Next Afternoon...
Blake Corporation – Ayden's Office
Ayden sat behind his desk, flipping through files when his office door opened.
He didn't look up.
Only two people knew the password to his office door—and that meant it could only be one of them.
Or both.
"What are you two doing here?" he asked flatly, eyes still on the papers in front of him.
"Where are your manners, man?" Adrian said, walking in. "You could at least say hello."
"If you're waiting for this devil to welcome you," Xander muttered as he flopped onto the couch, "you'll stand there until you trip over your own pride."
Without warning, Ayden pulled a pocket knife from his drawer and hurled it across the room toward Xander.
It missed his eye by inches, slicing through the air and embedding itself in the couch just as Xander ducked.
"Holy shit! That was close!" Adrian exclaimed, laughing nervously.
"Does this look funny to you?" Xander snapped, turning to glare at Adrian.
"Sorry, man," Adrian chuckled, trying to suppress a grin.
Ayden remained cold and unbothered.
"You could've gotten it fixed," he said dryly.
"Shut the fuck up, Ayden," Xander growled, cutting him off.
"Oops. My bad." Ayden smirked.
Adrian shot him a warning look before settling into a chair. "Don't try that shit with me."
"Do you think Eden would be happy if anything happened to me?" Xander continued, still angry.
Ayden's expression darkened.
"Keep my sister's name out of your fucking mouth."
The coldness in his voice made Xander pause.
He knew that look.
He also knew Ayden was still against his relationship with Eden. Ayden had tried everything to break them apart—intimidation, interference, threats—but Eden was stubborn. Unshaken. And deeply in love with Xander.
"Why can't you just let them be?" Adrian asked quietly.
"If you make my sister cry," Ayden said slowly, setting his file down, "I'll make you beg for death."
"Is that your way of saying you approve?" Adrian teased.
"Adrian, shut the hell up," Ayden and Xander snapped in unison.
"I'm just happy for you, bro," Ayden muttered.
Xander glanced at him. "Thanks, man. For real."
"You know I don't joke with my words," Ayden said, leaning back.
"But what if she makes me cry instead?" Xander asked with an innocent expression.
"Then you deserve it," Ayden replied.
"Not fair," Xander pouted, settling across from him.
They sat in silence for a moment before Xander broke it.
"So... have you found your woman yet?" he asked casually.
Ayden's face hardened. "She's not my woman. I was never looking for her."
Adrian and Xander exchanged glances.
"Stop lying to yourself," Xander said. "You haven't gotten over that night."
"And what makes you think that?" Ayden asked, voice cold and flat.
"Your face. Your mood. Your behavior for the past three weeks," Adrian said.
"Shut up, Adrian," Xander snapped. "You've been weird too lately."
"Mine's different," Adrian replied. "We didn't hook up. She got drunk, I helped her to my place, and that was all."
"Have you touched any girl since that night?" Xander asked Ayden pointedly.
"I—You—Look, the thing is—Whatever."
Xander smirked. "Exactly."
"Asshole," Adrian muttered at Xander.
Xander ignored him. He turned to Ayden. "You said she was a friend of Adrian's girl, and Adrian's driver dropped her off. If we find one, we'll find the other."
"SHE'S NOT MY WOMAN!" Ayden and Adrian said at the same time.
"She's your woman whether you like it or not," Xander said, pointing at both of them.
Then he turned back to Ayden.
"What happened that night was a mistake," Ayden said, his tone rising. "I was drugged. Why can't you get that?"
"NO, AYDEN!" Xander shouted, standing to his feet. "This isn't about you being drugged or whether that night was a mistake. This is about her."
Ayden's jaw clenched.
"You're not taking responsibility because you're still stuck in the past," Xander continued. "You're still waiting for her to come back. You're still in love with Angela."
"Xander, stop," Adrian said quickly, trying to de-escalate.
"No, I won't stop!" Xander said furiously. "It's been three years, Ayden! You proposed because Angela wanted marriage—not you. You weren't ready, but you tried because you thought love was enough. Then what did she do?"
Silence.
"She left you. On your engagement day. She didn't even show up. All you got was a damn note. I still remember every word on it."
Ayden's hands tightened into fists.
"She left because your company was struggling. She didn't want a man who was falling. She left you humiliated, heartbroken, and nearly suicidal."
Xander stepped closer.
"And now, instead of owning up to what happened that night—after taking a woman's innocence—you tossed her money like she was Angela. You really think every woman's like that?"
Ayden stood up slowly and placed a gun on Xander's forehead.
"Shut. The fuck. Up."
"Put the gun down, Ayden," Adrian said calmly, stepping closer.
"Let him shoot me," Xander said fearlessly, not flinching. "Maybe then he'll face the truth."
"Xander, shut up," Adrian warned. "Ayden, drop the gun. Now."
"GET OUT," Ayden growled.
Adrian quickly moved to Xander's side. "Come on. Let's go."
As they walked toward the door, Xander turned around one last time.
"If Angela ever comes back into your life," he said darkly, "don't let me see her. Because if I do, I'll kill her. And your family will support me."
"GET OUT!" Ayden shouted again.
Adrian dragged Xander out of the office.
The moment the door closed, Ayden's hand trembled. The gun fell from his grip.
He slumped back into his chair and pulled open a drawer.
Inside was an old photograph.
Angela's face smiled back at him.
His jaw tightened.
He stared at it—haunted—then picked up a lighter, lit it, and held it to the picture.
The flame ate through the paper slowly.
"I'll kill you myself," he whispered coldly, tossing the burning photo into the trash.