4. Aiden
AIDEN
“This is bloody mad.” Aiden pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling slowly to keep his temper in check.
“Sit down. Grab a drink.” Felix peered up at him from the bar with a chagrinned expression.
With a clenched jaw, Aiden slid into the barstool beside Felix. He’d always hated Las Vegas. Probably unreasonably so. But something about it had always seemed so...irritatingly dirty. Infuriatingly sleazy.
This wasn’t helping.
“Look, we’ve known each other for a long time, Aiden. I told you from the start that I’ll always shoot straight with you. And I’m warning you now because I consider us friends.”
Friends? He barely knew Felix Covington. His company was among many that Camden held contracts with, and the two men were friendly enough, but Aiden didn’t know if he could name three personal facts about the man.
Felix sipped on his Manhattan and winced. Perhaps at the drink. Perhaps at his own lack of subtlety.
“This is business, pure and simple,” Felix said.
“The company just isn’t impressed by the way this whole Ipolymer deal has gone down.
You keep saying it’s going to happen, and—look—I’m sure you’re trying your best, but you can’t shit where you sleep.
Frankly, that sort of behavior just hasn’t impressed my board.
I’m doing what I can, but partnering with another company is looking more appealing to them the longer this drags out. ”
Aiden let his eyes drift from the bar toward the chaotic, blinking lights.
No wonder people lost all sense of time in here.
The noise, the crowds, the flashiness, the fliers of mostly naked women everywhere —it was overstimulation dressed up in neon—even with the jet lag.
If he tried to lie down and go to sleep right now, he’d struggle to shut his brain off.
It was like drinking inside a pinball machine.
He ordered a gin and leaned back, thinking before he responded. Felix’s news wasn’t just a blow—it was earth-shattering. If Covington Biotechnics partnered with another company, the repercussions would be felt in every single division of Camden Enterprises.
How in the hell was he supposed to go to London with this news?
But the truth was that he had fucked up. He had made such a disaster of the Ipolymer acquisition, however unintentionally.
“You want my advice?” Felix asked unhelpfully.
Aiden’s drink arrived, and he lifted the glass. “Is it the kind I ask for, or the kind you give anyway?”
“Just make nice with Lola until the acquisition is secured. After that, it’ll be a done deal.
You can break up with her—again—or divorce her, or whatever the hell it takes.
But business is business. At the end of the day, sure, you shouldn’t have gotten involved with her, but now that you can’t unfuck that mess, you may as well enjoy yourself until you get what you want out of the deal.
You could do a hell of a lot worse than Lola Salas. ”
Aiden’s jaw flexed.
Christ. That’s what passed for romantic endorsement now? What a charming approach to corporate strategy—marry, merge, move on.
He’d worried about this sort of thing when he’d considered leaving the military and taking over at Camden. He wasn’t a paragon of morality, but he had standards. Ethics.
His father had built this company from the ground up. If not for the stroke, Arthur Camden would still be at the helm—gruff and demanding but honest. Aiden could respect that. What he couldn’t respect was this underhanded bullshit.
No wonder Quinn had bolted off to save the world with philanthropy while Aiden was stuck saving the balance sheets.
Second-born, second-choice, and just the sort to live this interminable, soulless monotony until he became just as rotten as the colleagues around him.
After secondary school, he’d tossed his reputation to the wolves by trying to save Ciara, a family friend, from humiliation after she’d wound up pregnant by some bastard who’d abandoned her.
Aiden had claimed the baby was his and ruined his family’s faith in him.
Ciara had miscarried, but the damage was done.
He’d already joined the British Army’s Intelligence Corps and was gone.
For six years, he tried to earn back credibility by completing a secondment with MI5 and developing counterterrorism and diplomatic security skills.
It was enough to impress his father when Aiden was needed for the CEO role at Camden, but not enough to shear the wool as the black sheep of the family.
And maybe someday, I’ll be just as soulless as they believe. But not today.
He slung his drink back, slammed the glass on the bar top, and stood. “I’m not for sale, Felix. If your company is so worried about my so-called bad behavior, surely getting involved with Lola Salas for a fifth time won’t impress anyone. Good night.”
Without giving Felix a chance to respond, Aiden left, searching for the exit. He needed to go outside and get a breath of fresh air.
Today had been a catastrophe from start to finish. The conference hadn’t started so terribly—Pinnacle was always one of the most notable events he attended. He’d spoken yesterday and been on a panel, and everything had felt surprisingly ...positive.
But after today, all he wanted to do was cancel his meetings for tomorrow, get the first flight out, and go spend the weekend somewhere—anywhere—else.
Of course, he couldn’t do that.
He had duties. Responsibilities. His family’s business weighed on his shoulders.
Perhaps the mistake had been assuming he was cut out for this in the first place.
When he started working at Camden five years ago, even his father hadn’t been certain he would be dependable. But Aiden had wanted to prove him wrong, show his worth. After the disaster with Ciara from his foolish teenage years, everyone had painted him as a villain anyway.
That’s what you get for being soft.
Maybe he just wasn’t cut out for this.
Or maybe Felix was right.
He’d made a mess of things. Maybe the easiest way out was playing the game—just long enough to win.
But was he really willing to sink to that level?
He didn’t have to like doing it, but it wasn’t really his fault, was it? Lola and her father were the ones who blurred the lines between business and personal where they shouldn’t have.
The cool night air struck his flushed face as he walked out, heading for the Strip.
In a different life, he would have been drinking the night away with his army friends, finding comfort in alcohol and women. Back when he’d been “irresponsible.” The good old days, apparently.
And now, look at him— Mr. Responsible.
And miserable.
He unbuttoned his tailored suit jacket, then pulled off the conference lanyard from his neck, blinking in the glow of the nearby Eiffel Tower, a frivolous replica that paled in the shadow of the real thing. A cardboard cutout of culture.
God, I miss Paris. Miss traveling for fun.
Felix’s words rang in his head. “You may as well enjoy yourself until you get what you want out of the deal.”
The temptation curled through his throat with sickening disgust. Was he being short-sighted here?
I need the night off from this.
Whatever problems he had would still be waiting for him in the morning—but a night of well-deserved relaxation might help him set his mind straight.
Sucking in a deep breath, he raised his chin, scanning the Strip.
Maybe I just need to shut up and let Vegas do its worst.