The CEO's Midnight Remedy novel Chapter 8

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

**Chapter 8**

**Aria’s POV**

A shift occurred within me, a sudden snap that echoed through my entire being. Perhaps it was the relentless stress that had accumulated over the course of the day, or maybe it was simply the last fragile thread of my patience finally giving way. Whatever the reason, I found myself resolutely finished with the façade of politeness.

“Listen closely,” I said, my voice dropping to a low yet unmistakably clear tone, ensuring that even his friends, who were watching with amused smirks, couldn’t miss my words. “What I choose to wear is not an open invitation. It does not signify my availability nor does it serve as a commentary on what I might be ‘seeking.’ It’s merely fabric draped over my body, which, by the way, does not require your approval or attention.”

The man’s smile wavered for a fleeting moment, but he quickly masked his surprise. “No need to be a bitch about it,” he retorted, a hint of irritation creeping into his voice.

“And there it is,” I pressed on, feeling an unexpected surge of satisfaction at my own boldness. “When a woman rebuffs your advances, she’s labeled a ‘bitch.’ Have you ever paused to consider that perhaps—just perhaps—it’s your approach that’s the issue? Did your mother fail to teach you the art of respecting women, or were you raised under the delusion that we exist solely for your amusement?”

By this point, several other passengers had turned their attention to our exchange. I noticed someone discreetly holding up a phone, likely capturing the moment for posterity. Fantastic. Just what I needed—becoming an internet sensation for a subway altercation after the tumultuous day I’d endured. Yet, I couldn’t rein in my words.

“The next time a woman expresses her disinterest, how about trying ‘Sorry to bother you’ and walking away? It’s really not that complicated.”

The man muttered something inaudible under his breath before retreating to his group of friends, who suddenly found the advertisements plastered on the subway walls to be of great interest. When my stop finally arrived, I stood tall, exiting the train with my head held high, dismissing the whispers that trailed behind me like shadows.

It wasn’t until I stepped into the sanctuary of my Brooklyn apartment that I allowed myself to let out a long, deep breath, releasing the tension that had been coiling inside me. I kicked off my heels, feeling a wave of relief wash over me as they clattered to the floor of the entryway. Without a moment’s hesitation, I made a beeline for the freezer, seeking the cool comfort of an ice pack against the throbbing ache on the right side of my face—an unwelcome reminder of my father’s earlier slap.

I pressed the ice pack to my cheek and collapsed onto the couch, too drained to muster the energy to make it to my bedroom. Almost immediately, my phone buzzed to life. I glanced at the screen—my father. For a brief, reckless moment, I considered letting it ring, but a masochistic impulse compelled me to hit the accept button.

“What?” I replied, my tone flat and devoid of warmth.

“Aria.” His voice was surprisingly soft, a stark contrast to the anger I had expected. “I want to apologize for my behavior this afternoon.”

I remained silent, allowing the weight of my father’s words to hang in the air. William Harper didn’t apologize unless he had a hidden agenda.

“I lost control,” he continued, his tone now tinged with an unusual sincerity. “It was inappropriate, and I’m truly sorry.”

“Is that all?” I probed, fully aware that there was more to this conversation than mere contrition.

A brief silence followed. “How are you? Did you get home safely?” he asked, his voice laced with a hint of concern that I found hard to believe.

“Why do you care?” I shot back, my voice icy.

“Despite what you think, Aria, you’re still my daughter. I worry about you.”

“That’s rich,” I scoffed, a bitter laugh escaping my lips. “You have a unique way of showing concern.”

Another pause stretched out, longer this time, filled with unspoken tension. “There’s something we need to discuss. Your mother’s key.”

And there it was—the true reason for his call.

“What about it?” I inquired cautiously, my heart racing.

“I’d like you to bring it to me,” he said, his tone shifting to a commanding one. “It’s caused enough problems in this family.”

“It’s mine,” I asserted firmly. “Mom left it to me with specific instructions.”

I sighed, sinking back into the embrace of my couch. “It’s not your fault.”

“He’s confused, Aria. He made a terrible mistake with Scarlett. He swears it was a one-time thing.”

“Marianne, please,” I said quietly, my voice barely above a whisper. “I can’t handle this right now.”

“I understand, dear.” She paused, and I could sense the weight of her thoughts. “I also called because… well, I realized what tomorrow is. Five years since we lost Elizabeth.”

My throat tightened painfully. In the chaos of the past few days, I had nearly forgotten that tomorrow marked the anniversary of my mother’s death.

“I was wondering if you’d like to visit the cemetery with me,” Marianne continued softly. “Elizabeth would want us to be together on this day.”

Despite the fatigue that clung to me like a heavy blanket, I couldn’t decline her invitation. “Of course. What time works for you?”

“Would three o’clock be alright? I could pick you up.”

“I’ll meet you at your house,” I suggested, not wanting to burden Marianne with the trip to Brooklyn. “How about two-thirty?”

“Perfect,” she replied gently. “Try to get some rest, Aria. Elizabeth would be so proud of the woman you’ve become.”

As I hung up, a wave of uncertainty washed over me. I wasn’t so sure my mother would be proud. I had tangled my life into a chaotic mess—my relationships, my business, and now I was beginning to question if my quest for revenge against Ethan had been worth it. The only certainty I held was that I needed to salvage what remained of my professional life.

I sank into a restless sleep, still clad in my red dress, too exhausted to even change into something more comfortable.