Chapter 18
Aaron returned to the executive office. He slumped back into his chair, eyes fixed on the ceiling, his entire posture radiating exhaustion.
Albert, trailing behind him, collapsed heavily onto the sofa, half-sprawled. “I’m dead. Those old fossils wouldn’t let go. We spent hours arguing over that one issue.”
Aaron gave a cold, humorless laugh. “As long as they challenge me in the open, that’s fine. If they decide to play dirty, I won’t be so polite.”
Albert bolted upright. “Did they give your ‘wife’ any trouble?”
“Not yet. I told her not to leave the house, but...”
He remembered the notification he’d received during the meeting and immediately checked his phone. His heart sank as he read the message from the housekeeper:
The lady received a call and rushed out.
His lips tightened into a thin, white line; his grip on the phone turned his knuckles white. He dialed her number instantly. The line rang and rang, unanswered, until it finally cut to voicemail.
Albert, oblivious to Aaron’s growing turbulence, kept rambling. “You really need to keep a leash on your fake wife. If Ethan’s people get to her, I’m worried she’ll slip up. Have you synced your stories yet? Aaron? Hey, I’m talking to you.”
Aaron pulled himself back to the present. “What?”
“Stop obsessing over the meeting,” Albert said. “You need to get your stories straight. Give her more money—I’m just worried she’ll betray you.”
“She...” Aaron’s throat bobbed. “She wouldn’t...”
“Are you that sure?” Albert pressed, his voice rising. “Women like that love money. If Ethan’s people offer her a price, are you certain she won’t change her tune?”
“She isn’t that kind of person...” Aaron finished, his gaze drifting toward the window.
“Bullshit. How well do you even know her? You need a non-disclosure agreement. I’ll prepare the paperwork.”
“Thanks,” Aaron said, though his voice lacked conviction. “Not necessary.”
“You have to sign it, Aaron! When it comes to your future, you can’t trust anyone.”
----
Aaron sat in his car, watching the corner of the street in silence.
A film crew was busy at work. Directors, cameramen, lighting techs, and makeup artists swirled around in a flurry of activity.
Kinsley stood on the sidelines, clutching a stack of papers, frantically memorizing her lines during a break.
The director barked an order, and she stepped into the center of the set, the cameras rolling once more.
Aaron watched from the distance, his mind wandering back to the first time he’d seen her outside that coffee shop. I’ve been treating her like a temporary “risk variable” to be controlled. But in her own world, she’s just a small-time actress fighting with everything she has for a chance.
The scene continued. Kinsley argued with the male lead, her voice cracking with intensity. A moment later, the actor pulled her into an embrace and kissed her.
Aaron straightened in his seat. His fingers, resting on the steering wheel, tightened until his knuckles went pale. He stared at the pair caught in their passionate embrace, and, driven by a sudden, subconscious impulse, he threw his car door open.
The director shouted “Cut.”
Kinsley quickly pulled away from the male lead, wiping the remnants of the kiss from her lips with a frantic, messy motion.
The director gave instructions for the next scene.
Good, no retakes. Aaron let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and settled back into the car.
But looking back at the set, the excitement he’d felt moments ago had vanished.
Eventually, the crew packed up and dispersed.
Kinsley sat on the corner of the street, looking desolate.
Aaron tapped the horn; she glanced toward the sound, recognized his car, and then immediately looked away.
After a long beat, she finally walked toward him, her hesitation palpable.
His heart felt as if it had been pricked—did she not want to come over at all?
Fortunately, despite her reluctance, she got into the passenger seat.
“How did you know I was here?” Kinsley’s voice was calm, as if she had prepared herself to endure whatever might come next.
“If I want to find you, there isn’t a corner of this city where you can hide.”
She forced a fake smile, offering no rebuttal.
“Why are you so insistent on leaving?”
“I have my own world.”
“I told you, this is a special period.”
She was silent for a moment, appearing to suppress a surge of emotion. “Mr. Hoffman, I signed a contract with you, but I did not sell myself to you. I still have my freedom.” Her voice rose slightly.
Hearing her address him that way made Aaron’s heart ache once more. He gave a cold laugh. “Is this about money? If you think what I’ve given you isn’t enough, I can add more.”
He tapped his phone. A notification pinged on hers: Account credited $50,000...
Kinsley’s expression remained indifferent. “What is this?”
“I’m paying you. Drop this job.” His voice was icy.
“I’m sorry, I refuse.” Without another word, she manipulated her phone to transfer the funds back to his account. “Please don’t interfere with my life outside of the contract.” Her tone was as light as if she were speaking of something entirely unrelated to her.
Aaron’s jaw tightened. He felt an urge to grab her phone and force her to keep the money, but he restrained his hand. He took a deep, jagged breath and started the car.
Kinsley buckled her seatbelt, her eyes falling on a stack of papers nearby. She picked them up. “What is this?”
It was a non-disclosure agreement.
The car screeched to a halt. Aaron stared straight ahead, his eyes unfocused. “You... don’t worry about that.”
She read the words aloud, her voice devoid of emotion. “To ensure the integrity of the marriage agreement, this NDA serves as a supplementary document...”
“It’s just to finalize the paperwork, you can—”
“No problem. I’ll sign it.” She cut him off coldly before he could finish, quickly scribbling her name on the page. “Pleasure doing business with you.”
The frigid tone of her voice sent a chill straight through him. Kinsley placed the document back where she found it and turned her gaze toward the window. Aaron irritably tugged at his tie and slammed his foot onto the accelerator.
The long drive home was silent. The air inside the car felt frozen, nearly suffocating.
Aaron stole glances at her in the periphery.
Streetlights flickered past the windshield, one by one.
She sat pressed against the door, as far from him as she could possibly be.
Her silhouette looked lonely, distant, and unreachable.
Aaron wanted to say something. But his throat felt constricted, and in the end, he said nothing at all.