Chapter 1: Why Not Madison?

Aria's POV

I'm standing at the floor-to-ceiling windows of CrossBennett Ventures, watching the Manhattan skyline.

This office. Ethan and I designed it together. Everything from the carpet color to negotiating the lease. We were partners in every sense of the word.

Back then, I thought we'd always be partners.

Fucking naive.

"Aria, we need to talk."

Ethan's voice comes from behind me. I turn around slowly. He's sitting at that oak desk, the one he gave me for my twenty-fifth birthday. Said it was "for the future co-CEO."

Now there's a photo of Madison on it.

When did that happen? How did I not notice?

"Talk about what?" I lean against the window, arms crossed.

He hesitates. Ethan never hesitates. I've known him for twenty years, since we were seven at that summer camp in the Hamptons. I know every expression, every pause.

This pause means he's about to say something even he knows is wrong.

"The Valentino situation..." He starts. "It's worse than I thought."

"I know." I keep my voice flat. "You took that Brooklyn development project right out from under them. Poached three of their partners. Dante Valentino isn't the type to let that slide."

"Right. So I've been thinking..." He stands up, walks toward me. "Maybe we can handle this differently."

I watch him. Wait.

"Could you..." He takes a breath. "Approach him? Dante Valentino. Use your charm, your intelligence, get him to—"

"You're asking me to seduce him?"

"Not seduce! Just...strategic engagement. You know, business networking, relationship building—"

"Ethan." I cut him off. "You have a secretary. Isn't Madison better at this kind of strategic engagement? I've seen her work clients at dinners."

His face changes. "Madison isn't right for this."

"Why not?"

"She's..." He looks away. "Too young. She doesn't have your...finesse."

Finesse.

What a pretty word for it.

I almost laugh. Let me translate what Ethan really means: Madison is too precious to risk. But me? I'm just a tool. The disposable kind.

How did we get here?

I remember being seven, Ethan sharing his ice cream with me after mine fell on the ground. I remember sixteen, writing our first business plan in his garage at three in the morning. I remember twenty-three, getting our first funding round, him spinning me around saying "We did it, Aria! We fucking did it!"

I remember falling in love with him. Every moment of it.

I also remember him falling for Madison. Six months ago at the company holiday party. She wore red, smiled at him like sunshine.

Everything changed after that.

Our weekend brunches became "Madison wants to check out this gallery." Our late-night strategy sessions became "Madison needs help with her presentation." Our everything became nothing.

I was just too stupid to stop pretending I didn't see it.

Now he wants me to approach a mafia boss while keeping his little girlfriend safe and sound.

Enough.

"No." I say it simply.

"What?" He looks stunned.

"I said no." I push past him, start grabbing my things from the desk. "Actually, I'm leaving. Keep the company. I don't want any of it."

"Aria, are you crazy? This is our company—"

"No. It's your company." I shove my laptop into my bag. "It became yours the second you put Madison's picture on my desk."

"What are you talking about? Madison and I are just—"

"Save it, Ethan." I finally look at him. Really look at him. "I'm not stupid. I've been waiting for you to tell me yourself. But I'm done waiting."

The color drains from his face. "Aria..."

"Good luck with the Valentinos." I grab my bag. "And with Madison. Hope you're happy."

I head for the door.

"Wait!" He catches my arm. "You can't leave! I need you!"

Need me?

No. He needs my skills, my connections, my ability to clean up his messes.

He never needed me. Just what I could do for him.

I pull away. "Let go, Ethan. We're done."

"Please, just—"

"Done."

I walk out. Twenty years, and it ends in an office we built together.

That night, my phone buzzes.

"One last dinner? We should end this properly."

I shouldn't go. I know I shouldn't.

But twenty years deserves a decent goodbye. At least that's what I tell myself.

The Italian place. Where we had our first date. Of course he'd pick there.

He orders my favorite wine. Pulls out my chair. Plays the part of the perfect gentleman one last time.

"To the good times." He raises his glass.

I drink.

The room starts tilting almost immediately. Ethan's face blurs at the edges.

"Ethan..." I try to stand but my legs won't work. "What did you..."

"I'm sorry, Aria." His voice sounds far away, underwater. "I don't have a choice."

The world goes black.

My last thought before everything disappears:

I'm such a fucking idiot.