Buckle Up
627 Words
The first thing Claire felt was warmth.
Aidan's arm was wrapped around her waist, his chest rising and falling behind her in a steady rhythm. Morning light filtered through the glass windows, painting soft gold across the sheets tangled between their legs.
For a moment, it felt unreal. A dream she never wanted to wake from.
She turned slowly to face him. His hair was messy. His lips slightly parted in sleep. And for the first time, she saw him not as a billionaire, or a boss, or a puzzle — but as a man.
A man who had let her in.
She smiled faintly and kissed his shoulder before slipping out of bed.
---
The villa was silent as she wandered into the living area, draped in one of his button-down shirts. The sea crashed outside like it was trying to tell her something. Something urgent. Something waiting.
She found his study by accident.
Or maybe fate dragged her to it.
The door was slightly ajar. Inside, everything was minimalist — a clean desk, a leather chair, and one drawer. Locked.
But the key was still in it.
Curiosity whispered louder than reason.
She turned the key.
Inside were papers — old reports, company files... and a red folder labeled "Cassia Dane."
Claire's breath hitched.
She pulled it out and flipped through the pages. Photos. A legal report. A tabloid clipping:
> "Heiress Vanishes After Affair with The Core CEO Heir."
Another article:
> "Sources claim Aidan Lazaro used and discarded her. Family silence still ongoing."
Claire's fingers trembled.
The final page was a printed email. It was sent from Vincent's address.
> "She's not our problem anymore. And neither is the next one — as long as you keep your mouth shut."
Claire's chest tightened.
Was that what she was? The next one?
---
Her head was still spinning when she stepped onto the balcony and found Aidan sipping coffee, his expression unreadable.
"Who is Cassia Dane?" she asked, holding the folder in her hands.
He didn't flinch. But he didn't smile, either.
"She was a mistake," he said quietly.
"Did you love her?"
A pause. Then: "I thought I could."
Claire swallowed. "And what happened to her?"
"She broke," he said simply. "And I couldn't fix her."
"That's not an answer, Aidan."
He looked at her then — and something in his eyes was cold again. That familiar, ruthless mask sliding back into place.
"Don't dig into things you don't understand, Claire. Especially not when we're finally… okay."
"Are we?" Her voice cracked. "Because from where I'm standing, I'm just another name in a file."
His jaw clenched. "You have no idea what that woman did to me. To my reputation. To my family."
"And what are you doing to me?"
A long silence fell between them.
Finally, he stood. "If this is how you want to ruin everything, be my guest."
He walked past her without another word.
---
Back in the city
Maya stood in her office, her phone lighting up with likes and retweets.
The photo had done its job — Claire and Aidan, side by side, bags in hand. The caption was perfect:
> "Office Romance or Strategic Distraction? Lazaro's Latest Flame Exposed."
She smiled coldly.
Let the world devour them.
---
That Night
Claire sat alone by the fireplace, staring at the folder in her lap. The embers glowed, but she felt cold. So cold.
He hadn't spoken to her since the argument.
She didn't know what hurt more — the things she'd read… or the way he'd looked at her after.
Like she was dangerous.
Like she was disposable.
She pressed a hand to her chest, trying to still the ache.
Was this love?
Or just another game?
- Writer
