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Chapter Forty-Two
Last Updated:
2025-03-30 23:49:37
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Aretha Hawthorne: The Rise Of The Phoenix Chapter Forty-Three
𝐀𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐚The morning goes by quickly, and before I know it, it's time for my lunch break.Craving a much-needed breath of fresh air away from all the expectant stares and thinly-veiled bootlicking I have already started receiving from some of the employees amidst walking around the vast building as well as all the names and executive positions I'd have to remember, I decide to head somewhere a bit distant from GemsThorne. My personal driver drops me off at the restaurant my personal assistant, Winifred, had recommended earlier—Ristorante Celeste, a quiet, upscale Mediterranean restaurant nestled in the heart of corporate London. The restaurant exudes an effortless blend of elegance and warmth, with soft golden lighting, terracotta walls adorned with delicate mosaic patterns, and large arched windows that let in streams of natural light. The air carries the tantalizing aroma of olive oil, fresh herbs, and slow-simmered sauces, promising a dining experience that is both refined and
Last Updated : 2025-03-31Aretha Hawthorne: The Rise Of The Phoenix Chapter Forty-Four
𝐀𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐚Marcos’s intense gaze on my face persists as I mull over his question, debating on how much truth I really want to reveal. Finally, I tilt my head, meeting his stare head-on.“Alright, deny it then,” I say, my voice laced with a challenge. “Deny that it wasn’t just my appearance that caught your attention at first sight.”His lips curve up in a tiny smile, but his eyes remain unreadable. “Is that what you think?”“It's what you and I both know,” I counter, leaning back in my seat. “You said you value character over beauty, right? So then, you should be able to easily deny that your attraction to me didn't stem from my physical features.”Marcos studies me, fingers tapping idly against his glass. “Well, you came across as a direct and blunt woman,” he finally says. “You didn't just sit back and let things happen. And you didn’t give in easily.”I arch a brow. “So, what? You like a challenge then?”He exhales a quiet chuckle. “Partially. But it’s much more than that.” Then
Last Updated : 2025-03-31Aretha Hawthorne: The Rise Of The Phoenix Chapter Forty-Five
𝐀𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐚Alone in my office, I focus on the project I’m currently working on with Cameron’s company. The blueprints are spread out across my office desk, a meticulously arranged chaos of detailed sketches, notes, and material samples. The sheer scale of the design demands my full attention, every inch of available space covered in drafts and annotations.I run my fingers over the smooth edges of the jewel samples placed beside the building interior layout, mentally piecing together how each element will weave into the final aesthetic of the hotel’s interior. Not just for opulence—but for atmosphere, and for presence. The way the light would refract off the polished gemstones embedded in the marble-tiled floors, casting a subtle shimmer that whispers the luxury rather than screams it. The soft, understated accents on furniture that would add dimension without overwhelming. The deliberate placement of crystal in the chandeliers, catching and bending light to create a warm, inviting
Last Updated : 2025-03-31Aretha Hawthorne: The Rise Of The Phoenix Chapter Forty-Six
𝐀𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐚I wake up with a jolt, my breath coming in sharp, uneven gasps. The room is dark, but the nightmare lingers, burning behind my eyes like an after-image I can’t blink away. My chest tightens, my pulse hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs, each beat a cruel echo of the fear still curling around my spine.I can still see them. Stella’s smug, knowing smile. Daniel’s cold, detached stare. The cruel laughter of those who reveled in my humiliation. Their voices slither through my mind, sharp as glass, slicing through the thin veil between past and present. It was just a dream. But it doesn’t feel like one.The air in my bedroom suddenly feels suffocating. I shove the damp sheets aside, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed, my bare feet meeting the cold floor. Ground yourself. Breathe. I squeeze my eyes shut and press the heels of my hands against them, as if that alone could drive the memories away. But they refuse to fade, lurking like shadows just out of reach.How l
Last Updated : 2025-03-31Aretha Hawthorne: The Rise Of The Phoenix Chapter Forty-Seven
𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐨𝐬The harsh, sterile glow of the overhead lights bathes the operating room in an almost surreal brightness, casting sharp shadows on the masked faces surrounding the table. The steady beeping of the heart monitor fills the silence—calm, rhythmic, an ever-present reminder that life still clings beneath my scalpel.This moment, this weight of precision and control, is what I live for.I exhale slowly, steadying my grip. “Scalpel.”Dr. Harriet, standing to my right, responds instantly, placing it in my waiting palm. Her gloved fingers brush against mine, the touch lingering for half a second too long. A deliberate move? Maybe. But now isn’t the time for distractions.“Here,” she murmurs, her voice low, smooth, as if we aren’t elbows-deep in someone’s open abdomen.I ignore it. Focus is everything.The blade glides along the marked line, parting skin and muscle with practiced ease. The scent of antiseptic thickens as suction whirs, keeping the field clear. Beneath layers of tis
Last Updated : 2025-03-31Aretha Hawthorne: The Rise Of The Phoenix Chapter Forty-Eight
𝐀𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐚The weekend has arrived once more, but this time, I’d decided to spend it with my best friend, Yemaya, at the apartment we used to share just a couple of months ago while I had worked at The Gilded Stag restaurant. I figured it was high time I returned for a visit, especially since just the week before, she had come to visit me at my parents' mansion and had spent the entire weekend there. Besides, there’s a certain comfort in being back here, in a space filled with memories of late-night gossip, spontaneous dance-offs, and shared struggles. And just to admit it, I had missed my best friend despite being doted on and surrounded by my loving family. Because no one can ever take her place in my life no matter what.And now on this Saturday afternoon, the two of us are craving something sweet, and since Yemaya is the one between the two of us who actually enjoys cooking and baking, she’s taken charge of baking us some Eccles cakes—a British pastry filled with spiced currant
Last Updated : 2025-03-31Aretha Hawthorne: The Rise Of The Phoenix Chapter Forty-Nine
𝐀𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐚The memory of Harriet pressing her lips too close to the corners of Marcos' mouth replays in my mind like a bitter melody I can’t turn off. The way she clung to him, the possessiveness in her gaze, and how he hadn’t outright rejected her touch—it all festers inside me, an emotion I refuse to name. It shouldn’t matter. It doesn’t matter.But it does.And that alone infuriates me.I should have known better. I should have learned my lesson after Daniel, after the years I wasted believing in a love that was nothing but a mirage. Marcos might not be Daniel, but that doesn’t mean I should entertain the idea of him any longer. The moment I saw him with another woman—saw him let her touch him like that—I should have let every foolish inclination I had towards him die on the spot.So I do what I must—I bury myself in work, throwing myself into tasks that keep my hands busy and my mind even busier. I stop going into the office unless absolutely necessary, opting for virtual meetin
Last Updated : 2025-03-31Aretha Hawthorne: The Rise Of The Phoenix Chapter Fifty
𝐀𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐚The news is everywhere.Tabloids, newspapers, hushed conversations in hotel lobbies and high-end restaurants. My name, my face, my supposed triumph—spread across the city like wildfire.The lost daughter, now officially found. The hidden gem, finally unveiled.I try not to let it get to me.I bury myself in work, tell myself this is what I wanted—what I’ve been preparing for. And for the most part, I believe it. I tell myself I’ve moved past the distractions of Marcus and Cameron, that they no longer occupy space in my mind. That my focus is solely on the company and my role within it.But the illusion only lasts until the night of my father’s party.A grand affair, of course. My father doesn’t do anything half-heartedly. The ballroom is adorned in gold and ivory, chandeliers dripping with light, the scent of expensive champagne and wealth hanging thick in the air.Dignitaries, business moguls, and high-profile figures mill about, exchanging pleasantries, shaking hands, w
Last Updated : 2025-03-31
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Aretha Hawthorne: The Rise Of The Phoenix Chapter Sixty-Nine
𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧Everything about this meeting screams a trap.I sit in the backseat of a nondescript black SUV, eyes trained on the quiet stretch of road as we drive out of the city. The address I was given isn’t the Barsamian mansion where we had the last meeting—it’s a guesthouse tucked into the outskirts of a neighboring city. That alone is a red flag. But what makes it worse is that I was explicitly asked to come alone.Of course, I’m not that foolish.A second vehicle trails behind, discreet and distant—my hired security detail, professionals I trust with my life. I keep my phone in my hand the entire ride, fingers tapping idly against the screen, sending occasional location updates to my manager just in case.Because this? This feels like the kind of story that ends in a disappearance headline.The guesthouse is impressive in a quiet, understated way. Rustic wood beams, a sweeping stone terrace, and tall windows that reflect the gray morning sky. Inside, it smells like lavender a
Aretha Hawthorne: The Rise Of The Phoenix Chapter Sixty-Eight
𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧The moment I shut the door to my suite, I loosen my collar and finally let the smile fall from my face.I’ve been wearing it like armor all day—through the suffocating politeness, the backhanded compliments, the curt dismissal of logic from a spoilt heir with too much money and too little sense. The matriarch was composed, yes. Graceful even. But her silence when her son spat that sexist garbage…That silence said more than I liked.I sink into the armchair by the window, the city of Yerevan sprawled beneath me like a glittering mosaic. I should let it go. But the tension stays, coiled tight between my shoulder blades.With a sigh, I reach for my phone and dial.“Hey,” I say when my marketing manager answers. “I need you to pull up alternatives. If the Barsamians don’t get back to us, we need other options for that stone.”“You’re thinking they’ll back out?”“I’m thinking their prince of a son might poison the whole deal. I just want to be ready.”We talk logistics, pro
Aretha Hawthorne: The Rise Of The Phoenix Chapter Sixty-Seven
𝐀𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐚The car ride back to the hotel is quiet.Not awkward. Not tense.Just… still.Cameron alternates between texting on his phone and staring out the window, one of his arms draped over the backseat with his fingers tapping out a silent rhythm against the leather. I watch the landscape blur by—stone buildings and narrow alleyways, ancient churches perched atop hills. The sky is beginning to burn orange at the edges, and for the first time all day, I feel the adrenaline ebb from my body like a tide retreating after a storm.I messed things up. I know I did.But I’d do it again in a heartbeat.We enter the hotel lobby without a word, both of us nodding politely to the concierge who greets us. The golden glow of the chandeliers bathes the space in warmth, but I feel anything but. My shoulders are still tight, my hands still restless.We step into the elevator together, side by side. The polished gold doors slide shut, enclosing us in a gentle hum of silence.I glance at him. “Yo
Aretha Hawthorne: The Rise Of The Phoenix Chapter Sixty-Six
𝐀𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐚By the time we arrive, the estate looks like something out of an oil painting—ornate gates, lush grounds, cobblestone paths winding toward a home that could easily double as a museum. The sky has softened into a lazy afternoon haze, and I still haven’t fully shaken the image of that gun pointed at our driver. But Cameron and I are both dressed in our game faces now, and like good little liars, we smile.A housekeeper ushers us into a sitting room where the matriarch waits.She’s nothing like I expected.Older, yes, with the kind of face carved by time and quiet power, but there’s nothing soft about her. Her posture is steel, her eyes sharp behind thin, gold-rimmed glasses. She wears a high-necked black dress and sits with the kind of stillness that makes you feel like you’re the one being examined.“Mr. Lancaster,” she says to Cameron, voice low and smooth like aged whiskey. “And Miss…”“Hawthorne,” I offer with a polite smile, extending my hand. She doesn’t take it. She j
Aretha Hawthorne: The Rise Of The Phoenix Chapter Sixty-Five
𝐀𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐚The door slams shut behind him.Cameron is gone.And I’m frozen.My pulse hammers so loud I can barely hear the silence that follows. That kind of silence that only exists when something horrible is about to happen. The kind that makes your stomach twist and your lungs forget how to breathe.I press a hand to my chest, trying to ground myself, but the cold leather of the seat beneath me feels more surreal than comforting.Outside, I can see them—Cameron’s tall frame moving like a slow fuse toward a man with a gun. A gun. Pointed directly at our driver, who still stands with his hands raised, eyes wide and pleading. The wind catches the hem of the driver’s jacket, and for a second, he just looks so human. So fragile.I curse under my breath and lean forward to get a better view. My fingers grip the edge of the headrest so tight they ache.What the hell is going on?This was supposed to be a business trip. Silk deals, rare jewels, Cameron flirting too much and me pretending
