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Aiden

Aiden leaned back in his chair, fingers drumming on the conference table as he stared at the wall, the image of Delilah Fox flickering in his thoughts like a stubborn flame. As Merrick hurried past, the discussion about her lingered unspoken in the air. But he could feel the crushing power of inevitable inquiries dooming him from inside, like a storm rising just out of sight.

As the clock ticked down on his meeting with the clients, Aiden felt the weight of his friend's probing gaze, a silent promise of relentless questions waiting just beyond the door.

His breath quickened, his pulse pounding in his ears as Delilah's tongue flicked across her lips, glistening like a forbidden fruit. A low growl escaped his throat, primal and unexpected. Just as he leaned closer, heart racing, Roman's arrival pulled him back, leaving a whirlwind of confusion and longing swirling within.

Aiden admired Delilah's smile, the light dancing in her hair, and felt a twinge of guilt. He'd seen the way his colleagues' flings ended, with teary goodbyes and lingering glances. He had to avoid taking advantage of her.

He offered nothing more than a fling, while most ladies wanted more. The women he had spent time with over the years were not too pleased to find out the truth. Maybe they were trying to win over a successful businessman to marry them.

Aiden pressed his lips together, suppressing a laugh that felt more like a tight knot in his throat. The thought of those women, full of hope and dreams, chatting about love while oblivious to the reality of his life, struck him as absurd. He imagined their faces if they ever caught a glimpse of his true self─the powerful beast that resided beneath his skin. Just the memory of his last shift sent a shiver down his spine, the haunting echoes of terrified screams still ringing in his ears. His last girlfriend hadn't even given him a chance to explain; she'd fled as if facing a monster. Yet the reality was that Aiden craved companionship.

He yearned for a partner to share his life with, yet he couldn't shake the weight of his private life. Few women had the opportunity to get to know him before they left.

He concentrated on what he could handle and the upcoming meetings for now while remaining involved in his work. It was the perfect way for him to distract himself from the things that were on his mind.

Ms. Neremoux's eyes sparkled as she gazed across the conference table at Aiden, a radiant smile spreading across her face. "After all these years, I'm very delighted to see this portrait again," she said.

The way her eyes widened and her breath caught in her throat revealed that this piece meant more to her than mere colors on the canvas. It carried a weight that resonated within. Her fingers traced the contours of the faces in the painting, gliding as if she were dancing through their memories.

Aiden's lips curled into a satisfied smile as he gave a slight nod, his eyes gleaming with approval. This purchase, unlike the other products she had sent them searching for, carried a distinct weight. Less complicated. With most clients, he could sense what aesthetic or image they were after. Ms. Neremoux surrounded herself with an array of objects, each one whispering secrets he couldn't quite comprehend, an elusive thread of intrigue woven through their presence. The enchantments, artwork, gemstones, ceramic vessels, and wooden jewelry cabinets were all well beyond their prime. Still, it was a job, and the cash was flowing in.

Aiden watched her with a quiet admiration, his gaze lingering as she spoke, nodding at her. The woman's laughter lit up the room, and her confidence radiated like the sun. She walked among them, just like everyone else, her presence grounded in the ordinary. Every step she took paved the way for opportunities to arise.

His smile widened as he looked at her, a warmth in his eyes that spoke volumes. "So glad we could help," he said, his voice carrying a genuine sense of relief. "A thought crossed my mind about the painting."

As she took a breath, her bright hazel eyes met his gaze. She parted her lips and asked, "What is it, dear?"

Aiden sat with his hands folded in his lap, his eyes lingering on the vibrant colors of the artwork. After a moment of contemplation, he spoke, "I was wondering whether the painting meant anything. Who was the artist behind it?"

Her lips pressed together, creating a subtle line as her eyes met his. "An ancestor on my mother's side. After encountering something unusual, a great-grandfather of hers later decided to paint it."

Aiden's eyes grew large, and his ears perked up at her words. "Did he always have a talent for painting?"

"Yes, Mr. King. His name was Henry Cedric Ashbourne, and everyone demanded that he paint their images. He was quite well-known at the time," she said, her eyes drifting to the ceiling as she cradled the painting in her hand. "This was his last portrait. He wrote a brief piece outlining what he witnessed."

"Was it a nightmare, Ms. Neremoux? The painting gives a chilling perspective."

