Chapter 13
Aaron stood in the dim suite, fingers curled loosely around a half-full glass of whiskey. The liquor did nothing to untangle the knot in his chest. The rate he was taking alcohol as company these few days was alarming.
Reflections of city lights brimmed through the balcony window, but he wasn't seeing any of it because his mind was still trapped in the loud, clear voice of Jasmine from earlier at the lobby.
After he was done checking the finished work his personal assistant sent to him, he took the leisure to walk around the hotel. Only to stop when he saw Katherine and the twins.
He was surprised to see his twins. When he wanted to show himself to them, Jasmine's words made him pause.
"Mummy—"
He clearly heard it. And the way Katherine panicked, her eyes darting, hand flying to cover the girl's mouth like her life depended on it, made Aaron's ears prick up.
Katherine's voice came in—loud yet stiff, "You miss your mommy, right? I'll take you to her soon."
He gulped the rest of his drink and set the glass on the table. Throat bobbed from the heat of the liquor.
The girl called Katherine mummy.
Katherine. Mummy.
Yet Katherine didn't deny it but said she'd take them to their mother.
But the file stated that the kids had no parents—which mother did Katherine want to take them to?
The kids had definitely told him they had their mom and Uncle Mathew—not an aunty.
Does it mean Katherine is their mom and aunty?
But why was Katherine lying?
The kid definitely called her Mommy—he didn't imagine it.
Why the confusion and lies?
Aaron walked to the couch and dropped into it heavily. His fingers pressed into his temple tiredly. This was already affecting his work, his mind unconsciously drifting to Katherine and the children, and it wasn't helping. He needed answers. Desperately. None of this was making sense anymore.
He let his head fall back against the cushion as the quiet in the room stretched. He dragged in a long breath, running a hand through his hair. Why did everything feel like a goddamn mess?
Six years ago, he had thought walking away was the right choice. He thought giving himself space would fix things. He'd been angry, confused, and betrayed. Or at least, that's what he'd told himself.
But deep down, he knew the truth.
He hadn't needed space—he needed courage. And he ran instead.
And when he finally came back, when he was ready to confront the wreckage… life hit harder than any lie.
Then when he was discharged and returned to college, the whispers were rampant, circulating so fast. People looking at him with pity and sadness, which made him angry.
People cursing Katherine for his misfortune. As the captain of the football team, he had to be dismissed because of his leg injury. Success ahead of him was destroyed by a girl.
Everything happened so fast that it made him crash out emotionally—he took a break from college—his heart and brain couldn't handle everything and had to start rehab and therapy to get better.
And when he finally asked—when he gathered the nerve to confront his mother—her words were like a spear deep in his heart again.
"She's gone," Brenda had said, lips tight with disgust. "Ran off with the man who knocked her up."
But he knew.
Aaron knew deep down in him that Katherine wasn't someone like that. Katherine would never betray him and leave him. But something must have happened.
Something or someone made her run away. When he hired a private agent about her, they reported she vanished—disappeared. They couldn't get anything on her that year.
Aaron gritted his teeth and ran a hand over his face. Everything about Katherine screamed of someone who had been forced to rebuild from the lowest—from how she carried herself. She wasn't that weak, meek, shy girl anymore. She had grown into an experienced lady.
And everything about those kids screamed of something he should've known.
He was shaking with the need to know the truth.
A shuffle behind him snapped him out of his thoughts, making him clenched his fist and he turned slightly to see Amanda approaching, wrapped in a silk robe, her red curls damp from a late shower.
"There you are," she said softly, sitting beside him without invitation. "You've been gone for a while."
Aaron didn't reply. Why was she here again? His jaw clenched in irritation. She was always there. Always clinging. Always a pain in his ass. He could feel his head throbbing, the liquor already making him tipsy. He shook his head.
Amanda moved closer, her hand slightly brushing against his on the armrest. "I thought maybe you needed company." Her pitch was slightly higher than normal.
"I don't," Aaron said flatly, shifting away from her.
Amanda's smile faltered, but she didn't give up. She reached for him again, this time trying to place a hand on his thigh. "You've been so tense lately. Maybe we could… just talk. Or something else—"
Aaron interrupted her by catching her hand in mid-motion.
Her breath hitched.
"I think you've forgotten the nature of this arrangement," Aaron muttered, his voice cold and dangerous, which made Amanda's throat bob as she quickly withdrew her hand. "This isn't a marriage, Amanda. It's a contract. We agreed. No strings. No expectations."
"But we've lived like a couple for years," she whispered. "We've traveled together. We've shared a home. I know your routines. I—"
"We've shared space," Aaron corrected coldly. "Don't confuse that with closeness, Amanda."
Silence.
Amanda turned her face away, blinking fast. She could feel tears gathering in her eyes. "I'm not asking for love. Just… something. Anything." Her voice was below a whisper.
Aaron stood, stared at her—not with anger, not even disgust. Just a cold, distant pity that stung more than if he looked at with uninterested. "Then maybe you should renegotiate your terms. But I'm not the man to give you what you want."
He left her there.
Left her humiliated on the chair as Amanda hugged herself from shame.
She was ashamed.
She was Amanda Knight—desired, envied, adored. But to Aaron, she was nothing. That thought alone made her sob loudly from rejection.