I'M HERE FOR MY SON
739 Words
ARIA'S POV
I stare up at the towering glass skyscraper of King Atelier. The building is breathtaking—a sleek masterpiece of white marble, brushed steel, and massive glass windows catching the bright sunlight.
My dream building. Very soon, I’ll be surpassing these heights.
The revolving door opens into a lobby that feels like stepping into a magazine.
White is everywhere, broken up by soft gold fixtures and displays of fabrics and campaign images along the walls. The air smells subtle and clean. Everything about this global fashion empire screams luxury and grace.
Noah has really achieved it.
I walk to the front desk, and one of the receptionists looks up with a warm, professional smile. "Welcome to King Atelier. How may I help you today?"
"I have an appointment. Aria Sinclair, two o'clock."
"Yes, Ms. Sinclair. One moment, please."
She types on her screen and nods gracefully. "Right this way, Miss Sinclair. Mr. Kings' assistant will receive you on the fourteenth floor. The elevators are just to your right."
On the fourteenth floor, a woman with a sharp professional bob is already waiting near the elevator doors, holding a digital tablet. "Ms. Sinclair?"
"Yes, that's me."
"I am Jane, Mr. Kings' personal assistant. Please follow me." Her high heels click quietly on the floor. "He is just finishing up a previous engagement. I will take you to the meeting room, and he will join you shortly."
The room features a long wooden table, eight leather chairs, and a large window looking out over the New York skyline. A glass jug of cold water and two clean glasses are already set out.
"Please make yourself comfortable," Jane says politely. "He will not be long." She steps out and closes the door.
I sit down and pull out my phone to sift through my junk mail. Ten minutes pass. I can't concentrate on my emails; my mind keeps circling back to how this discussion with Noah is going to go.
Then twenty minutes go by. Twenty minutes quickly turn into forty, and forty minutes double.
He will not be long?
I pace the floor, constantly checking my watch. My anxiety boils over into hot frustration, and I leave the door ajar.
Is he doing this on purpose? That jerk.
Suddenly, voices echo from the hallway. One is completely unmistakable—arrogant and laced with a lazy drawl. Noah.
"Whoever it is, tell them the meeting will be rescheduled," Noah’s voice is cold and dismissive as he speaks to Jane. "I have somewhere important to be right now."
"But sir, she is here already!" Jane pleads. "She is waiting inside the—"
"Did I stutter?" Noah’s sharp voice cuts through the air like a knife. "I don't give a f**k where she is. The meeting has to be rescheduled. Tell Matteo to meet me downstairs immediately."
I freeze.
He is leaving? My son’s life is hanging by a single thread, and this arrogant man is just walking away?
All my bottled-up anger surges to the surface. I march out of the room, throwing the door open, and see his tall, broad back striding toward the executive elevators.
"Mr. Kings," I call out loudly. "It is quite something, you know. A person waits for you for more than an hour, and you still choose to walk in the other direction."
Noah stops dead in his tracks and turns slowly. He looks exactly the same, but the soft edges of his youth are gone. The years have traded his youthful charm for a lethal, high-caliber elegance. His presence radiates a heavy, unyielding power.
His eyes widen as he stares at me. "Aria," The name leaves his lips like a gasp. He looks shock, taking me in. "What... what are you doing here?"
If I am not so mad, I would have been more proud of myself for surprising him. Noah is never caught off guard.
"She is the person you were meeting with, boss," Jane says quietly from behind him.
Noah continues to stare at me, disbelief written all over his face. "Are you here because they think I will agree to their demands? Is that why they sent you to me?"
I look straight into his piercing dark eyes. I fold my arms in front of my chest, refusing to let my body tremble in front of him. "No, Noah," I say, my voice steady. "I am here for my son."
- Writer