A subtle smile danced at the edge of her lips. "It was more than that, Mr. King. Henry's voice echoed the following day, filled with terror as he recounted the sight of a group of men, morphing into grotesque figures before his eyes. He referred to them as monsters, and occasionally, as werewolves. They blend into the crowd, living their lives in a tapestry of hidden ambitions and quiet achievements, nurturing families while keeping their true selves shrouded in mystery. Shadows and secrets."

Aiden swallowed hard as his client painted a vivid picture of his life. A flicker of realization crossed his mind; Ms. Neremoux's ancestor had encountered someone like him, guarding that secret through the ages. He kept his gaze steady on her, a casual mask hiding the turmoil within, his secret safe for now.

With her granddaughter's help, Ms. Nerevoux stood up. Perhaps due to years of assistance and collaboration, the younger woman listened and understood the older woman's needs. Unlike her grandmother's ornate style, the granddaughter preferred simple clothing. Plain tones, without any extra details. Both women shared a cascade of black hair that framed their faces and eyes that sparkled like the clearest sky. Her granddaughter adjusted her glasses, her thick frames overshadowing the brilliance of her sparkling eyes.

"Pay the man, Angelica," Ms. Neremoux instructed.

"Yes, Grandma."

Aiden watched as the younger woman tapped a series of numbers into her phone, just moments before his own device buzzed to life. He cast a gaze downward. A significant sum appeared in his account details.

Using her delicate hands, Angelica wrapped the picture in a layer of bubble wrap to keep it safe.

Ms. Neremoux fixed her gaze on Aiden, her voice steady as she announced, "We will be leaving at this time, Mr. King. You will need to send a representative from your company to visit me on the next occasion. Traveling has turned into a maze of delays and frustrations."

Aiden's brow arched, surprise flickering across his face at the unexpected turn of events. Ms. Neremoux's eyes narrowed, and her tight-lipped smile expressed her feelings about his staff visiting her home. This was her choice, however, and he found satisfaction in accepting it. The generous sum she provided made arranging a home delivery effortless.

"We're more than happy to meet your requests," he said, his lips contorting into a knowing grin. "Thank you for your business."

"Sure thing," she answered, nodding at him.

Both women stood up, and Ms. Neremoux paused, her stare probing the space between her and Merrick. She narrowed her eyes and studied him in the doorframe, as if she were uncovering secrets concealed behind his gruff demeanor.

"At times, when the world seems overwhelming, we battle for those we value," she said, looking at both men. "Think twice before making a decision; siding with the wrong faction might land you in trouble."

As he ran a hand through his hair, Aiden felt the knots in his neck tighten, akin to a coiling spring. He shot a sideways glance at her, wondering if she had any idea that they weren't just a bunch of guys in suits. Did she truly understand the hidden danger lurking beneath their casual demeanor? The thought sent a shiver down his spine.

A deep knot formed in his stomach, a mix of disbelief and concern, as he tried to picture her awareness of the gravity of her surroundings. How could she remain so relaxed when he felt the weight of the world pressing down with each passing moment?

The day moved from odd to unexpected in an instant. Aiden frowned as he wondered whether his aunt had influenced his client to make such statements. His head shook, dismissing the idea. Edna would never reveal the family secret and would guard it like a fierce sentinel.

"Uh, thank you," Merrick said, staring at Ms. Nerevoux. "We will take it into consideration."

He glanced at Aiden, who responded with a simple yet powerful shrug. Angelica walked her grandmother down the corridor with a nod and a gentle pat on her back. With a confident stance, she slipped the intriguing artwork beneath her arm.

Aiden glanced at Ms. Nerevoux, his voice steady as he offered, "I can have one of my staff help you get to your car."

Her eyes met his, pricked with interest. With a sharp shake of her head and a heavy sigh, she brushed it aside. "I've got this covered. Twenty-five years of handling everything on my own has taught me well."

Merrick smiled after a minute of both men staring at her. Aiden could tell that his friend was trying to hold back his laughter.

"Well, have a safe trip home, Ma'am," Merrick said.

They watched as Ms. Nerevoux and Angelica walked toward the elevator and stepped in. Aiden didn't even think before letting his gaze drift to the desk of Delilah Fox, who sat a few steps from the entrance. The new hire twisted a hair strand as she typed.

