Chapter 19
LUCIAN
The clock ticked like a drumming countdown as I sat in the meeting room, watching the door, waiting for Aspen to walk through.
My pulse thrummed an anxious beat, almost as fast as my bouncing leg under the table.
Anticipation over discovering how she’d act around me electrified my nerves until I couldn’t sit still.
Would I get the Aspen who flooded me with her emotions at the club, or would I get the one who ran away and ignored every message and call over the past two agonizing weeks?
Neither option settled comfortably, like a too-tight shirt that twisted and pulled.
However, the memory of coming home to an empty apartment reignited the anger that had consumed me.
After talking to Corbin and Rose, their words had crept past my mountainous walls, and I’d headed home with an inkling of hope—only to find her gone.
That hope vanished to ash under a fiery disappointment.
My friends had built me up, making me believe I could face her and admit that what we had might be more than we had set out to have.
Not love. Every time that word crept into my thoughts, my chest twisted until I struggled to breathe.
But I’d walked in, and embarrassment heated me from the inside out, reminding me too much of what Daria had made me feel.
I’d pushed past my boundaries for her—built myself up to face her—just to have everything ripped out from under me.
I became self-righteous, justifying my earlier reactions, resolidifying my walls with the affirmation that if she’d meant everything she’d said, she wouldn’t have abandoned me.
Lying in bed, hoping to hear the slam of the front door had left me unable to completely deny any feelings of hurt—which only led to more defensiveness.
I’d gone to the club the next day, determined to wipe away any remnants of wounded pride. Instead of the oblivion I searched for, I found Rose standing in the hallway, lips pursed, brow raised, arms crossed, and foot tapping.
“What are you doing here? Alone? Is Aspen coming to meet you later?”
“No,” I grumbled, matching her glare with one of my own.
“Did you not talk to her last night?”
“No.”
She huffed. “And why not?”
I took two steps closer, my lip curling in a snarl. “Because she fucking left, and I don’t know where she went.”
If I expected sympathy, I was disappointed. “You poor baby,” she cooed sarcastically. “Maybe instead of throwing a tantrum, you should find out.”
“Maybe I shouldn’t have to hunt down the woman who claimed to care soooo much about me and then ran at the first bump in the road.”
This time, her expression did soften—barely. “I get it, Lucian. You opened yourself up to the possibility of more, and it didn’t work out. But it was one moment. While you opened your barrier an inch, she flew her doors wide open. Put yourself in her shoes.”
My shoulders fell, and she closed the gap, resting a comforting hand on my shoulder.
“It’s okay to be vulnerable when you care about someone. Yes, sometimes you’ll get hurt, but for the most part, it’s worth it.” Her hand slid down my arm to my hand and squeezed. “Did you call or message her?”
“No,” I mumbled.
“Jesus Christ.” She rolled her eyes. “Well, quit being a dumbass and reach out to her.”
“I will.”
“Now,” she demanded.
With her looming beside me, I pulled out my phone and sent a message. “Happy now?”
She smiled. “Yes. Now go home. I’m not allowing you to stay here and fuck any of your chances up with stupid pride.”
When I didn’t hear back from Aspen, I got mad all over again and made a second attempt to lose myself at The Berkshire—only to find Rose waiting for me, demanding I try again.
Another ignored message and phone call led to another attempt, and a waiting Rose. After that, I didn’t bother going back, but Rose still contacted me daily, checking in and bullying me into not giving up.
Eventually, I began spending more time at her offices than at mine, hoping to run into her. It was there that I overheard the employees discussing how surprised they were that she’d gone on vacation, since she’d never taken one before, but they didn’t mention where.
A few days later, I experienced a horribly uncomfortable conversation when a few of her coworkers asked me where my fiancée was and why I hadn’t gone with her.
Thinking quickly on my feet, I offered a rakish grin and said that if she hadn’t told them, then neither would I.
I’d claimed to be a good fiancé who kept his girl’s secrets.
They’d swooned, and I’d made my escape, deciding not to return until I had to.
I’d avoided the Quinn Music Group offices until this meeting, which had been scheduled for last week. However, Aspen’s absence pushed it to today—leaving me to assume she was back in town, and I was moments from seeing her again.
“Good to see you again, Mr. Daire,” Parker Callahan, the lead singer for Haunted Obsession, greeted me.
I blinked from my daze and stood, reaching across the table to shake his hand. “Good to see you, too.”
The rest of the band entered behind him, and I shook their hands, wondering if I was imagining their glowers or if they always acted that way.
I’d only met them a handful of times, but from what I remembered, Oren was a playful drummer who always had a ready smile, while Brogan was the guitarist whose large frame and tattooed arms alluded to a hard-ass personality, but usually played around as much as Oren.
Now, Ash, I knew was the quiet one who wore a broody stare, but he watched me with a more intense glare, mixed with his aggressive handshake.
However, that might be in response to my own shadowy look and imposing grip. I hated that he’d been with Aspen and would probably take her up on any offer to go again.
I didn’t fucking think so. Aspen was mine.
We took our seats, and silence settled over the room.
Attempting to believe their hardened stares weren’t directed at me, I pushed to break the silence. “I’m sorry about the meeting being delayed. Miss Quinn went out of town unexpectedly. Thankfully, she is back, allowing us to reschedule.”
Ash slid his frosty gaze to me and scoffed before looking away. “No thanks to you,” he muttered.
My muscles clenched, and my eyes narrowed—I knew without a doubt these four men were pissed at me, and if those words had come from anyone other than the man who’d fucked Aspen, I would’ve swallowed it for the sake of professionalism.
