The CEO's Rejected Wife And Secret Heir novel Chapter 11

Chapter 11: Chapter 11 – Ice Queen Aria

Aria POV

The breakfast meeting was at seven AM in the hotel’s private dining room.

I arrived at six forty-five, because I was never late.

Six other CEOs were already there, including Martin Ross from Ross Industries and Jennifer Park from Park Enterprises. They were all power players, all of them.

And at the head of the table, because of course he was, sat Damien Blackwood.

Our eyes met across the room.

I felt nothing. I’d made sure of that.

"Ms. Monroe." Martin stood, extending his hand with genuine warmth in his eyes. "We’re honored you could join us."

I shook it, my smile professional. "Mr. Ross. Thank you for the invitation."

I took the seat at the opposite end of the table from Damien. As far away as possible while still being in the same room.

He watched me the entire time, his gaze heavy and unrelenting.

The waiter poured coffee with practiced silence. I took mine black, the same way I took my revenge.

Jennifer opened her tablet with a crisp tap of perfectly manicured nails. "Let’s get started. The Riverside Development deal."

"Is off the table," I interrupted smoothly, my voice carrying just enough edge to cut through her sentence. "Monroe Global acquired it yesterday evening."

Martin’s eyebrows rose in genuine surprise. "I was under the impression Blackwood Enterprises."

"Was too slow," I finished, meeting Damien’s gaze across the table with a challenge. "The development firm wanted innovation and speed. We offered both."

Damien’s jaw tightened visibly, a muscle jumping beneath his skin, but his voice remained controlled when he spoke. "That was our deal, Ms. Monroe."

"Correction." I smiled sharply. "It was available to the highest bidder. I simply bid smarter."

Jennifer looked between us, clearly sensing the tension. "Well. Congratulations, Ms. Monroe."

The meeting continued, but I felt Damien’s eyes on me constantly, burning into my skin.

Discussions about market shares. Potential partnerships. Competition strategies.

Every time he tried to speak to me directly, I redirected to someone else.

"Ms. Monroe, perhaps Blackwood and Monroe Global could." Martin began tentatively.

"I prefer to keep my company independent, Mr. Ross." I didn’t even look at Damien, keeping my attention fixed on Martin’s confused face. "We’re not interested in partnerships at this time."

After an hour, people started leaving for other meetings, gathering their things with rustling papers and quiet farewells.

Damien stood as I gathered my things with deliberate slowness.

"Aria." His voice was rough with emotion. "Please. We need to talk."

I looked up at him, my expression. "About what, Mr. Blackwood?"

"Don’t." He moved closer, and I saw the shadows under his eyes. "Don’t pretend you don’t know me."

"But I don’t." I stood, meeting his gaze steadily without flinching. "I knew a man named Damien Blackwood once. Briefly. He was cruel and cold and not worth remembering." I adjusted my bag on my shoulder with practiced ease. "You might share his name, but that doesn’t make you important to me."

His face went pale, the color draining. "Aria, I know I hurt you"

"Hurt me?" I laughed, and the sound was hollow. "You didn’t hurt me, Mr. Blackwood. You freed me. I should probably thank you."

"I was wrong." The words came out rough against his throat. "About everything. Your family lied, and I believed them, and I."

"Made your choice." I finished. "And I made mine. I chose to survive. To build something better." I stepped past him toward the door, my heels clicking against marble. "Now if you’ll excuse me, I have actual business to attend to."

"Please." His hand caught my wrist, gentle but desperate, his fingers trembling slightly. "Just give me five minutes."

I looked down at his hand, then back up at his face.

For a moment, I saw the old Aria. The one who’d loved him despite everything. Who’d hoped he might someday look at her the way he was looking now.

Then I remembered the way he threw me out. The way he’d looked at me like I was trash.

I pulled my wrist free with a sharp jerk. "I don’t do business with has-beens, Mr. Blackwood. Monroe Global is moving forward. You’re welcome to stay in the past where you belong."

I walked out without looking back, my spine rigid with control.

My hands were shaking.

I made it to the elevator before the emotions hit. Anger. Satisfaction. Something that felt dangerously like grief threatening to split me open.

The doors opened with a soft chime as I stepped in.

And someone stepped in with me.

"That was brutal," a male voice said, impressed and slightly amused.

I turned sharply. A man in his thirties, handsome in an approachable way, with brown hair and warm green eyes. I’d seen him at the summit yesterday.

"Excuse me?" I kept my voice cool

He smiled, extending his hand with easy confidence. "Lucas Hayes. Hayes Technologies."

Recognition clicked into place. "The self-made billionaire."

"Former self-made millionaire," he corrected with a grin that crinkled the corners of his eyes. "The billionaire part is new." His handshake was firm. "I’ve been following Monroe Global’s rise. You’re impressive."

My phone buzzed in my hand. Lucas had sent his contact info with a simple message: Looking forward to it.

I typed back: See you at seven.

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