The CEO's Midnight Remedy novel Chapter 47

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

**Chapter 47: The CEO’s Midnight Remedy**

**Aria’s POV**

Devon stood at the heart of my living room, a striking figure amidst the chaos of my eclectic decor. The late hour did nothing to mar his perfectly tailored suit, which remained immaculate, not a wrinkle in sight. He seemed both an intruder and a familiar presence, a contradiction that sent a shiver down my spine.

“I thought you said you and Ethan were over,” he finally broke the silence, his voice low and laced with a dangerous edge.

“We are,” I replied, crossing my arms in a defensive posture. “What you witnessed tonight was—”

“What I witnessed,” he interrupted, his tone sharp, “was you and Blake looking very much like a couple that had found their way back to each other.”

“It’s complicated,” I insisted, echoing the same words I had used earlier with Christopher, hoping it would suffice.

“Explain,” he demanded, his eyes boring into mine with an intensity that made my heart race.

I bristled at the authority in his voice. “I don’t owe you an explanation, Kane. Our arrangement is strictly professional, remember? With benefits that do not include exclusivity or the need for explanations.”

His jaw clenched, a flicker of frustration crossing his features. “You’re planning to marry him.”

“I’m not,” I started, but hesitated. “How did you know about that?”

“New York is smaller than you think,” he replied cryptically, his gaze unwavering. “When is this supposed engagement happening?”

I turned my gaze away, unable to meet his penetrating stare. “After our month is up. My father is insisting on the merger between Harper and Blake, and the engagement announcement is supposed to seal the deal.”

Devon stepped closer, his eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that made my pulse quicken. “And you’re just going along with this?”

“I have my reasons,” I stated carefully, trying to maintain my composure.

“Such as?” he pressed, his curiosity undeniable.

“Such as it’s none of your business,” I snapped, irritation flaring at his relentless questioning. “Why do you care anyway? Jealous, Mr. Kane?”

His expression darkened, and for a fleeting moment, I wondered if I had crossed a line. “I’m not jealous,” he replied, his voice cold and unyielding. “I simply dislike being lied to.”

“I never lied to you.”

“Omission is still a form of deception, Aria.”

“Fine,” I conceded, my frustration bubbling over. “I should have mentioned it. But it doesn’t change anything between us. Our arrangement stands until the end of the month, as agreed.”

Devon scrutinized me, his gray eyes filled with a mixture of emotions I couldn’t decipher. “Are you actually going to marry him?”

There was a tension in his voice that I couldn’t quite place. Was it possible that Devon Kane cared about who I chose to marry?

I felt a surge of defiance and couldn’t resist the urge to tease him. “Devon,” I said, deliberately softening my tone, “don’t tell me you’re actually starting to like me?”

His reaction was immediate and unexpected. In one swift movement, he closed the distance between us, his hand gripping my chin with a firm yet gentle touch, tilting my face upward to meet his gaze.

“You think this is a game?” he growled, his breath warm against my skin.

Before I could formulate a response, his lips crashed down on mine, the kiss fierce and demanding, more a punishment than a passionate embrace. Yet as his lips moved against mine, the anger morphed into something deeper—hunger, possession, an undeniable desire. His hands found their way to my waist, lifting me effortlessly as I instinctively wrapped my legs around him.

Moments later, a doctor—a kind-faced woman in her fifties—entered the room, her presence soothing amidst my turmoil. After a thorough examination and a series of questions that made me wish I could vanish, she prescribed medication for the severe cramps and advised rest.

“Your husband seems very concerned,” she remarked as she jotted down a prescription. “It’s good that he brought you in.”

I didn’t correct her assumption. It felt easier to let her believe that than to delve into the complicated reality of my relationship with Devon.

When the doctor left, I expected Devon to return, but minutes ticked by in silence, and he was still absent. Eventually, a nurse came in with discharge papers.

“Mr. Kane had to step out to handle some paperwork,” she explained gently. “He’s arranged for everything to be taken care of.”

Of course he had. Efficient as always, even when making his exit without a word. I shouldn’t have been surprised, yet a pang of disappointment pierced through me, sharper than I wanted to admit.

The medication began to take effect as I was shown to a private recovery room, the pain dulling to a manageable ache. Exhaustion washed over me, a heavy blanket of fatigue that pulled me under. As I drifted off, I thought I felt a hand brushing my hair away from my forehead, but it must have been a figment of my imagination or the onset of a dream.

In that dream, my mother sat beside me, her presence vibrant and beautiful, just as I remembered her before illness took its toll. Concern filled her eyes, a reflection of the love that had always enveloped me.

“Why, Aria?” she asked, her voice echoing strangely in the dreamscape. “Why would you let the woman who hurt me into our home? Into your life?”

I tried to respond, to articulate my thoughts, but no sound emerged. My mother’s face began to fade, replaced by Victoria’s smug smile, a haunting reminder of the past.

“Mom!” I gasped, jolting awake.

“Aria? Are you okay?”

It wasn’t my mother’s voice, nor was it Victoria’s. It was Sophia, sitting in a chair beside my bed, her face etched with worry.