But because it was Ash, I couldn’t stop myself from meeting his challenge head-on.
“What was that?” I asked, my tone low and biting.
He faced me with his lip curled and leaned forward, resting both elbows on the table. “Maybe Miss Quinn wouldn’t have gone out of town if you hadn’t fucked up so royally that she felt the need to leave.”
“Our relationship is none of your business,” I declared icily.
“It kind of is when it affects our band,” Brogan added under his breath.
“Exactly,” Ash added, pointing to the large guitarist. “We were supposed to decide who we toured with last week and be practicing by now, but nooo, your shitty relationship skills have put us behind.”
I ground my jaw, clinging to the threads of my control. “I’m not the one who was unable to attend the original meeting.”
“No, but you’re the reason Aspen wasn’t here.”
“Again,” I bit out. “This is none of your business.”
“Well, she’s my friend. So, I’m making it my business.”
“And she’s my fiancée.”
He cocked a brow over a taunting glare. “Is she?”
“Ash,” Parker said softly, resting his hand on Ash’s arm.
Ash shook it off and sat back, crossing his arms. “Whatever. He’s an asshole and not worth my time,” he muttered.
The realization that he had not only spoken to Aspen in the past two weeks, but that she’d confided in him, sent my pulse thundering. Heat flushed through my veins until I feared I’d explode.
Aspen ignored my every message—my every call—but talked to this man.
Aspen ran from me without giving me a chance to repent, but listened to Ash.
Aspen left me, but not him.
More embarrassment over being excluded from her life—from being the man she leaned on—bled into frustrated resentment that pierced through my walls as if they were made of butter.
My lips parted, ready to impart a scathing response that reminded him that she was mine. Before I could unleash my ire against him, the door opened, and Hank Quinn entered—followed by Aspen.
“Lucian,” Hank greeted. “Welcome back.”
I stood to shake his hand, moving on autopilot as every cell in my body locked onto Aspen—the first glimpse I’d had of her in what felt like an eternity.
She wore a black Foo Fighters T-shirt with a fitted white skirt that fell below her knees, with a slit reaching impossibly high on her thigh. Her smooth skin teased me with glimpses from each step in her sky-high black heels.
She was power.
She was sin.
She was everything.
I held my breath, bracing for the moment she turned those warm, honey-colored eyes on me. My lungs locked tight as I waited—desperate for even the smallest clue in her gaze, anything that might tell me where we stood.
She took her time greeting every man in the room, stretching my wait into something almost cruel.
Any second now… any second.
I schooled my face into indifference, fists clenched hard at my sides—only for her to pass right over me, like I was nothing more than empty air.
She sat at the head of the table and flipped open her folder, diving right in, giving her focus to the four guys who hung on her every word while still managing to deliver glares my way in between.
I observed her in awe of her skill and capability, almost laughing as I thought back to when I had initially thought she was some spoiled princess who had risen to her position through nepotism. I couldn’t have been more wrong.
The entire meeting, I sat there starving for her attention—like a kid stuck in the back seat outside a bank, desperate to be noticed and handed a sucker, but too proud to ask for it.
The entire meeting, she acted as if I didn’t exist, and it sent me spinning between two extremes: so damn angry I was one second away from slamming my fists on the table and demanding she acknowledge me, and so painfully turned on by how effortlessly she commanded the room, earning the respect and focus of every man there.
I got so lost in that constant tug-of-war that the meeting was over before I even realized it had ended.
Hank shook my hand, thanking me for being interested enough in the company to observe meetings before chatting with the guys as they made their way toward the exit.
Good, with them focused on each other, Aspen had no choice but to face me. I watched her pack up her belongings and stand—clearly intent on leaving without acknowledging me at all.
I didn’t fucking think so.
Her deliberate indifference sent a rabid need clawing up my spine. I fell back into old habits, provoking her, knowing it would garner me a reaction.
“Nice of you to finally grace us with your presence, Miss Quinn.”
Other than freezing for a half-second, she didn’t react, not even bothering to spare me a glance. “Sorry,” she said, her voice as cold as ice. “I didn’t know Daire Holdings needed to approve my vacation time. Should I submit my paperwork to your company as well as mine?”
“Hardly,” I grumbled. “But as your fiancé, I think I deserve to know when you plan to disappear for two weeks.”
She scoffed. “There are a lot of things I’d hoped to be afforded as your fiancée that I didn’t receive.
” She swung her tote over her shoulder and finally graced me with a look.
The gaze she leveled was empty, glacial, so much cooler than the ice queen I’d witnessed before—and so much worse.
“You’re the last person who should be commenting on what’s deserved and what isn’t.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have other meetings to attend. ”
“Aspen,” I called, moving after her.
I barely made it two steps past the door before I hit a wall of muscle.
Four men blocked the doorway, arms crossed, eyes hard—every inch of them daring me to try.
I scanned them for a weakness, any opening I could force my way through, but the members of the band stood their ground, a united front with one clear purpose:
Ensure Aspen’s escape.
By the time they disbanded their blockade, she had vanished.
I glowered at each of them, and my annoyance peaked when they merely smiled.
It wasn’t until I reached my office, behind closed doors, and was replaying every second in her presence, that I remembered catching a detail that didn’t register until then.
She still wore her engagement ring.
A slow smile tugged at my mouth as flickers of hope sputtered to life in my chest. Riding that reckless surge, I put together a plan designed to strip her of every chance to avoid me and hit send.