Chapter 7

ARIA

I stood at the entrance of Morgan Global's 50th anniversary gala, my water-blue dress clinging to a stomach that had started to swell. I wanted to hide it, but Blake's hand was already on my lower back—the signal that the performance had begun.

Three years. Three years of marriage, three years of lies.

A silver-haired man approached us, champagne glass in hand. "Blake, been a while." His gaze landed on me. "And this is...?"

"My executive assistant, Aria Taylor." Blake's voice was so calm it hurt.

Executive assistant.

I smiled and extended my hand. "Pleasure to meet you."

The man shook my hand briefly before turning to Blake, launching into talk about quarterly reports. I stood there as a prop.

Three years married, and I was still just an assistant.

"Blake!" Victoria's voice echoed from the staircase. She descended in a red gown, the fabric sweeping the marble behind her. "Mom's looking for you. The family's upstairs in the VIP lounge."

Blake glanced at me. "Stay here and handle the secondary guests. Text me if there's an issue."

Secondary guests.

"Of course, Mr. Morgan."

Victoria waited until Blake turned away before leaning close, her voice dropping. "Remember your place, Aria. An assistant should act the part."

She followed Blake upstairs.

I stood there watching them leave. The baby inside seemed to sense my emotions—nausea rose in my throat. I breathed deep, forcing it down.

I couldn't fall apart here.

"Miss!" A voice called from behind. "Could you grab me some champagne?"

I turned. An older woman stared at me, her expression entitled.

"I'm not a server, ma'am."

"Oh." She looked me up and down. "Then you're...?"

"Blake Morgan's assistant."

"Oh." She walked away.

I gripped the nearby pillar. My head spun. Pregnancy or humiliation? I couldn't tell anymore.

Another person approached. "Hey, can you find my coat? I'm cold."

"The food's too salty. Go complain."

"Where's the champagne?"

One after another. They all mistook me for staff.

I stood there in my water-blue dress, light catching its shimmer, Blake's child in my belly, treated as a server.

This wasn't how I'd imagined carrying Blake's baby.

"Look at this." A familiar voice came from behind. "The Morgan family's cheap help."

I turned. Matthew stood there, his gray suit impeccably tailored, mockery in his eyes.

"Matthew."

"You remember me." He stepped closer. "I thought you'd forgotten everyone for Blake's sake."

"I haven't forgotten."

"No?" He sneered. "You remember how you used to stutter when you saw me as a kid? Look at you now. Changed so much, but still cheap help."

I was naive back then. Not anymore.

"I was naive then," I met his eyes. "I'm not now."

"Aren't you?" Matthew moved closer. "Then why are you here being ordered around as a server?"

I didn't answer.

"You think marrying Blake changed anything?" His voice dropped. "Your father killed mine, Aria. That fact never changes."

My fingers tightened. "My father didn't kill anyone."

"The court verdict says otherwise."

We stared at each other. The hall's music and laughter faded into distance.

Suddenly, commotion erupted in the hall.

Everyone turned toward the entrance.

Emma stood there.

She wore water-blue—the exact same shade as my dress. But hers was cut better, the fabric more expensive, her whole presence ethereal.

My gaze fell to her wrist.

The Morgan family sapphire bracelet.

My breath stopped.

That bracelet was a Morgan heirloom. Only the true Morgan wife could wear it. And Blake gave it to Emma while still married to me.

Whispers started around me.

"That's the Morgan sapphire..."

"Emma deserves the Morgan wife title..."

"The other one's just an assistant..."

I stood there watching Emma in her matching dress, wearing the bracelet I'd never have, receiving everyone's admiration.

My heart shattered.

"Looks your position's clearer now." Matthew whispered near my ear. Then he walked toward Emma.

I gripped the pillar, the world spinning.

"Aria!" Victoria's voice rang from the stairs. She hurried down, Emma following.

They stopped in front of me.

"See this?" Victoria pointed at Emma's wrist. "The family heirloom. Mom put it on her herself."

I stared at the sapphire bracelet, each diamond catching the light.

Victoria leaned close, voice dropping. "You're just a temporary wife about to be fired. Contract's almost up, remember?"

Should I contact a lawyer about Blake's public adultery?

"Should I call a lawyer?" I heard myself say. "Sue Blake for adultery during marriage?"

Victoria's face changed.

Emma reached for my hand. Her fingers were cold.

"You're too smart and rational to do that." Her voice was gentle, but the threat was clear. "You don't want everyone knowing you're a murderer's daughter."

My blood froze.

"Come, Aria." Victoria's voice resumed its commanding tone. "Go upstairs and clean my VIP lounge. Make tea and serve water too. Emma's tired and needs rest."

"Help out," Emma said softly.

I pulled my hand back. "Being a housekeeper's daughter doesn't make me your servant."

"What?" Victoria's voice rose.

"I said I'm not your servant."

"Blake!" Victoria turned and shouted.

Blake descended the stairs, frowning. "What happened?"

"She insulted Emma and me!" Victoria said immediately.

Emma hid the bracelet in her sleeve, her face hurt. "It's nothing, Blake. I don't need an apology."

Blake looked at me. "Do it, Assistant Taylor. Just clean the room and serve tea."

Assistant Taylor.

I remembered being manipulated by Emma as children. I remembered Mother beating me for failing to serve the Grant family properly.

"I won't do it."

Blake's eyes went cold. "You're threatening me? Refusing to clean a room means quitting?"

"Fire her!" Matthew said.

"Yes, fire her!" Victoria echoed.

"Enough." Blake said. "Morgan Global's personnel decisions aren't yours to make."

He grabbed my wrist and dragged me to a corner.

His fingers dug in. "Don't cause scenes at the gala. You're damaging Morgan Global's image."

"Who's causing the scene?" I shot back. "Me, or you and Emma flaunting that bracelet?"

"Emma asks for little." He said. "Cooperate with her. She just returned from Europe and needs adjustment."

He was still protecting Emma.

"I want to end the marriage early," I said. "I'll forfeit the settlement."

"No." Blake's answer came fast. "Divorce would tank stock prices and damage family reputation."

"I'm not a nanny or a servant," I said. "We have a contract."

"Do we?" He sneered. "Remember three years ago? Remember how you drugged me?"

My tears finally fell.

"I didn't drug you!" My voice shook. "When will you believe me?"

"The evidence speaks clearly."

"What if I can prove my innocence?" I said. "Then you're the criminal who forced this marriage."

Blake's eyes went colder. "Stay away from Emma. I won't take your side."

"Soon you won't see me at all."

I turned and left.

Outside the hall, the air cleared my head slightly. I gripped the railing, staring at Manhattan's distant lights.

Pregnant body. Humiliating circumstances. Shattered marriage.

Dizziness washed over me. Pregnancy or emotion—I couldn't tell.

A strange sweet scent drifted past. Heavy, chemical.

My consciousness began blurring.

Something's wrong.

I tried turning back to the hall, but my legs weakened. Surrounding sounds grew distant, muffled.

I braced against the wall, stumbling back.

A blurred figure approached.

I tried calling for help, but no sound came.

My body grew heavier. My knees buckled.

Someone caught me.

Everything went black.

I collapsed into unfamiliar arms.