Too Late Mr. White! I'm Married To Your Rival Now novel Chapter 59

Aria's POV

When Lucas called, I felt Aiden's entire body tense beneath me. The spell was broken.

"This better be important," he growled into the phone.

I slid awkwardly off his lap, adjusting my clothes with trembling fingers and trying to calm my racing heart. The windows of the Bentley had fogged slightly from our body heat, and I couldn't bring myself to look at Aiden directly.

His conversation with Lucas was brief and clipped. "I'll be there in twenty," he finally said before hanging up.

"Emergency at the office," he explained, already straightening his tie and rebuttoning his jacket."I need to go."

"Sure. Work's important," I mumbled, feeling oddly conflicted—part relief that we wouldn't have to immediately face what had just happened between us, part disappointment that he was leaving.

The ghost of his touch still lingered on my skin, making it hard to think clearly.

The drive back to his estate was silent and tense. I kept my eyes fixed on the scenery outside, my mind replaying what had just happened.

What was I doing? This wasn't supposed to be real. This wasn't part of our agreement.

When we finally reached my place, I hurried to unbuckle my seatbelt, desperate for escape. But before I could open the door, Aiden reached into his briefcase and pulled out a thick folder.

"This is for you," he said, his voice back to its usual businesslike tone. "Lucas compiled it. Should help you understand a few things about me."

I took the folder, immediately startled by its weight. "This feels like it's thirty or fifty pages!"

"Forty-eight," he corrected without missing a beat.

"Thank you," I managed, clutching it to my chest like some kind of shield. "I appreciate it."

He just nodded, already checking something on his phone. I scrambled out of the car, my legs still wobbly, and watched as the sleek Bentley disappeared down the street.

After eating a quick dinner I couldn't even taste, I settled on my couch and opened the folder.

The first three pages detailed his impressive life achievements. Harvard at 16, MBA by 20, five patents to his name before 25, and a list of business acquisitions that read like a who's who of global corporations

I suddenly felt very ordinary in comparison.

Maybe I should memorize some of these achievements for the inevitable social comparisons that would come my way as Mrs. Carter.

The fourth page transitioned to his food preferences, and I had to laugh. Two full pages dedicated to Aiden Carter's palette? Lucas was nothing if not thorough.

"Dislikes sweet, sour, spicy, and bitter foods. Prefers mild flavors." I frowned. "What does that even leave? No wonder he's so grumpy – he basically hates everything tasty."

I tapped my chin thoughtfully. "Most fruits are either sweet or sour... except maybe avocados? Is that what rich people eat to stay miserable?"

Page eight showcased his skills and talents: fluent in six languages, excellent at chess, piano virtuoso, champion swimmer, expert in three martial arts...

I noticed a path laid with pebbles leading to the left, while the right path headed toward the main gate. I guessed the pool must be to the left.

Following the small path for a bit, I walked past a flower bed before finally spotting the pool Aiden had mentioned.

It was an outdoor pool with coconut trees planted on both sides in neat rows. Under the trees sat sun umbrellas and loungers, while near the house stood a small cabana containing a wooden table with white cushions and matching benches.

There he was, cutting through the water with powerful, precise strokes. Moonlight danced across the surface, highlighting the elegant lines of his body.

His normally concealed legs were long and muscular, propelling him forward with startling grace. In the water, Aiden moved like some kind of predatory fish – all controlled power and fluid motion. The sight was mesmerizing, almost beautiful.

I stood silently at the edge, reluctant to interrupt such a private moment. But he'd already noticed me. After reaching the far end, he turned and swam back to where I stood, then paused at the pool's edge directly beneath my feet.

He removed his swimming cap, and his dark hair spread out in the water like ink, framing his face in a way that made him look wilder, less controlled than the buttoned-up businessman I was accustomed to.

"Step back," he commanded.

I blinked, startled, but instinctively took a step backward. A moment later, a spray of cool water hit my legs as Aiden hoisted himself out of the pool in one powerful movement.

He stood before me, water cascading down his broad chest and defined abs, over the sharp V-lines disappearing into his low-hanging swim shorts. Droplets clung to his tanned skin, catching the moonlight.

He removed his swimming goggles, revealing those intense dark eyes that seemed to see straight through me.

"Need something?" he asked, his voice low and casual.