Chapter 122
Chapter 122:
The brochure landed on the mahogany desk with a soft, glossy slide — heavy stock, expensive, filled with photographs of Italian villas and sun-drenched terraces. The title read: Weddings in Lake Como.
Kieran Douglas barely glanced at it. His eyes were fixed on the computer screen, scanning a market analysis report on Collins Corp. The numbers were irritatingly solid. Gaston Collins was unbreakable.
“We need to set a date, Kieran. People are talking,” Aspen said from the leather chair opposite him. She picked at a loose thread on her Chanel skirt, her posture rigid.
Kieran rubbed his temples. A dull headache had been building behind his eyes since the elevator incident with Aaden.
𝘔o𝘳𝘦 𝗻𝗈𝗏е𝗹𝘀 о𝗇
“We just got engaged, Aspen. Let’s not rush,” he said, scrolling down the screen.
“Rush?” Aspen’s voice climbed an octave, sharp and grating. “It has been weeks since the announcement. We have not even picked a venue. My mother is asking whether you are having second thoughts p>
Kieran brought his hand down on the mousepad. The sound echoed through the large, quiet office. He looked up, his expression cold.
“I want the proposal to be perfect. The ring needs resizing. The market is volatile. I don’t have time to look at flower arrangements in Italy right now.” The lie came easily, smooth as oil on water.
Aspen narrowed her eyes. She rose and walked to the desk, placing her manicured hands on the edge and leaning in. Her perfume — something heavy and floral — filled the space between them and made his stomach turn.
“Is this about Jocelyn?” she accused. “Because I saw you at the mall. I saw the security footage from the elevator p>
Kieran stiffened. He had paid good money to bury that footage.
“Stop bringing her up. I’m busy,” he snapped. He did not deny it. He did not look at her.
Aspen recoiled as though he had struck her. Tears welled in her eyes instantly — a skill she had perfected since childhood. “You’re yelling at me. I am trying to plan our future, and you are yelling at me p>
Kieran sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. The guilt trip was her favorite weapon, and he was too tired to fight it today.
“I’m sorry,” he said. The words tasted like ash. “Just give me time. I have a lot on my plate with the merger p>
Aspen studied him for a moment, checking whether the manipulation had landed. Satisfied, she picked up her purse.
“Fine. But don’t make me wait too long, Kieran. I am not a woman who waits p>
She left, pulling the heavy oak door shut behind her with more force than necessary.
Kieran stared at the closed door and felt nothing but relief. He turned back to the screen, to the name Collins, then reached for his phone and opened the photo gallery. It was not a photo of Aspen. It was a blurry shot of Jocelyn laughing at the mall, holding Aaden’s hand. She looked alive. She looked free.
He hated it.
Aspen’s heels clicked furiously down the hallway. She pressed her phone to her ear before the elevator doors had even closed.