Chapter 19
Aaron felt as though everything had changed. The moment the car pulled into the garage, Kinsley acted as if nothing had happened, turning to him with a brilliant, sunny smile. Caught off guard, he found his own brows relaxing in response.
She linked her arm through his as they headed inside, yet he felt a subtle, lingering dissonance.
During dinner, Kinsley was even more animated than usual, frequently bringing up topics she knew he would enjoy.
The conversation flowed, yet he felt as if the woman beside him was a stranger—far more distant than the day they first met.
He couldn’t quite put his finger on it. As he held her hand walking upstairs, he felt her slipping away, drifting into the ether right beside him. She continued to chat in a desultory, uninterested manner. Aaron pulled her into his arms and fell silent for a few seconds.
“About earlier... I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice deep.
“About what? You didn’t do anything to me,” she replied.
“The business about you not being allowed to film. I take it back.”
Kinsley offered a faint smile, trying to push him away. “I’d already forgotten about it.”
“I was just worried you’d be harassed—that you wouldn’t be able to handle it.”
She pulled out of his embrace. “Now that I’ve signed the non-disclosure agreement, you can rest easy, right?” Her smile was brittle, forced.
“I know you’re bothered by this,” Aaron said, pulling her back. “You know how bad your acting is; you can’t fool me.”
His voice grazed her ear, his breath warm against her skin. She closed her eyes, a cold, mocking laugh echoing in her mind: It’s not that my acting is bad; it’s that I don’t want to perform anymore.
Aaron’s arms tightened. He felt her slipping away, and a sudden, sharp panic gripped him; he only wanted to crush her against him. He pressed his lips to hers—a shallow touch that quickly deepened into a fierce, demanding assault.
Kinsley went to push him away, her hands resting against his chest, but she stopped. The wounds his earlier insults had carved into her heart had yet to heal. She had already decided to bury the love she felt for him deep within, until it withered and died.
Suddenly, he stopped. Amidst his ragged breaths, he cupped her face.
“You don’t want this, do you?” His eyes were clouded with pain and uncertainty.
She paused, then rose on her tiptoes, looped her arms around his neck, and kissed him.
“That’s not important.”
Aaron’s spine went rigid. He pushed her away. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“Since this is a job, and you’re so generous, I have no reason to complain.”
The silence hung heavy for several seconds. Aaron’s hands slowly dropped to his sides. He watched her for a long time, as if trying to confirm some final, devastating truth. Then, he let out a soft, hollow laugh.
“So that’s how it is.” His voice was barely a whisper. He took a step back. “In that case, you don’t have to force yourself.”
With that, he turned and walked into the bathroom. The door clicked shut—a soft sound, yet it felt like a wall rising up, sealing something away forever.
That night, Kinsley didn’t retreat to the edge of the bed; instead, she lay right beside him. But he didn’t appreciate the gesture. He let her hold his arm, but he didn’t look at her again.
--
Aaron sat at his desk, just having wrapped up a meeting. He leaned back in his chair, letting his mind wander into the void. His gaze drifted to a document on the far end of his desk, his expression unfocused.
Albert knocked and walked in, plopping himself down on the edge of the desk. “What’s wrong? You look like you’ve swallowed gunpowder. The directors in that last meeting were practically ready to hand in their resignations.”
Aaron offered a cold, mirthless laugh.
“What’s this?” Albert picked up the document. “The NDA is signed? Well, that’s one weight off our minds.” He placed the file aside, his tone taking on a note of deliberation. “It’s a shame it’s not quite perfect yet, though.”
Aaron shot him a sideways glance. “What do you mean?”
Albert perked up. “Even with the NDA, your ‘fake wife’ won’t go around blabbing, but that doesn’t mean she’ll know how to handle it if she’s grilled. I’m telling you, we should do more. Give her some training. Limit what she can and cannot say—”
“Enough!”
Aaron snapped, his voice sharp enough to silence the room. “Stop hounding her. I’d rather lose this position than turn her into a puppet.”
Silence descended on the office. After a long beat, Albert shrugged, sounding slightly sheepish. “I’m just looking out for you. She’s just some woman you picked up off the street—is she really worth getting this worked up over?”
Aaron rested his head in his hand and waved him away. “Get out. Leave me in peace.”
Left alone in the office, Aaron opened the message thread on his phone. The list of messages Kinsley had sent over the past few days was long, yet he had rarely replied.
The daily greetings, the updates on the weather, the anecdotes she thought were interesting—now, they all felt more like she was simply ‘clocking in’ for a shift.
He thought back to the night before, when he had spiraled from a state of fiery intensity into icy detachment, and tossed his phone onto the desk.
Moments later, a new message popped up:
I’ve finished my scenes. Can I go back to school for classes?
Aaron began to type “No,” but stopped. He tossed the phone aside without sending it. Whether she was going to school, filming, or doing something else entirely, he didn’t want to make those decisions for her anymore.
----
A knock sounded at the door.
“Come in.”
The door pushed open, and Ethan strolled in, wearing a practiced, beaming smile. “I haven’t had a chance to offer my congratulations yet, Mr. Chairman.”
He pulled up the chair across from Aaron’s desk and sat down. Aaron squinted at him.
“Out with it. What do you want? I’m busy.”
“Naturally. Being Chairman is bound to keep you busier than before.” He slid an elegant invitation across the desk. “But for tomorrow night’s banquet, I certainly hope you’ll honor us with your presence.”
Aaron glanced at the invitation, his expression devoid of interest.
Ethan stood up. “It would be best if you brought your wife along. We’re all family, and we’re very much looking forward to meeting her.”
Aaron tossed the invitation onto the desk, his eyes locking onto Ethan’s with razor-sharp intensity. “No problem. You’ll get your wish. Do you really think I don’t know exactly what you’re plotting?”
Ethan left, and Aaron stared at the invitation, a cold smirk playing on his lips.
From the moment he had set this plan in motion, he knew this day would come.
Ethan would never be content watching the position he had coveted for years be snatched away.
Suddenly, Aaron felt that perhaps Albert had been partially right.
If he had Kinsley fully briefed on every possible line of questioning, she might not slip up if Ethan tried to pry secrets out of her.
But... he absolutely hated the thought of doing it.