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Chapter Thirty-Nine
DerniĂšre mise Ă jour:
2025-03-27 23:50:46
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Aretha Hawthorne: The Rise Of The Phoenix   Chapter Forty
đđ«đđđĄđA wide grin stretches across my face as I jog down the grand staircase, my bare feet barely making a sound against the polished marble floors. The early afternoon sun filters through the massive windows, casting warm golden streaks across the foyer. My heart leaps with excitement as I reach the heavy oak doors, already knowing whoâs on the other side.The second I swing them open, Yemaya stands there, one foot tapping impatiently on the porch, her hands dramatically placed on her hips. But the moment she takes in the sight of me, her expression morphs into pure delight."Aretha," she breathes, pushing her large, round glasses up the bridge of her nose. "This house is insane."I roll my eyes playfully and step aside to let her in. "Come on, it's just a house.""Itâs not just a house," Yemaya corrects, stepping over the threshold. She lets out a low whistle as her gaze sweeps over the grand chandeliers, the sweeping staircase, and the towering floor-to-ceiling windows that
DerniÚre mise à jour : 2025-03-28Aretha Hawthorne: The Rise Of The Phoenix   Chapter Forty-One
đđ«đđđĄđThe vibrant hum of London's nightlife still lingers in my ears as Yemaya and I step into the grand entrance of the high-end shopping mall. The rooftop lounge in Knightsbridge had been a fantastic escapeâelegant cocktails, a breathtaking view, and the lively chatter of Londonâs eliteâbut of course, Yemaya wasnât satisfied with just that. Sheâd insisted that I needed a wardrobe upgrade, especially now that I would be stepping into the role of CEO.âYouâre the face of an empire now, babe,â she says, linking her arm with mine as we stroll into the gleaming, chandelier-lit atrium of the shopping mall. âYou need to dress the part. No more âcasual chic.â Weâre talking power dressingâsexy, corporate, intimidating.âI sigh, more amused than annoyed. âYou mean uncomfortable, stiff, and overpriced?âYemaya gasps dramatically, clutching her chest as if Iâve wounded her. âSacrilege! Youâre going to thank me when heads turn at board meetings.âI let her pull me deeper into the maze of
DerniÚre mise à jour : 2025-03-29Aretha Hawthorne: The Rise Of The Phoenix   Chapter Forty-Two
đđ«đđđĄđI really couldn't have wished for a longer weekend. Despite the whirlwind of drama and activities the past few days had been with Yemaya's visit, I would have given anything to prolong the weekend and to delay today from arriving just a bit longer. Because now, it's Monday morning, which is officially my first day at GemsThorne. My first day stepping into a world I never imagined I'd ever be a part of.And even though I'd spent the past couple of weeks preparing for my presentation and by extension, my induction as the CEO of GemsThorne following the success of our partnership deal with Lancaster Luxe, the anxiety continues to eat away at me while I can't help but fret over this day finally arriving. Nerves coil tightly in my stomach, a relentless storm of self-doubt swirling despite the many times Iâve chided myself for feeling this way even after all the encouragement from my family. I stand before the mirror, smoothing invisible wrinkles from my crisp white button-dow
DerniÚre mise à jour : 2025-03-30Aretha Hawthorne: The Rise Of The Phoenix   Chapter Forty-Three
đđ«đđđĄđThe 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 earlierâRistorante 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
DerniÚre mise à jour : 2025-03-31Aretha Hawthorne: The Rise Of The Phoenix   Chapter Forty-Four
đđ«đđđĄđMarcosâs 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.âAlright, deny it then,â I say, my voice laced with a challenge. âDeny that it wasnât just my appearance that caught your attention at first sight.âHis lips curve up in a tiny smile, but his eyes remain unreadable. âIs that what you think?ââIt's what you and I both know,â I counter, leaning back in my seat. âYou 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.âMarcos studies me, fingers tapping idly against his glass. âWell, you came across as a direct and blunt woman,â he finally says. âYou didn't just sit back and let things happen. And you didnât give in easily.âI arch a brow. âSo, what? You like a challenge then?âHe exhales a quiet chuckle. âPartially. But itâs much more than that.â Then
DerniÚre mise à jour : 2025-03-31Aretha Hawthorne: The Rise Of The Phoenix   Chapter Forty-Five
đđ«đđđĄđAlone in my office, I focus on the project Iâm currently working on with Cameronâs 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 hotelâs interior. Not just for opulenceâbut 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
DerniÚre mise à jour : 2025-03-31Aretha Hawthorne: The Rise Of The Phoenix   Chapter Forty-Six
đđ«đđđĄđI 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 canât 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. Stellaâs smug, knowing smile. Danielâs 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 doesnât 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
DerniÚre mise à jour : 2025-03-31Aretha Hawthorne: The Rise Of The Phoenix   Chapter Forty-Seven
