Chapter 288
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Chapter 288:
The massive glass sunroom was ordinarily a place for quiet reading and afternoon tea. Today, it looked as though a craft store had exploded.
Aaden lay flat on his stomach on the expensive Persian rug, wearing denim overalls covered in glitter. He was aggressively coloring a massive piece of white foam board with a neon pink marker.
Justin sat cross-legged beside him, suit jacket discarded, crisp white shirt sleeves rolled to his elbows. He was carefully cutting out gold foil stars with a pair of safety scissors.
Across the foam board, in enormous, blindingly bright pink letters, were the words: KNIGHT AADEN, MOST HANDSOME IN THE ROOM!
The heavy glass doors of the sunroom slid open.
Gaston walked in, holding a crystal glass of amber whiskey. He stopped in his tracks, staring at the disaster on the floor. His dark eyebrows drew together.
He nudged the edge of the neon pink board with the toe of his Italian loafer.
“You look like a desperate reality TV star,” Gaston said, taking a sip of his whiskey. “That is the ugliest thing I have ever seen p>
Justin did not look up from his gold stars. “It is highly visible. It is designed to make a lasting emotional impact on Carmen p>
Gaston scoffed and turned to walk away. “Keep that monstrosity away from me tomorrow. I will not be seen within fifty feet of it p>
𝖩𝗈i𝗇 𝗍𝗵𝘦 c𝗼𝘮𝗆𝘶n𝗶𝘁𝘺 𝘢𝘁
Justin stopped cutting. He raised his head slowly. The sunlight caught the edge of his gold-rimmed glasses, masking his eyes behind a flash of white.
“Gaston,” Justin said, his voice dangerously calm. “Jocelyn is coming tomorrow, isn’t she? And we both know how much she adores Aaden p>
Gaston’s grip on the whiskey glass tightened.
Justin smiled — the smile of a ruthless politician. “If you refuse to hold this sign in the front row, I will casually mention to Jocelyn how you tried to impress that debutante at Yale and ended up setting the university boathouse on fire p>
Gaston ground his teeth. A hot flash of long-buried embarrassment spiked in his chest. He glared at his brother with pure, restrained hatred, knowing the politician would absolutely follow through on the threat.
Aaden looked up from the floor. He set down his pink marker, widened his eyes until they looked enormous and watery, and fixed his gaze on his uncle. “Uncle Gaston… do you not want to cheer for me p>
Gaston closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. Trapped between a blackmailing politician and a manipulative child.
“Fine,” he hissed.
Saturday morning in Manhattan.
Carmen stood before her open closet, her bed buried under discarded outfits. She had spent an hour trying to find the right thing to wear. Her usual sharp blazers felt too aggressive for a children’s play.
She finally settled on a soft beige knit midi dress that hugged her curves modestly and looked warm and approachable. She paired it with simple pearl earrings.
She looked in the mirror. The ruthless CFO was gone. The woman staring back at her looked gentle. Maternal.
The intercom buzzed. The driver was downstairs.