Aaron sat slumped in a dim quiet corner of the 24-hours nightclub notoriously known from its interior seemingly as night even when it is broad daylight.
A cigarette dangled between his fingers, its smoke curling lazily into the stale air, dissipating like the certainty he once had in his future.
His gaze was unfocused, fixed into the distance, his loosened tie hung askew around his neck, and he couldn’t even recall when he’d undone it or when he’d lost track of everything.
His hair was scattered and unkempt, the result of countless frustrated fingers dragging through it.
His eyes were bloodshot, hollow, void of the glint once associated with the dashing young master Aaron Allen. That image of prestige, control, and effortless charm had vanished.
He didn’t believe this was happening. Not to him.
Desmond was supposed to have this under control. Aaron had always believed..no, he had always known that Desmond held the cards.
No matter who stepped up to back Davis, Desmond would find a way to buy them over, to put them back in their place. That was the confidence Aaron had built his world on.
But then, what happened?
"What step had he gone wrong?"
He’d asked himself that question a hundred times in the past few hours, but every path his mind wandered led to the same dead end.
No matter how he thought about it, it didn’t add up.
Desmond had tried to warn him. He remembered now, those vague remarks, the moments of hesitation but Aaron had dismissed them all with blind arrogance.
He was too sure of Desmond and too trusting of his capabilities that he failed to see that Desmond, too, had limits.
Though Desmond had always tried to pull him along, to let him into the ropes but then...the hardest truth.
He shook his head lightly.
"I have nothing left. Nothing to start with. Nothing to fight back with. Totally nothing."
"Is this really the end?" he wondered.
Drawing a long inhale of the cigarette, he sighed as he watched the smoke curling up towards the ceiling.
"Never expected the careless young master Aaron to be at cross roads?" a voice sneered behind him.
Aaron didn’t bother turning his gaze to meet him. His voice was cold, laced with contempt. "What are you doing here?" He sneered.
"Well, what else? I heard the news and thought I’d drop by and see how our prodigal heir is doing," the man replied, laughter dancing in his tone.
Aaron took a slow sip of his drink, not bothering to mask his disdain.
"Aren’t you satisfied yet? You’ve always wanted the Allen family broken apart. My father trusted you and followed your lead like a fool. And now look where that’s gotten us."
The man chuckled, stepping forward into the faint glow of the table lamp, his voice interrupting "You don’t have to take it to heart. I was only trying to help him recover his position, his rightful place in the family.."
"You are really dedicated," Aaron sneered with a scoff
"If you’re that bothered," the man continued smoothly, "I could help you now. Uproot Davis and his darling wife. Eliminate the obstacles. And then... all that remains becomes yours. The sole heir to the Allen family." His smile was a blade cloaked in silk.
Aaron turned his head slightly, finally acknowledging him with a withering glance. Then, wordlessly, he tossed back the rest of his wine. Rising, he grabbed his suit jacket, car keys clinking in hand.
As he stepped past the man, he paused for just a breath.
"Try all you want," he said, his voice a low growl. "But I won’t repeat the same mistake my father made, I will take care of my matters myself."
With that, he walked out, not sparing a backward glance.
Seeing him leave, the man’s smile fades, replaced by a hard, venomous stare. "Really thought you were smart? The Allen family must surely pay with every bit of their life for their death."
Slowly, he unlatched the locket on his neck, his hand softly caressed it, his gaze filled with love and longing.
"Mom, Dad, I will definitely avenge every bit of your death. For the sake of their experiments you were sacrificed, yet at the end, you were denied your entitlement," his voice cracked but swiftly masked with resolve.
Footsteps echoed down the hall. Voices approached. Without another word, he slipped through a side exit just before a group of guards burst into the room.
"It seemed he just left?" one said as he took note of every little detail of the room. The smoky air, the faint scent of men’s cologne which seemed to be of varieties.
"He’s not far," their leader barked. "Search the area. Quickly."
"They scoured the private box, overturning nothing but empty glasses and ash. Aaron was already gone.
The instruction had been quite clear. "Don’t return without Aaron Allen."
"Let’s go back to that room, I think there is something wrong," he said as he thought about the faint scent that lingered in that room.
Returning to the room, he carefully searched around, his gaze sweeping across every little detail of the room.
From the information they received, Aaron had been here for a few hours. The leader’s brows furrowed in contemplation as he analyzed the situation, drawing a conclusion.
"Aaron had been here for hours," he said thoughtfully. "Drinking. Smoking. But this fragrance..." He sniffed again. "Musky. Subtle. Doesn’t belong to him."
"Who was he meeting?" he mused.
"And what was the purpose of the meeting?"
His jaw tightened. He’d need to report this, not just Aaron’s escape, but this unknown person.
Despite the rocky beginning, the launch had gone surprisingly well. Richard stood near the grand entrance of the ballroom, exchanging polite farewells with the last wave of guests.
The tension that had coiled around his chest since the morning was beginning to ease slightly.
Business leaders, many of whom had previously shown lukewarm interest were suddenly tripping over themselves to secure meetings, partnerships, and future deals with Angels’ Wear.
Seeing them anxious made his instincts flare as his mind raced with suspicions.
He made a mental note to find out what had transpired to set the business world of Country Y aching to secure a partnership with Angels’ Wear.
Though he had his suspicions but he needed to confirm it.
As he turned to greet another guest, his eyes landed on a man approaching with quiet elegance and coldness. Though young, he exuded the charm of a prince.
Richard’s heart skipped, his body stiffened as he his gaze fell on those eyes. "So similar to Jessica," he murmured.
The resemblance was uncanny, striking even. A thought darted across his mind, a whisper of a possibility he immediately dismissed. No. It couldn’t be.
Quickly, he gathered his composure.The message Jessica dropped for him was still clear in his heart.
"Mr. Anderson," he said, extending a hand, "thank you for attending. Your presence means a lot."
Julian accepted the handshake, his demeanor warm but composed. "Your new collection is impressive. I’m proud of the direction Angels’ Wear is heading."
"All credit goes to Lady Bright," Richard replied, gesturing toward the private lounge. "She’s the visionary behind the designs."
Julian followed him inside, his gaze sweeping the room, searching. He didn’t see her.
"Where is she?" he asked, his tone in a calm business-like voice but edged with anticipation.
Though eager to see Jessica, he had decided to tread carefully. He couldn’t afford to raise any suspicion at least, not yet.
Richard hesitated for a split second, then answered evenly, "Just a few minutes after your arrival, she received an emergency call and had to leave immediately."
Julian nodded slowly, concealing his disappointment behind a business-like expression.