đđđ«đđšđŹThe 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 silenceâcalm, 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. âScalpel.âDr. 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 isnât the time for distractions.âHere,â she murmurs, her voice low, smooth, as if we arenât elbows-deep in someoneâs 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
DerniĂšre mise Ă jour : 2025-03-31
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Aretha Hawthorne: The Rise Of The Phoenix   Chapter Sixty-Nine
đđđŠđđ«đšđ§Everything 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 isnât the Barsamian mansion where we had the last meetingâitâs 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, Iâm not that foolish.A second vehicle trails behind, discreet and distantâmy 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
đđđŠđđ«đšđ§The moment I shut the door to my suite, I loosen my collar and finally let the smile fall from my face.Iâve been wearing it like armor all dayâthrough 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 garbageâŠThat 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.âHey,â I say when my marketing manager answers. âI need you to pull up alternatives. If the Barsamians donât get back to us, we need other options for that stone.ââYouâre thinking theyâll back out?ââIâm thinking their prince of a son might poison the whole deal. I just want to be ready.âWe talk logistics, pro
Aretha Hawthorne: The Rise Of The Phoenix   Chapter Sixty-Seven
đđ«đđđĄđThe 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 byâstone 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 Iâd 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. âYo
Aretha Hawthorne: The Rise Of The Phoenix   Chapter Sixty-Six
đđ«đđđĄđBy the time we arrive, the estate looks like something out of an oil paintingâornate 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 havenât 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.Sheâs nothing like I expected.Older, yes, with the kind of face carved by time and quiet power, but thereâs 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 youâre the one being examined.âMr. Lancaster,â she says to Cameron, voice low and smooth like aged whiskey. âAnd MissâŠââHawthorne,â I offer with a polite smile, extending my hand. She doesnât take it. She j
Aretha Hawthorne: The Rise Of The Phoenix   Chapter Sixty-Five
đđ«đđđĄđThe door slams shut behind him.Cameron is gone.And Iâm 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 themâCameronâs 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 driverâs 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
đđđŠđđ«đšđ§The 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 Barsamiansâhow 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.âWhat?â I ask, smiling. âYouâre staring.ââIâm calculating.ââCalculating what?â I stretch my arm along the back of her seat, not touching her but close enough that her hair brushes my fingers.âWhether this trip is worth enduring your company for another forty-eight hours.ââOuch.â I clutch my chest with exaggerated pain. âYou wound me. And here I thought we were starting to bond.ââI donât bond with trouble.ââYou sat next to me. That makes you complicit.âShe snorts and turns back
Aretha Hawthorne: The Rise Of The Phoenix   Chapter Sixty-Three
đđ«đđđĄđYerevan 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 modernâa city made of stone, sky, and silent stories.Several hours after we land, I expect weâd be whisked straight to our client. Thatâs what I signed up for. Business. Strictly business.Instead, we end up checking into a hotel nestled in the city centerâa 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 Cameronâs 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.âWhy are we here?â I demand, arms crossed. âI meanâhere, at a hotel? Shouldnât we be heading to the clientâs estate or... at least contacting them?âCameronâs smile is entirely too relaxed for
Aretha Hawthorne: The Rise Of The Phoenix   Chapter Sixty-Two
đđ«đđđĄđThe airport is already buzzing when I arriveâsuitcase 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 Cameronâs smug face, the glint in his eyes when he said âIâll take that as a yes.â It irritated me more than I care to admit.Still, Iâm here. Against my better judgment, Iâm 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 exactâdown to the centâof my flight ticket.What theâŠ?I spin around and march to the nearest cashier window. âHi, sorryâcan I ask about a refund I just received? I donât remember requesting one.âThe woman behind the glass taps a few keys on her terminal, blinking at her monitor. âYes, maâam. It says here the refund was requested and approved on your behalf.ââBy who?âI hear it before I see it.âWell, well,â comes a dr
Aretha Hawthorne: The Rise Of The Phoenix   Chapter Sixty-One
đđ«đđđĄđIâm still in Marcusâs 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 awkwardâhell, it isâbut 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. Theyâre parted, breathless from cheering. Thereâs a softness there. A dangerous invitation. And IâIâm 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, âWeâre just friends, remember?âItâs like cold water on heated skin. My smile is tight, reluctant as I pull away. âRight. Just friends.âWe fall back into our seats, cheering as the team does their victory lap, but the electric charge between us doesnât fade. Not entirely. Every bru
