The CEO's Midnight Remedy novel Chapter 46

**Dust Writes New Stories by Rei Holt Wilder**
**Chapter 46**

**Aria’s POV**

I nudged the heavy door of Blue Sapphire open, stepping out into the cool embrace of the night air, a welcome relief from the stifling ambiance that had enveloped me inside. The thumping bass from the club faded into the background, a distant heartbeat that I was eager to escape. Wrapping my arms around myself, I felt vulnerable and exposed, reluctant to return to Ethan’s VIP section after the unsettling scene I had just witnessed. The thought of facing Devon in that private room—where he had looked right through me as though I were a mere ghost—made my stomach churn.

As I walked away, my phone buzzed insistently in my clutch. Ethan. A wave of indecision washed over me. I contemplated ignoring the call, but ultimately decided against it; maintaining the charade a little longer seemed the wiser choice.

“Hello?” I answered, intentionally allowing my voice to waver, feigning weakness.

“Aria? Where are you? I’ve been searching everywhere for you.” His tone held a subtle undercurrent of suspicion, masked by concern. “Did you just step out to the terrace? I spotted someone who looked an awful lot like you up there.”

My stomach twisted at his words. Was he testing me, probing to see if I had witnessed his private meeting with my stepsister? I struggled to keep my voice steady, forcing out a sickly tone instead of the disgust that bubbled within me.

“No, I… I’ve been in the bathroom. My stomach is acting up. I think I’m going to head home,” I replied, injecting just the right amount of discomfort into my voice.

“Do you want me to come and take you? I can—”

“No!” I interrupted, perhaps a bit too hastily. “No, it’s fine. You stay and enjoy your night. I’ll just grab an Uber.”

After ending the call, I positioned myself at the curb, fingers deftly tapping the app to request a ride. The streets of Manhattan were alive and bustling even at this late hour, yellow cabs and sleek luxury cars weaving through the traffic like a well-rehearsed dance. My mind was consumed by the image of Devon’s icy gaze, the way he had looked at me without a flicker of recognition, as if our bodies hadn’t been intimately entwined just the day before.

And Caroline. This was the second time I had seen her with him. Was she truly the woman his mother envisioned as his future bride? The thought shouldn’t gnaw at me, yet it did.

“What are you thinking, Aria?” I whispered to myself, shaking my head in disbelief. “It’s just a business arrangement. You literally asked him to act like he doesn’t know you in public.”

My thoughts scattered like leaves in the wind as a sleek black Porsche sped past, the rush of air sending my hair fluttering. In that fleeting moment, I caught a glimpse of the driver—Devon. My heart inexplicably leapt, only to plummet as the car accelerated away, disappearing around the corner without a hint of slowing down.

Of course he wouldn’t stop. Why would he?

So caught up in my thoughts, I nearly missed the silver Audi that pulled up beside me until the passenger window rolled down.

“Need a ride, Harper?” The familiar voice of Christopher Quinn broke through my reverie. His smile was warm, genuine, and felt oddly out of place in our usually superficial social circle.

I hesitated. Christopher was Devon’s friend, which complicated matters. Yet, with my Uber still seven minutes away and the night air growing chillier, I found myself weighing my options.

“That would be great, actually. Thank you.” I slipped into the passenger seat, the leather cool against my skin, a stark contrast to the warmth of my earlier discomfort.

Christopher smoothly merged into traffic, his driving confident but not aggressive like Ethan’s or Devon’s. An awkward silence enveloped us, broken only by the soft strains of jazz wafting through the car’s sound system, a soothing balm to my frayed nerves.

“So,” he finally ventured, “rough night?”

I managed a weak smile. “Is it that obvious?”

“Only to someone who’s been paying attention.” He stole a quick glance at me before refocusing on the road. “Don’t worry, your makeup’s still flawless. It’s more the look in your eyes that gives it away.”

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. “I didn’t realize you were so observant.”

He pulled up outside my building, the converted warehouse looking warm and inviting with its exposed brick façade and large windows, a sanctuary away from my father’s oppressive house.

“Thank you for the ride,” I said earnestly. “Would you like to come up for coffee? As a proper thank you.”

Christopher looked momentarily tempted, then shook his head. “Another time, perhaps. I’ve got an early meeting tomorrow.”

I nodded, feeling an odd mix of relief and disappointment. “Rain check, then.”

“Definitely,” he promised with a smile. “Get some rest, Aria.”

I watched as his car drove away, the familiar scent of old wood and fresh paint welcoming me home as I entered my building. Kicking off my heels, I headed straight for my desk, where a sealed manila envelope from Garrett, the private investigator, awaited my attention.

Just as I was about to open it, a sharp knock at my door jolted me. I wasn’t expecting anyone, especially not at this hour. Approaching cautiously, I peered through the peephole.

My heart nearly stopped. Devon Kane stood in my hallway, his expression thunderous.

I yanked the door open. “How do you know where I live?”

He didn’t respond, instead pushing past me into my apartment with the entitled confidence of someone accustomed to accessing any space they desired.

“By all means, come in,” I muttered sarcastically, shutting the door behind me.