The CEO's Midnight Remedy novel Chapter 44

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

**Chapter 44**

Tox and I were navigating the complex dynamics of our relationship, both of us asserting our dominance in ways that sometimes led to unexpected agreements. It was during one of those moments that he finally pulled me closer, and I felt the familiar tension between us.

As Tox and I settled into the plush seats of the Batinum, he wore a contemplative expression, uncertain about whether our collaboration was truly yielding results. I sensed the weight of that uncertainty, a blessing and a curse, as I tried to envision the future.

He turned to me, his gaze piercing yet warm.

“Thanks for your insights,” I called after him, my voice light and teasing, trying to cut through the seriousness of the moment.

Dean’s laughter echoed through the room, a sound that brightened the atmosphere, even as he prepared to leave. “Don’t be late, alright?” With that, he stepped out, the door closing behind him, leaving me in the fading light of the office.

I sank back against the soft pillows of the couch with a long, weary sigh. This business relationship was becoming increasingly convoluted, and I was acutely aware of how much I craved to maintain a certain distance, even as my feelings began to blur the lines.

When I finally pushed through the glass doors of Stellar Impressions, a vibrant design studio buzzing with activity, I was greeted by the hum of creativity. Several designers were hunched over their sketches, their heads nodding in acknowledgment as I passed. My office, with its sleek glass walls, allowed me to keep an eye on the entire studio, a constant reminder of the collaborative energy that surrounded me.

I had barely settled into my chair when Sophia breezed in, her arms loaded with two steaming coffee cups. “Punishment for being late, I presume? Your signature caramel latte,” she said with a playful grin, placing one cup before me. “And I heard you had quite the night with Kate last night.”

I accepted the coffee, trying to read her curious gaze. “Oh, we discussed some… interesting matters,” I replied, my mind racing to find the right words.

Sophia plopped down in the chair opposite me, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Interesting, huh? You look like you barely slept a wink.”

The pressure of looming project deadlines weighed heavily on my mind, and I felt the need to divert the conversation. “It’s been hectic. We talked about the upcoming project, and it’s definitely more challenging than I anticipated.”

“Really?” she leaned in, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “Then why do your lips look like they’ve been in a fight?”

I instinctively touched my lips, realizing they did feel slightly swollen. I met Sophia’s inquisitive gaze, a mix of embarrassment and intrigue washing over me.

“Nothing to worry about, just had a run-in with a rather fanciful beast,” I joked, attempting to keep the mood light.

Sophia gave me a knowing smile. “Sounds like your business meeting was quite intense. Just be careful, Aria. Don’t lose yourself in the chaos of business and pleasure.”

“I know what I’m doing, don’t worry,” I waved her off, eager to steer the conversation back to work. “Now, about the Base Hand promotion plan—how’s that coming along?”

Sophia rolled her eyes dramatically but quickly shifted into work mode. “The initial draft is complete, but it’s lacking that spark of innovation. By the way, I heard the Blake family is planning a fashion showcase—perfect timing for us to promote our creative work.”

I nodded, though my mind wandered back to last night in Devon’s arms. The rush of feeling completely enveloped by him was both exhilarating and frightening. I wasn’t sure where this relationship would lead, but for now, I resolved to take it one day at a time.

At lunchtime, I informed Sophia that I had a personal appointment and made my way to Antler Coffee in Brooklyn. This cozy café, hidden away on a side street few tourists ever stumbled upon, was the ideal setting for discreet meetings.

As the bell jingled above me when I entered, I was greeted by the warm, inviting atmosphere. Dim lighting cast a soft glow over a few hipsters engrossed in their laptops. In the corner, a middle-aged man in a gray trench coat flipped through a magazine—Garrett, the private investigator Ryan had recommended.

I approached him, my heart racing slightly. “Mr. Garrett?”

He looked up, his brown eyes sharp and assessing. “Ms. Harper, right on time.”

“Do you have results?” I asked, my voice steady as I slid an envelope across the table.

Garrett pocketed the envelope with a casual air and then retrieved a folder from his briefcase. “Preliminary findings here.”

As he opened the folder, my heartbeat quickened at the sight of the first photograph. It depicted a younger William Harper with Victoria, the timestamp indicating it was taken during my mother Elizabeth’s tenure at the gallery. Their body language was intimate—Victoria’s hand resting on my father’s chest, his hand resting possessively on her waist.

“Where was this taken?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Sophia nodded knowingly. “Of course. Need me to call you with an emergency? You know, the classic urgent situation rescue?”

“Thanks, but I need to face this,” I forced a smile, trying to project confidence. “For the company and the contract.”

The elevator doors opened to reveal Ethan standing in the lobby, holding an enormous bouquet of red roses. He looked like he had stepped off a fashion magazine cover, exuding charm. Employees glanced curiously—exactly the kind of public display of affection Ethan thrived on.

“Aria, you look stunning today,” he said, stepping forward to hand me the roses and placing a gentle kiss on my cheek.

I offered a polite smile, accepting the flowers. “Thank you, this is… unexpected.”

“I’ve reserved a table at La Belle, hoping you’ll enjoy some exquisite French cuisine,” he said with confidence.

As Ethan leaned closer, I caught sight of red marks peeking above his shirt collar—evidence of “quality time” spent with someone else. I stifled a scoff, maintaining my pleasant expression.

“Sounds lovely,” I replied, placing the roses at the reception desk. I cast a meaningful glance at Sophia. “Could you put these in my office?”

Sophia nodded, her eyes filled with disdain for Ethan.

Ethan led me to his silver Mercedes convertible, opening the door with a flourish. La Belle, an upscale restaurant nestled in the Upper East Side, was renowned for its exquisite French cuisine and romantic ambiance—a favorite haunt for New York’s elite.

Throughout dinner, Ethan rambled on about his work and recent social engagements while I half-listened, my mind wandering to Devon. I checked my phone periodically, hoping for a message from him, but even as dessert arrived, my phone remained silent.

“How about Blue Sapphire?” Ethan suddenly suggested. “Some friends are gathering there, and they’d love to see you.”

I hesitated, nearly declining, but then realized this could be an opportunity to gather more evidence about Ethan and Scarlett. “Sure, why not?” I agreed, steeling myself for whatever revelations the night might bring.