Loving the Cold CEO

Chapter Four- The Puppet Strings

***

Ayana's PoV

Carrington Tower gleamed with its usual clinical precision, standing tall amongst fellow Giants like AeroMax in New York's Financial District. Steel and glass reflected power without warmth- an apt representation of my family.

My black, red-bottom heels sounded against the marble floors as I moved down the executive floor. Secretaries stood as I passed, polite smiles stretched tight as their eyes moved from my face to my dress, then discreetly to their watches.

9:59 am.

I was right on time, which, by my aunt's standards, was late.

I had chosen defiance in the details she couldn't openly reprimand. A short, black, turtleneck dress, stockings, and garters instead of pantyhose, my hair pulled into a high ponytail with curls cascading freely instead of the neat, obedient bun she preferred.

It's these little moments of rebellion that keep me sane...

My Aunt was already waiting in the conference room, framed by panoramic glass and skyline. The table was lined with open tablets and color-coded reports. The latest tabloids were stacked beside her coffee cup, already annotated with neat pen strokes.

She didn't look up as I entered.

"Sit."

I did, watching as her gaze flicked briefly over me. There was neither approval nor disapproval in her eyes. She was assessing.

"Well, you've caused quite the stir."

She spoke up finally, swiping through the articles with a sort of detached amusement that irked me.

"I didn't intend to. It was just a dance."

I responded carefully, gauging her mood and body language.

"It was a dance with him...which makes it far more interesting."

And there it was, the first sign that there was more to this than meets the eye.

"Pierce's family has already reached out," she continued, but all I could hone in on was the lack of displeasure in her voice as she addressed a matter that would have made her lose her mind in other circumstances.

"They’re understandably concerned about last night’s coverage. But I’ve managed to redirect the narrative, for now."

"Aunt...what did you do?"

The accusation in my tone was sharper than I intended, and it earned me a warning glance before she returned to swiping through the tablet. Satisfied with what she found, she handed it over to one of her nondescript assistants, who brought it over.

"I've simply spun the narrative to suit our needs. The PR team has leaned into it, as you can clearly see. And now, we have positioned it perfectly as a potential collaboration between Carrington Retail and Prion Group."

My Aunt's words lined perfectly with the headline I was now staring at.

Carrington Heiress and the Cold CEO: A Power Alliance in the Making?

"What...what have you done?"

My words came out like a whisper, my voice scratchy from the panic that was clawing at me from the inside, begging to come out. My Aunt set down her documents, her gaze now solely fixed on me.

Calm.

Unmoved.

"I've made the best of an opportunity. Prion Group has been...reluctant. This encourages cooperation and shields your reputation. Collaboration with them has the potential to increase our valuation greatly, and I will always take those odds over anything else."

I couldn't help my body's involuntary response, stiffening as her true intentions were finally out in the open.

"This isn't... I don't want Ha Joon dragged into my..."

"This is not about what you want, Ayana," her voice was as sharp as the diamond rings on her fingers, "It's about optics. The world has spun the story for us. All we're doing is making it profitable."

I stood abruptly, blood boiling as I watched her sip her coffee, unbothered by the lives she was ruining.

"He didn't ask for this."

She rose too, coffee cup in hand, as she turned towards the windows. Manhattan stretched endlessly beyond her, a city to be owned and possessed, no matter the cost.

"You're defending him."

"I'm explaining," I countered, reigning in my emotions as I noted her quiet surprise and disdain at the firmness in my voice, "He's not someone you manipulate without consequences."

She turned back to me, head tilted, her curiosity sharpened.

"You seem to know him well."

I forced myself to calm down, a neutral expression masking the rage scorching my veins.

"I know enough."

"I watched you last night. The way you looked at him. The way he looked at you. I don’t particularly care who you find charming, Ayana, but when a man like that looks at you, remember: he’s not seeing you. He’s seeing leverage."

Her words were like a dagger, inflicting damage upon my tattered heart.

"That's not fair,"

"It's business."

She crossed the room, stopping just short of me.

"This collaboration will happen whether you like it or not. And I expect you to remember who you represent. You are the face of Carrington Retail and a daughter in this family."