A magnetic pull increased his pulse, and he felt a warmth that he was unable to shake no matter how hard he tried. Gritting his teeth, Aiden suppressed the instinctive growl that threatened to escape. His eyes flicked to the elevator door, only to lock onto the piercing gaze of Ms. Nerevoux, her knowing stare making him shiver. A wave of unease twisted in his gut as the door slid shut, severing their connection.

Sighing, Aiden strolled back to his office and sank into his chair, resisting the urge to look at Delilah, the air thick with tension and unspoken feelings.

Merrick walked in, eyes searching the room, and sat on the couch, fingers drumming on the armrest. "That transaction was quite an experience, wouldn't you agree?"

Aiden ran his fingers through his tousled hair, the frustration bubbling beneath his serene façade. All members of the family were a great blend of grace and charm, fascinatingly entwined. Years of digging through dusty archives and piecing together fragmented stories had led him to the enigmatic Nerevoux family of France. They wore their reputation like a polished badge, admired by the community, but whispers of strange happenings within the bloodline remained in the shadows. A strange tingling at the back of his neck suggested undiscovered depths. They had smiles, but their eyes flickered with secrets. In a world filled with vampires prowling, fairies drifting, witches casting spells, angels guarding, demons scheming, and werewolves howling in the dark, the stakes were higher than he could ever imagine.

Merrick slumped into his chair, furrows appearing on his brow. "What does she know?" he asked, raising his voice just enough to be heard, as if anything said might shatter the delicate flow of uncertainty.

Aiden shifted his attention to the open window, where the sunbeams poured in like liquid gold, casting a warm glow on the dust particles that swayed in the room.

"Maybe it's just old tales," he replied, attempting to shake off the unsettling feeling that clung to him like a shadow. Deep down, he sensed a weight in Ms. Nerevoux's words, a gravity that pulled at the corners of his mind.

Merrick folded his arms across his chest and breathed. "I think she knows something," he said, the conviction in his voice rising. "Think about it. There's something beneath that calm exterior of hers."

"Yeah."

The riddle of Ms. Nerevoux engulfed them like a mysterious fog, and they both descended into a reflective stillness, seeking explanations.

Aiden's gaze drifted to Delilah's empty desk, feeling a blend of longing and frustration in his chest. He needed to redirect his attention to something else before making a mistake.

Merrick smirked as he remarked, "Seems like Ms. Fox has caught your attention."

Aiden frowned at the guy. "We bumped into each other earlier," he said. "It was two times today." He sucked in a deep breath, fighting to suppress the stirring desire within him.

"Three times altogether, huh?" His friend responded with a smug expression, which further irritated Aiden. "I believe everything is coming together for you, my friend."

Aiden gave a big sigh and shook his head. "I can't be with her," he replied. "Delilah's my forbidden fruit. She's a pain to deal with. She ruined my shirt in the elevator because she wore uncomfortable shoes, and then she hurled her papers at me in the hallway. She might murder me someday."

Aiden's pulse thudded in his ears as a rustle broke the stillness, making him flinch. He glanced up, startled.

Delilah stood there, file in her hands, her cheeks turning a bright shade of pink. "I, um..." she stammered, her voice a playful whisper that danced around the room.

He couldn't help but feel the absurdity of the moment; timing seemed to mock him.

"Rita wanted me to hand this to you," she continued, her words slicing through the thick silence as she placed the file on his desk with a soft thud. Unease filled the air as she glanced down, her fingers twitching with uncertainty. "I apologize for all my actions, Mr. King. From now on, I will keep my eyes open and my ears tuned in," she muttered, her eyes sparkling with unshed tears.

As she turned to go, her stance tight, Aiden felt a tumult of regret and need rush through him, but he did nothing.

Merrick shot a glance at Aiden, whose irritation radiated like heat from a flame.

"I thought that damn door was shut!" Aiden spat, the frustration evident in his clenched fists. "She must feel uncomfortable around me now!"

His friend stood, the creak of the door echoing as he swung it shut. "I thought you didn't like her," he quipped, but Aiden's brow furrowed deeper.

"I don't know anymore," he mumbled, the image of her flushed cheeks and stiff shoulders replaying in his mind, the weight of guilt settling on his chest. He knew he was a jerk who mistreated an innocent woman. He sank further into his chair, grumbling, "What else could go wrong today?"

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