KAEL
We dressed without a word.
Aria chose a simple but elegant navy dress that hugged her figure without being provocative. Professional. Appropriate for whatever circus my father had orchestrated.
I tugged on a dark suit, glanced at my reflection, and found her eyes already fixed on me.
"Ready?" I asked.
She gave a single nod, but the rigid line of her shoulders betrayed her.
The drive to Roman Holdings passed in a vacuum of sound. The headquarters stabbed into the sky ahead, fifty floors of steel and reflective glass in the financial district's core. A fortress. A cage. A testament to everything my family built.
And swarming with media.
They clustered like insects. Satellite vans. Camera lenses catching the morning light. A chorus of shouted questions waiting for a victim.
I stopped the car a short distance away, my teeth grinding together at the sight.
"You can stay here," I told Aria, turning to her. "If this is too much—"