Her dismissal of my opinion cut deep, unraveling fresh wounds within me.

She never failed to remind me of my place- a puppet on her strings.

A doll.

A knock interrupted us as one of her assistants entered. She whispered something to my aunt, words that left a small, satisfied smile on her lips.

"Prion Group has reached out. They would like to reopen discussions."

Cold dread unfurled in my chest at the news.

Tak...why?... What are you doing?

"If things proceed as planned, you'll likely be involved."

Of course.

Of course he'd respond.

Of course he would protect, even at his own cost.

"Don't do this, Aunt. Don't use my private life and friendships as a PR stunt."

Desperation bled into my voice, but my aunt was too pleased to hear it as she sat on the executive chair once more.

"You don't have a private life, Ayana. Your image is business. The moment you decided to step in front of a camera, it stopped being yours."

She said simply, almost flippantly, her words landing like glass shards. Viola Carrington rarely raised her voice. Instead, she broke you silently with surgical precision.

"You should have told me you were planning on doing business with Prion. Why was I kept in the dark?"

My aunt raised a brow, the only sign of her displeasure at my tone, before she completely ignored me as her gaze shifted to the documents before her.

"You'll be briefed when necessary."

She waved a hand, dismissing me entirely as her assistants stepped forward to present the next order of business.

Grabbing my bag, I stood, spine straight and expression composed.

The perfect Carrington mask restored.

"Oh, and Ayana? Pierce has been trying to reach you. Call him back as soon as possible and be more diligent."

I said nothing, mask firmly in place as I left. I refused to show her an inkling of weakness or the half moons that I was digging deeper into my palms with every step I took.

My composure shattered once I settled into the safety of my Maserati.

Rage.

Shame.

Fear.

A toxic combination that threatened to suffocate me.

Pressing a hand to my ribs, I begged my body to hold it together as I tried to breathe through it.

"Get it together, Ayana. You Have to."

I whispered, staring at my reflection in the viewing mirror. Perfection stared back, not a strand out of place, but my eyes knew what he knew.

His voice, a whisper in my subconscious, reminded me of exactly who I was.

A terrible liar.

**

The city glittered in the night beneath my window as I curled beside the glass, wine untouched in my hand while the other held my phone. Notifications buzzed endlessly as they had the entire day - headlines, speculations, and assumptions.

I ignored them all, my thumb hovering over one specific contact before I pressed call.

Tayen and I had had a proper phone call a month ago, and this night was no different as his voicemail picked up after several rings.

"Hey, big brother."

My voice was quieter than I would have preferred, but the heaviness was growing, and it was suffocating.

"You’ll laugh, but I managed to start a corporate war just by dancing. Aunt is thrilled. She’s already turning it into a business deal."

I exhaled, a faint tremor in my breath as the knot of anxiety within me began to unfurl as it always did whenever I talked to my other half.

"You'd have told me to walk away...or at least fight her, but I'm yet to find the strength. Fuck...Ha Joon is probably so pissed off at me right now, Aimi too, maybe. I don't know how I managed to mess up so badly, big brother... I don't know how I got here...but I will fix it."

I paused, the city's hum filling the silence as I got lost in my thoughts and tried not to drown in my self-deprecation. My voice wavered again, now thick with unshed tears that blurred the view of the city before me.

"You were right to leave when you did, Tay. I just wish you hadn't left me here..."

Alone.

I hung up before my composure fully cracked, a tear dropping into my wine glass as I took a sip.

The room was quiet except for the wind sweeping past the balcony. I glanced towards the floor-length mirror across the room.

The woman staring back at me was flawless in so many ways, even without makeup and in pajamas.

But the eyes...these hazel-colored eyes never lied, and the grief buried deep within the depths was almost too much for one person to bear.

My phone lit up again.

Ha Joon.

I have everything under control.

I will protect you. Always.

With a wild beating heart, my gaze found my reflection once more. The mask that my aunt had perfectly crafted- every rule and every facade- was cracking.

I'm on the edge of oblivion, aren't I?

***