Chapter 076

~~~Aiden~~~ As I stepped back into my room, the weight of my grief momentarily lifted, replaced by a sense of serenity. I settled onto my balcony, cradling my glass of wine as the cool night air caressed my skin. The tequila's numbing effects had temporarily silenced the tormenting memories, allowing me to bask in the peacefulness of the moment. As dawn broke, I reluctantly rose from my reverie, my body refusing to surrender to sleep. I retreated to the bathroom to refresh myself, the mirror reflecting a face etched with exhaustion. Emerging from the bathroom, I was met with an unwelcome sight: a tray of food on my bedside table. My stomach churned with nausea; the mere sight of food had become a turn-off. This had been the norm for three days now – meals delivered to my room instead of our usual family dinners. The tension between everyone was palpable, and I suspected the staff had taken notice. I began my morning routine, dressing in my signature style: a long-sleeved T-shirt, loose enough to reveal my abs, paired with black trousers and polished shoes. The familiar ritual provided a fleeting sense of comfort. As I returned the untouched tray to the kitchen, the maids' concerned expressions greeted me. Their unspoken questions hung in the air, but I didn't have the emotional bandwidth to address their worries. "I'm not hungry, one of you can have it," I said, my expression a mask of indifference. The maids exchanged uneasy glances, their eyes filled with unspoken questions. I knew they wanted to ask me what was wrong, but I didn't have the emotional energy to engage in a conversation. I swiftly turned and made my way back upstairs, seeking refuge from the suffocating tension. But as I walked along the walkway, I was suddenly face-to-face with Hailey. She looked breathtakingly beautiful in her dress, and for a fleeting moment, a smile twitched on my lips. However, the painful reality of our situation quickly extinguished the spark of happiness. I felt a pang of guilt and regret, and my smile vanished. I ignored Hailey's presence, unable to meet her gaze, and continued walking towards my room. As I entered my room, a voice in my head whispered, "I thought you wanted to make things right with her?" I felt a surge of grief and longing, and I replied, "I don't think I'm ready for that yet. I'm still reeling from Sandra's death, and the pain is still too raw." My heart felt heavy with sorrow, and I knew I needed more time to heal before I could even think about repairing my relationship with Hailey. I stepped into my room, grabbed my suit jacket, and headed to the parking lot. As I walked, the soft rustle of my jacket and the quiet hum of the guards trailing behind me were the only sounds that broke the silence. I slid into my car, the leather seat enveloping me in its cool, smooth surface. James, my most trusted guard, was already in position, assigned to accompany Hailey on her day's endeavors. I had every confidence in his ability to protect her, and with him by her side, I could finally breathe a little easier. The drive to the office was a quiet, contemplative affair. I immersed myself in some office work on my laptop, the soft glow of the screen illuminating my face as the city whizzed by outside. As we arrived at the office, I felt a familiar sense of dread wash over me. I sat in my car for a few minutes, collecting my thoughts before making a move. My driver, Jude, announced our arrival, his voice a gentle interruption to my reverie. "Sir, we are here," he said, his tone soft and respectful. I nodded, though I knew he couldn't see me. "I know Jude, just give me a few minutes," I replied, my voice low and even. I slumped back into my chair, feeling the weight of my exhaustion bearing down on me. But I knew I had to keep moving, no matter how hard it got. This was my escape, my only reprieve from the turmoil that had taken over my life. I closed my eyes, savoring the silence, when a knock at the window jolted me awake. I looked up to see Ava standing outside, her face a picture of concern. I rolled down the window, shooting her a glare for disturbing my peace. "What is it, Ava?" I asked, my tone curt and impatient. "I'm so sorry, sir," Ava apologized, her eyes darting nervously to the side, as if she'd interrupted something crucial. "But, sir, I know you have a strict instruction not to let anyone in," she continued, her voice laced with a hint of trepidation. I raised an eyebrow, my curiosity piqued. "And?" I asked, my tone weak but laced with a hint of annoyance. Ava hesitated, her eyes scanning the surrounding area before focusing on me again. "Why aren't you at your post, carrying out that instruction?" I retorted, my voice firm but controlled. Ava's eyes dropped, and she stuttered, "Sir, your dad... He..." Her voice trailed off, but the mention of my dad's name sent a spark of interest through me. My eyes widened, and my gaze pierced through Ava's, as if willing her to continue. "Don't tell me he's in there?" I asked, my tone commanding and authoritative. Ava nodded, her eyes still cast downward, and I felt a surge of irritation mixed with curiosity. What was my dad doing here? I opened the car door and stepped out, flipping my jacket over my shoulders. "Get my things," I ordered Ava, my voice firm and decisive. As I strode towards the office, my mind whirled with questions. What was my dad doing here? And why had he shown up unannounced? I wondered I strode to my office, my impatience growing with each step. What was my dad doing here? He'd been a ghost since the accident, issuing orders without explanation. And now, suddenly, he was sitting in my office? The elevator doors slid open, revealing the hallway that led to my office. I quickened my pace, Ava trailing behind me. "Wait here," I ordered, pushing open the door to my office. My dad sat behind my desk, his eyes locking onto mine. For a moment, we just stared at each other. His expression was soft, uncharacteristically gentle. "Hey, son," he said, his voice low and gravelly. I narrowed my eyes, my tone stern. "What are you doing here, Dad?" He raised an eyebrow, a hint of surprise on his face. "Is that how you greet your father?" he replied, his voice tinged with disappointment. I cut him off, my words tumbling out in a rush. "Don't... don't do this, Dad. What do you want?" I demanded, my patience wearing thin. My dad's expression turned serious, his eyes clouding over. "I'm leaving the city for a while, Son," he announced, his voice firm. I felt like I'd been punched in the gut. "What do you mean you're leaving? After everything that's going on right now?" I asked, incredulous. 'Listen…" he opened his mouth to speak, but I cut him off. "No, Dad, you listen to me," I said, my voice rising. "You've been ghosting everyone since the accident. You show up at every crime scene without explanation. And now, all you can tell me is that you're leaving?" My dad's eyes dropped, his shoulders sagging in defeat. "Son..." he began. But I wasn't having it. "Don't ever call me that," I spat, my anger boiling over. "You lost that right the minute I held Sandra on her deathbed." My dad's head bowed, his eyes filled with remorse. "It's not entirely my fault, Aiden," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Could you at least trust me on this one? I promise to return with all the answers you need." I scoffed, my laughter bitter. "Trust you? Did you just talk about trust?" I replied, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "Let me give you a recap, Dad. Do you remember how I trusted you until you brought those business partners with their 'brilliant idea' that turned our lives into a mess?" I spat 'Or how I trusted you and got married because of your relentless blackmail, now see how everything is turning out for me?" I spat, my voice venomous. 'Or was it how I trusted you, and it led to the death of your own daughter, my sister?" I spat, the words tasting bitter in my mouth. I glared at my dad, my emotions raging like a stormy sea. My chest heaved with each ragged breath, my heart pounding in my chest. I felt like I was drowning in a sea of anger, hurt, and betrayal. My dad's eyes locked onto mine, filled with a deep sadness and regret. But I didn't care. I was beyond consolation. We stood there, frozen in time, our eyes screaming unspoken words. 'Should I go on, Dad?" I hissed, my voice low and menacing. The air was thick with tension, heavy with the weight of our unspoken emotions.