Page 53 of Unravelling: Aria & Crispin
She didn't blink.
"And the remaining thirty percent is scattered across board members, loyalists, and distant family. My father clawed his way to the top through all of it. He insisted on changing the company name to his last name. He kept his promises to my grandfather, and I have been carrying on his legacy, trying to prove myself. The company is in a better place, but my mother and father still hold the reins."
Crispin leaned forward. "I've been acting CEO in name only; he still controls the board. He will force me out if I don't do what he wants, and my mother will stand with him. No matter how he hurts her, she will stand with him."
Aria's breath caught, but she didn't look away.
"My father has known about us for god knows how long. If he knows about you, then he knows about your sister and her boyfriend. He probably knows how much money you have in your bank account and what your favourite brand of coffee is. He would find a way to ruin them if it meant punishing you. And me."
That made her eyes widen.
"I'm telling you this because I need time," he said. "Just a few more months. I'll have control of my share, and I can walk away on my own terms."
She stared at him, hands clenched in her lap.
"And I promise you, on everything I am, I've never been unfaithful to you. Not once."
Aria swallowed. She didn't want to trust him, not again and not so easily.
But something in his voice, in his eyes, tugged at the part of her that still remembered what it felt like to be held in his arms like she was precious.
Reluctantly, she nodded.
Crispin let out a quiet breath, as if her silence had been holding him underwater.
"There's one more thing," he said.
She glanced up, guarded.
"There is a trust. I come into it at thirty-five-same age as the company shares. It's...substantial and separate from the business. From my parents, I mean. They can't touch it. And once I have it, I can strike out on my own."
He leaned forward slightly, his voice low and steady. "I'm telling you this because I want you to know I'm all-in, have been for a while. And I would like to salvage what I can for our children. This company has been in my family for generations. That has to mean something..."
Her eyes flicked to the teacup on the table, then back to his face.
She didn't reply right away. Just sat there, her fingers curled around the edge of her mug, eyes on some invisible point just past his shoulder.
Finally, she said, "I need to think about this. You have given me a lot to chew on."
Crispin gave a short nod. "That's the best I can hope for."
She looked at him then, really looked. "But while I think...don't come by. Don't show up at work. Don't try to run into me." Her voice was calm, even. "Just let me think."
There was a beat of silence. Then he nodded reluctantly. "Fair enough."
He didn't say anything else. Maybe he knew that any more would undo whatever fragile thread they'd just managed to tie. His eyes lingered on her face for a breath too long, like he was memorising it, then he turned, walked to the door, and opened it without another word.
The door closed softly behind him.
And Aria was alone again with her thoughts and the faint hum of the kettle, still cooling.
The quiet ache of something unfinished lingered in the air like an unfinished symphony.
Chapter 29
Aria
A faint sense of detachment hung over Aria like a thin layer of fog shadowing her path ahead.
