Deep Consuming Addiction

Chapter 67

✨ What He Chose✨

Ari Darven

The line went quiet.

Ari didn’t move right away.

The phone stayed at his ear for a second longer, like part of him hadn’t caught up to the fact that the call had ended. Then, slowly, he lowered it, his gaze settling somewhere ahead of him—but not really seeing anything in front of him.

Elena.

He exhaled through his nose, leaning back in his chair.

Miles between them—and still, she found a way to get into his head.

Not in a way that distracted him from work.

In a way that stayed.

He tapped the edge of his phone lightly against his desk once, twice, thinking back to her voice. The hesitation. The way she tried to sound like herself—and the way he could hear right through it.

She had almost not called.

He knew it.

Which meant whatever she had been sitting with… it mattered.

Ari’s jaw tightened slightly.

The thought of her alone in that hotel room, overthinking, questioning something he had already settled—he didn’t like that.

Didn’t like it at all.

“I’m not with anyone else.”

He had meant that.

Not just because he told her.

Because it was done.

That part of his life—easy, detached, transactional—had no place next to what he was building with her.

And for the first time in a long time—

He didn’t miss it.

Ari leaned forward, resting his forearms on the desk, his fingers lacing together as his thoughts sharpened.

Waiting wasn’t a problem.

Not when it was for something that actually meant something.

Not when it was her.

A knock at the door broke through his thoughts.

Ari didn’t look up immediately.

“Come in.”

The door opened without hesitation.

Matteo stepped in, already mid-stride, like he had somewhere to be and didn’t plan on wasting time getting there. He closed the door behind him, his sharp eyes immediately catching the shift in Ari’s posture.

“You look like you just got off a call that mattered,” Matteo said.

Ari finally looked up.

“I did.”

Matteo nodded once, not pressing—just filing that away as he walked over and dropped a folder onto the desk.

“Carolina,” he said simply.

Ari’s gaze flicked down to it.

“Elena's working,” he added.

“I know,” Ari replied.

Matteo’s brow lifted slightly.

“Of course you do.”

Ari ignored that, pulling the folder toward him and opening it. His eyes scanned quickly, absorbing information without needing to linger.

Numbers. Accounts. Movement.

All familiar.

But his focus was sharper now.

More intentional.

“She’s already working,” Ari said, flipping a page.

Matteo leaned back slightly, crossing his arms. “Didn’t expect anything less.”

Ari didn’t respond.

Matteo watched him for a second longer.

Then—

“That what the call was about?” he asked.

Ari’s eyes didn’t leave the file. “Part of it.”

Matteo smirked faintly. “The other part?”

Ari finally looked up.

“None of your business.”

Matteo chuckled under his breath. “So it is personal.”

Ari closed the file with a quiet but firm motion.

“It’s handled.”

Matteo raised both hands slightly. “Relax. I’m not prying.”

“You are,” Ari said flatly.

“Only because you’ve been different,” Matteo replied, not backing down. “More… contained.”

Ari leaned back in his chair again, his expression unreadable.

“That’s not a problem.”

“No,” Matteo agreed. “It’s not. Just noticeable.”

A beat of silence passed between them.

Then Matteo shifted the conversation.

“We’ve got movement on the accounts,” he said, nodding toward the file. “Same pattern Elena flagged last week.”

Ari’s attention snapped back fully.

“Confirmed?”

“Looks like it,” Matteo said. “Small transfers, layered, but consistent. Someone’s testing the system.”

Ari picked the file back up, flipping through it again, slower this time.

“Or preparing to move something bigger,” he muttered.

Matteo nodded once.

“Exactly.”

Ari’s mind shifted gears completely now.

Focused.

Sharp.

“This ties into the Carolina network,” he said.

“Which is why she’s there,” Matteo replied.

Ari’s grip on the file tightened just slightly.

“I know.”

Matteo watched him carefully.

“You trust her on this?”

Ari didn’t hesitate.

“Yes.”

There was no room for doubt in that answer.

Matteo nodded once.

“Good,” he said. “Because if this escalates, she’s going to be right in the middle of it.”

Ari’s expression didn’t change.

But something in his eyes did.

Protective.

Calculated.

“She won’t be alone,” he said.

Matteo smirked faintly. “You planning on flying out there?”

Ari didn’t answer immediately.

Didn’t dismiss it either.

Matteo caught that.

“Thought so.”

Ari closed the file again, setting it down with finality.

