Page 84 of Unravelling: Aria & Crispin
"Huh?"
"Aria's. What is her full name?"
"Aria Bektashi."
"Sister?"
"Lule. Same surname...I think."
"She's not married, right? "
Crispin shook his head.
"So, she lives in Oxford. One-bedroom apartment, right? You said she's got a boyfriend?"
Crispin's jaw tightened. "Indian origin chap. Very clever, I think. His name is Rahul. I don't know his last name. He has a start-up that is doing well. Some tech stuff."
"Start-up in what?"
"I think...cybersecurity."
"Right. Let's start there."
Dorian opened his laptop and began typing. "Cybersecurity startup, Oxford, founder Rahul..."
The screen lit up with smiling headshots. Crispin leaned forward, breath catching.
"That's him," he said hoarsely, pointing to an unsmiling, handsome face. "That's him."
Dorian leaned forward to peer at the screen, then gave Crispin a sidelong glance.
"You know," he said, not unkindly, "even if Aria does take you back, you might want to give her a warning first. You look like you crawled out of a ditch. She wouldn't recognise you."
Crispin didn't rise to the bait. He simply rubbed at his jaw, eyes still locked on the image.
Another search brought up Rahul's Facebook. And there, Lule was tagged in the photos. One of them showed her holding hands with Rahul, smiling. Another post of two women standing on the steps of a modest apartment building. One vaguely familiar, the other one beloved. The street name was visible on a plaque right behind them.
"Bingo," Dorian murmured before pressing print.
Crispin was already on his feet, keys in hand. He tossed them to Dorian. "You're driving."
Dorian raised an eyebrow. "And what exactly is the plan when we get there?"
Crispin's voice was steel. "Find her."
Dorian raised his eyebrows. "You want me to come along? She may run screaming for the woods if she sees me."
Crispin was already shrugging his coat on. "You owe me. Besides, I am in no shape to drive."
Later, when they were speeding down the M40 at well above the speed limit, Dorian turned the music down. "Alright. Indulge me. What does it feel like?"
"What?" asked Crispin. Now that they had a good lead, he was already strategizing the next steps in his head.
"To feel like this," Dorian said quietly. "This desperation."
Crispin blinked, taken off guard. Dorian was one of the worst man-whores in existence. He went through women like he changed his bespoke Oxford shirts. For a moment, he looked like he might scoff, but something faltered in his expression. He set the coffee down in the holder and loosely clasped his hands.
"It's not...dramatic," he said slowly. "It's more like swimming with the current. It's like, when I am with her, I could leave all the chaos outside the door. My shoulders didn't ache from holding myself up. I could just...be. There were no games, no proving myself. She didn't care who my father is or how much I was worth."
