The CEO’s Midnight Remedy
Chapter 321
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His arms immediately tightened around me, his eyes sharpening. The change was immediate–from gentle to alarmed in a heartbeat. No. The word was simple but carried unmistakable authority and something else–fear?
“We have an arrangement, but that doesn’t mean I have to live here,” I countered, turning to face him. “I have my own life, my own space.”
Devon’s expression shifted, something vulnerable flickering across his features. The mask of control slipped momentarily. ‘I can’t sleep.” he admitted quietly, the words sounding as though they were pulled from him against his will.
“What?”
“Without you here, I can’t sleep.” Irritation colored his voice, as though admitting this weakness angered him. His jaw tightened. “You’ve forgotten, haven’t you, Aria?”
Before I could respond, his lips claimed mine in a demanding kiss that felt like both a punishment and a plea. When he finally pulled
away, his composure had returned, walls rebuilt as if they’d never fallen.
“We’re having breakfast out this morning,” he announced decisively. “It’s time New York saw us together.”
The next morning, I stood in Devon’s massive closet, running my fingers over designer clothes–all purchased for me, each perfectly
tailored to my measurements and taste. I selected a cream suit dress with nude heels, examining myself in the mirror. The diamond
necklace glittered at my collarbone, beautiful but somehow wrong, like it belonged to someone else.
Whatever Devon’s motives were, I couldn’t deny his generosity. The question was, what did he really want from me? And who was the
woman with the ruby necklace?
“Are you ready?” Devon called from outside, impatience edging his tone.
“Almost,” I replied, spraying a hint of perfume on my wrists, armor for whatever the day might bring.
In the Bentley, Devon focused on emails, occasionally frowning at his screen. His fingers moved rapidly across his phone. I studied his profile, noticing the fatigue beneath his usually cold demeanor. The shadows under his eyes seemed darker today. I remembered his confession about sleeping only when I was near, and felt a strange twist in my chest–concern mixed with a power I hadn’t realized I held.
“You seem busy,” I ventured. “We could have breakfast another day if you need to handle work.”
Devon looked up, his gray eyes meeting mine directly. Something shifted in them–gratitude, perhaps? He placed his phone into his suit’s inner pocket. “Work is never finished, but I won’t cancel our time together for it.”
At Eleven Madison Park, we were escorted to a semi–private area with views of Madison Square Park. The table was already set with an exquisite breakfast–truffle scrambled eggs, wild blueberry pancakes, fresh fruit, and handcrafted croissants, alongside two glasses of orange juice.
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Chapter 321
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“Eat whatever you like. Devon said, naturally pulling out my chair, his hand brushing my back in a gesture that felt oddly possessive and protective simultaneously.
I smiled weakly, my stomach knotted from the photo Calvin had sent. The image of Devon’s gentle hands fastening the ruby necklace kept replaying in my mind. I managed only a small sip of orange juice, then pushed food around my plate with a fork.
Devon noticed immediately. “You usually eat more at this hour.” His eyes narrowed slightly, assessing me with the same intensity he applied to business problems.
“Just… work stress, I lied, unable to meet his gaze.
After breakfast, Devon’s phone rang. He glanced at the screen, his expression turning serious.
“I need to handle this,” he said, genuine regret in his voice. “There’s a system issue at the company. Lucas will take you back to your
office.”
He stood, leaning down to press a kiss to my forehead, his hand lingering on my shoulder. “I’ll pick you up tonight. Don’t let anyone else take you anywhere, understand?
I nodded, watching his retreating figure, tall and commanding as he strode away. As I waited for the car, a woman approached–tall, elegant, with chestnut hair and calculating eyes.
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Lucia Morh is a passionate storyteller who brings emotions to life through her words. When she’s not writing, she finds peace nurturing her garden.

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