“Keep monitoring the accounts,” he said. “Flag anything that shifts—even slightly.”

“Already on it.”

“And Matteo—”

Matteo paused at the door, glancing back.

“Yeah?”

Ari held his gaze.

“Nothing touches her without me knowing first.”

Matteo studied him for a second.

Then nodded once.

“Understood.”

The door closed behind him.

And just like that—

The room went quiet again.

But this time, Ari didn’t sit back.

He leaned forward, reaching for his phone again, his thumb hovering briefly over her name.

Not calling.

Just… there.

Miles between them.

But not out of reach.

Not anymore.

Ari didn’t stay in the office much longer after Matteo left.

Work was handled.

Instructions were clear.

But his focus—

It wasn’t here anymore.

He grabbed his jacket, phone, and keys in one smooth motion before heading out, the quiet click of the office door echoing behind him.

---

The drive home was uneventful.

City lights blurred past the windows, traffic steady but distant. Normally, this time of night didn’t bother him. Silence had never been something he struggled with.

He preferred it.

Needed it.

But tonight—

It felt different.

Too quiet.

Too empty.

His mind kept drifting.

Back to her voice.

Back to the hesitation before she called.

Back to the way she tried to sound like herself… and failed just enough for him to notice.

Ari’s grip tightened slightly on the steering wheel.

Miles between them.

And still—she reached him.

The penthouse was dark when he walked in.

No lights.

No movement.

No trace of her.

The door shut behind him with a soft click, but the sound carried more than it should have.

He stood there for a second.

Still.

Taking it in.

The absence.

It wasn’t unfamiliar—he had spent countless nights here alone. But now, after having her in this space, after watching her move through it like she belonged—

It didn’t feel the same.

Ari exhaled slowly, tossing his keys onto the console.

They hit the surface with a sharp sound that echoed slightly in the open space.

His eyes drifted toward the bedroom.

He didn’t think about it.

He just walked.

The room was exactly as he left it.

Perfect. Untouched.

And yet—

Not.

Because he could still see her there.

On the bed.

In his shirt.

Looking at him like she was trying to understand something she hadn’t fully accepted yet.

Ari’s jaw tightened.

He stepped further in, his gaze settling on the sheets.

Too neat.

Too empty.

He reached down, pulling them back slightly—not because he needed to, but because something in him rejected how untouched it looked.

Like she had never been there.

Like she hadn’t left something behind.

Ari sat on the edge of the bed, leaning forward, his forearms resting on his thighs.

For a moment—

He just stayed there.

Quiet.

Thinking.

Then he leaned back, dropping fully onto the mattress, one arm behind his head as he stared up at the ceiling.

This wasn’t about s*x.

That part—he could control.

Always had.

But this—

The way she lingered in his mind.

The way her absence filled the room more than her presence ever had.

That was new.

And he didn’t ignore things he didn’t understand.

Ari pushed himself up after a moment, running a hand through his hair before heading out of the bedroom.

He didn’t stay there.

Didn’t let himself settle into that space too long.

Instead, he moved toward the bar.

The glass was cold in his hand.

He poured without measuring—just enough.

Amber liquid caught the light as he tilted the bottle, the quiet sound of it filling the silence of the room.

Ari lifted the glass, taking a slow sip.

It burned.

Familiar.

Grounding.

But it didn’t do what it usually did.

Didn’t quiet his mind.

Didn’t slow his thoughts.

Because they weren’t scattered.

They were focused.

On her.

He leaned against the counter, glass in hand, staring out at the city through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

Somewhere out there—

Miles away—

She was in a room that didn’t have him in it.

And she felt it.

He knew she did.

Just like he felt this.

Ari took another drink, slower this time.

“You’re not alone in this.”

His own words echoed back at him.

He meant them.

But now—

He understood something else.

Neither was he.

He set the glass down, resting both hands on the counter, his head dipping slightly as he exhaled.

This wasn’t temporary.

This wasn’t something he could step in and out of when it suited him.

He had chosen.

And with that choice came this—

Distance.

Restraint.

Want that didn’t have an immediate answer.

Ari straightened slowly, picking the glass back up.

His jaw set.

Waiting wasn’t the problem.

He had already decided that.

But that didn’t mean it was easy.

Another sip.

His gaze drifted back toward the bedroom.

Then away again.

“Get through it,” he muttered under his breath.

Because that’s what this was.

Not a question.

Not a doubt.

Just something to get through—

Until she was back.