Knee For Me, CEO

"You’re shaking, Sebastian. Is it the wine, or are you finally seeing ghosts?" The crystal flute in Sebastian Crowne’s hand didn’t shatter, but the wine inside moved. He didn’t turn around. He couldn’t. That voice was a haunting melody he had buried under five years of cold, hard soil and iron bars. It belonged to a woman who was meant to be a memory, a stain on his family’s prestigious history. "Sebastian, darling? Is something wrong?" Isabella’s sharp, polished tone broke the spell. She placed a manicured hand on his arm, her five-carat diamond ring glimmering in the light from the ballroom chandeliers. She looked like the perfect billionaire’s fiancé, but to Sebastian, she felt like a weight dragging him down. He finally turned his head. Standing at the top of the grand staircase was a woman who didn’t belong in this world, yet she looked like she owned it. She wore a gown the color of midnight, silk clinging to her curves like a second skin. Her hair, once wild and long, was now cut into a sharp bob that framed a face of porcelain perfection. But it was the eyes. Those amber eyes that once glowed with warmth and adoration for him were now two chips of frozen honey. "Who is that?" Isabella hissed, her grip tightening on Sebastian’s sleeve. "She wasn't on the VIP list." Sebastian didn’t respond. His throat felt like it was filled with broken glass. Aria Vale was dead. The prison records said she had died in a dynamic infirmary fire three years into her sentence. He had seen the charred documents. He had signed the papers that put her there, and he had signed the papers to close her case for good. The woman began to descend the stairs. Each click of her stiletto heels against the marble sounded like a judge’s gavel striking a desk. The elite of the city, the predators of the financial world, parted for her like the Red Sea. She walked straight up to the man who had destroyed her. "Mr. Crowne," she said. Her voice was smooth, free of the tremor it used to have whenever he leaned in to kiss her. "It’s been a long time." "Aria?" The name slipped out in a choked breath. The woman tilted her head, a small, cruel smile on her lips. "I’m afraid you have me mistaken for someone else. My name is Rose Thorne. CEO of the Thorne Group." A gasp rippled through the crowd. The Thorne Group was the mysterious conglomerate that had been aggressively buying up Crowne Empire stocks for the last six months. They were the wolves at the door. Isabella stepped forward, her face flushed with jealousy and confusion. "I don't care who you are. This is a private celebration of our merger. You haven't been invited." Aria, Rose didn’t even look at Isabella. She kept her gaze locked on Sebastian, watching the way his pulse jumped in his neck. She knew that pulse. She used to put her ear against his chest and listen to it like a lullaby. Now, it was just a target. "Actually, Isabella," Aria said, using the woman’s name with a terrifying familiarity, "I own forty percent of the debt this merger was built on. Technically, I own the floor you’re standing on. So, if anyone is leaving, it might be the person who can’t pay her jewelry bills." Isabella’s mouth fell open. She looked to Sebastian for protection, but Sebastian was staring at Aria as if he were trying to see through her skin to the girl he once loved. "You died," Sebastian whispered, his voice breaking. "I saw the report." Aria stepped closer, close enough for him to smell her perfume. It wasn’t the sweet jasmine she used to wear. It was something dark, metallic, and expensive. It smelled like power. "People like me don't die, Sebastian," she whispered, leaning into his ear. "We just wait for the fire to go out so we can use the ashes for war." She pulled back, her eyes scanning the room with theatrical boredom. "The party is dull. I expected more from the man who sold his soul for a seat at the head of the table. I’ll be seeing you in the boardroom tomorrow morning at eight sharp. Don’t be late. I hate having to repossess things when I’m caffeinated." She turned on her heel, her silk gown billowing behind her. "Wait!" Sebastian shouted, his voice echoing through the silent ballroom. Aria didn’t stop. She didn’t look back. She walked out of the double oak doors and into the cool night air where a black SUV was idling. The moment the door closed behind her, the mask shattered. Aria leaned her head against the cool leather seat and closed her eyes. Her hands were shaking. Not with fear, but with a rage so intense she felt like she might vibrate out of her skin. "Did you see him, Ma'am?" her assistant, Marcus, asked softly from the front seat. "I saw a coward," Aria snapped, her voice regaining its sharpness. "I saw a man who thinks a diamond ring can cover up a crime." "The boy is waiting for you at the hotel," Marcus reminded her. "He wouldn't go to sleep until he heard the car." At the mention of her son, Aria’s expression softened. Leo. Her light. Her secret weapon. The child Sebastian Crowne didn’t deserve to know existed. "Drive," she commanded. "I need to see my son." As the SUV pulled away from the Crowne Estate, Aria looked out the window at the towering skyscrapers of the city. For twelve years, she had been a victim of the Crowne family’s greed. For five years, she had been just a number in a cell. Now, she was the nightmare they never saw coming. Back in the ballroom, Sebastian was still standing in the same spot. Isabella was yelling at the security guards, demanding to know how a "social climber" had gotten in. But Sebastian didn’t hear a word. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, crumpled piece of paper he had kept for five years. It was a note Aria had sent him from prison, and one he had never replied to. I am innocent, Seb. Please, look at the evidence. Don’t let them take me. He had ignored it because the evidence he saw seemed undeniable. He had signed the documents because he believed he was doing the right thing for the company. But as he looked at the doors where "Rose Thorne" had vanished, a cold realization began to settle in his gut. The woman he saw tonight didn’t look like a criminal. She looked like an executioner. And he was the one with his neck on the block. Suddenly, his phone vibrated in his pocket. It was a private message from an unknown number. He opened it, his heart hammering. It was a photo. A grainy, long-distance shot of a park. In the center of the frame was the woman from the staircase. Beside her was a small boy, no more than four or five years old, throwing a ball to a dog. The boy had messy dark hair and a profile that mirrored the portraits hanging in the Crowne gallery. The caption beneath the photo read: You signed away her life. Now, I’m going to sign away yours. Sleep well, Sebastian. It’s the last night you’ll spend in a bed you own. Sebastian felt the world tilt. He gripped the edge of a buffet table to keep from falling. "A child?" he breathed. He looked up at Isabella, who was still complaining about her reputation. He looked at the flashing cameras, the vultures of the press waiting for a scandal. He had spent five years convincing himself he did what was necessary. He had spent five years trying to forget the girl with the amber eyes. But Aria Vale wasn't just back for her name. She had brought a legacy with her. A legacy that could destroy the Crowne name forever. The hunt had begun, and for the first time in his life, Sebastian Crowne was the prey.