Aretha Hawthorne: The Rise Of The Phoenix Chapter Sixty-Four
𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧The next morning, we hit the road.Our driver, an older man with warm eyes and an encyclopedic knowledge of Armenian history, doubles as a tour guide. As the SUV glides through the countryside, he tells us about the Barsamians—how their lineage traces back centuries, how they built an empire from silk and spice and sheer force of will.Aretha listens, chin resting in her palm, her gaze drifting between the window and me. I catch her watching me from the corner of her eye for the fifth time.“What?” I ask, smiling. “You’re staring.”“I’m calculating.”“Calculating what?” I stretch my arm along the back of her seat, not touching her but close enough that her hair brushes my fingers.“Whether this trip is worth enduring your company for another forty-eight hours.”“Ouch.” I clutch my chest with exaggerated pain. “You wound me. And here I thought we were starting to bond.”“I don’t bond with trouble.”“You sat next to me. That makes you complicit.”She snorts and turns back
Aretha Hawthorne: The Rise Of The Phoenix Chapter Sixty-Three
𝐀𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐚Yerevan greets us with a soft haze over the mountains and the thick warmth of afternoon sun pressing against the tarmac. The capital feels like a secret whispered between the ancient and the modern—a city made of stone, sky, and silent stories.Several hours after we land, I expect we’d be whisked straight to our client. That’s what I signed up for. Business. Strictly business.Instead, we end up checking into a hotel nestled in the city center—a luxury boutique place that smells faintly of rosewater and cedar. I wheel my suitcase into a suite that could easily host a cocktail party, then march back out toward Cameron’s room, irritation simmering just under my skin.He opens the door already dressed in a crisp linen shirt and slacks, smelling like something expensive and maddening.“Why are we here?” I demand, arms crossed. “I mean—here, at a hotel? Shouldn’t we be heading to the client’s estate or... at least contacting them?”Cameron’s smile is entirely too relaxed for
Aretha Hawthorne: The Rise Of The Phoenix Chapter Sixty-Two
𝐀𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐚The airport is already buzzing when I arrive—suitcase in hand, coat slung over my arm, and a knot of mild anxiety sitting in my chest. I barely slept last night. My thoughts kept circling back to Cameron’s smug face, the glint in his eyes when he said “I’ll take that as a yes.” It irritated me more than I care to admit.Still, I’m here. Against my better judgment, I’m here.I pull out my phone to check my itinerary again when a sharp ding draws my attention. A new notification.My brows knit together as I stare at the screen.A credit alert?The amount is exact—down to the cent—of my flight ticket.What the…?I spin around and march to the nearest cashier window. “Hi, sorry—can I ask about a refund I just received? I don’t remember requesting one.”The woman behind the glass taps a few keys on her terminal, blinking at her monitor. “Yes, ma’am. It says here the refund was requested and approved on your behalf.”“By who?”I hear it before I see it.“Well, well,” comes a dr
Aretha Hawthorne: The Rise Of The Phoenix Chapter Sixty-One
𝐀𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐚I’m still in Marcus’s arms, chest to chest, as the crowd roars around us in a frenzy of triumph. My pulse hammers in time with the chant echoing through the stadium. His hands are firm against my waist, anchoring me, while mine are curled around his shoulders, refusing to let go. It should be awkward—hell, it is—but in this bubble of noise and adrenaline, nothing else exists. Just us. Just this moment.Then I feel it.A shift.My eyes flicker down to his lips. They’re parted, breathless from cheering. There’s a softness there. A dangerous invitation. And I—I’m not thinking pure thoughts. At all. I want to kiss him. God, I want to kiss him.But his voice breaks through the haze, low and amused, “We’re just friends, remember?”It’s like cold water on heated skin. My smile is tight, reluctant as I pull away. “Right. Just friends.”We fall back into our seats, cheering as the team does their victory lap, but the electric charge between us doesn’t fade. Not entirely. Every bru
