”

He stood looking down at me, as silhouette tall and imposing against the bedroom’s dim lighting. For a moment, I thought he would leave, but instead, he sat beside me, drawing me against him.

‘Sleep,‘ he said, his voice a command and confort all at once. ‘I’m bere.”

I closed my eyes, feeling safer than I had in years, and drifted into darkness.

Morning arrived with merciless brightness and a pounding headache. I groaned, pressing my palms against my temples before realizing I wasn’t alone. Devon lay beside me, already awake, watching me with that wanering intensity of his.

Memory flooded back in fragmented pieces: the whiskey, the movie, my embarrassing confession. I sat up too quickly, wincing at the pain that shot through my skull.

How are you feeling? Devon asked, his voice neutral.

Like I’ve been hit by a truck, 1 muttered, scanning myself and noting with relief that I was still fully clothed.

“How much do you remember? His question seemed casual, but his eyes were watchful.

I avoided his gate, mortification creeping up my neck. “Bits and pieces. Did L… say something inappropriate?”

The corner of his mouth lifted slightly. You were quite forthcoming Apparently really bandwane, and you were curious about my momvations for

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Chapter 313

I groaned again, burying my face in my hands. Can we pretend that never happened?

What about the kiss? His tone remained conversational, but there was something underneath it I couldn’t identify.

I peeked through my fingers. “Kiss?”

“So you don’t remember. He sat up, straightening his shirt. “You practically attached me, and now you’re conveniently forgetting. How typical.”

I did not attack you,” I protested, though I couldn’t actually be sure.

I have the lip marks to prove it,” he said, standing. ‘Now, are you hungry?”

The abrupt change of subject left me dizzy. Or maybe that was the hangover. “Starving, actually.”

“Get dressed. I know a place.”

The restaurant Devon chose was hidden behind an unmarked door in a nondescript building, revealing an opulent interior that only New York’s elite would know existed. The maitre d’ led us to a secluded corner table with practiced deference.

Devon ordered for both of us in fluent Italian, and I was too exhausted to protest. We ate in companionable silence until his phone vibrated. His expression changed as he read the message, becoming remote and businesslike.

‘I need to go,’ he said, already signaling for the check. Something’s come up.”

‘Is everything okay?”

“It’s nothing that concerns you.” tote was dismissive. “Take your time finishing. You can get a cab back to the apartment.”

I watched him leave, wondering if last night’s glimpse of warmth had been nothing but alcohol–induced imagination. His words echoed in my mind: “Nothing that concerns you.” Of course mut. Whatever we had was transactional, not emotional

As I sipped my espresso alone, Mandy’s words from weeks ago floated back to me a woman who means a great deal to him. The thought left a bitter taste that had nothing to do with the coffice.

Back at Harper Group the next day, I found my desk piled with new business folders, Sophia burst into my office, her expression brighter than I’d seen in

weeks.

“You won’t believe what happened,” she said, perching on the edge of my desk. Red Group called. They want us to handle their new product launch. And three major fashion brands contacted us this morning for quotes. Our inbox is flooded with inquiries.”

I flipped through the folders, recognizing names of companies that had previously dismissed us. “This is… unexpected.”

“I know, right? It’s like someone waved a magic wand.” Sophia tilted her head. The weird thing is, every single one of these new clients has some connection to Kane Technology Direct investment, board membership, something

I stared at the contracts, pieces clicking into place. Devon had done this–used his influence to drive business our way. While I’d been wallowing in whiskey and self–pity, he been securing our company’s future,

sy would be due the 1 mazmazed, those to myself than Sophia.

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