Chapter 6 – The Distance Between Us
It's been two weeks since Aria watched the video.
Aria barely slept.
The video looped in her mind like a curse: Kade's voice, cruel and absolute. Then die quietly.
She had replayed the recording five times. Each time hoping she'd misheard it, misunderstood the tone, misread the context. But it didn't change. The coldness was there. Calculated. Final.
She sat curled on the velvet chaise in the guest room—her guest room now. The one she'd slipped into sometime before dawn, unable to lie beside the man whose voice had pushed another into the grave.
She didn't know what time Kade returned. She only knew the sound of the door unlocking, the silence as he walked past her closed door without stopping. No knock. No words.
Just more silence.
---
The morning came with a grey sky and a sour stomach.
Not metaphorical—physical.
Aria barely made it to the bathroom before she was sick. Once. Then again. It wasn't nerves. She'd felt it before. A dragging fatigue in her limbs, the ache behind her eyes, the dizziness.
The kind of knowing that blooms in your body before your mind catches up.
She stood shakily in front of the mirror, clutching the edge of the sink. Her reflection stared back at her, pale and anxious.
She didn't want to think about it. Not yet. Not with the flash drive still hidden in the drawer, still waiting like a live wire.
---
Kade was already in the kitchen when she emerged. Suited. Composed. A coffee in hand, eyes scanning something on his tablet.
He looked up, expression unreadable.
"Morning," he said, as if they were normal. As if nothing had shifted.
Aria kept her distance. "Is it?"
He didn't answer.
She poured herself a glass of water, back turned to him. Silence stretched between them, taut and uneasy.
Then, she said it.
"I watched the video."
There was no pause, no gasp. Just the quiet clink of his cup as he set it down.
"I thought you would."
She turned. "You told him to die quietly, Kade."
"I told him to stop pretending he was the victim."
"That's not what it sounded like."
"It never does when you only hear the end."
He stepped closer, but she didn't move. She wouldn't give him the space.
"You want me to believe you didn't push him to it?" she asked.
Kade looked tired now. More than usual. Like the weight of the lie—or the truth—was finally pressing against his spine.
"What I said was cruel. I won't deny it. I was angry. He made promises to step down quietly, to protect Calista. Then he changed his mind when it meant losing everything."
"So you backed him into a corner?"
"I did what I always do. I chose the business over the emotions."
She hated how honest that sounded. Because it wasn't an excuse. It was a confession.
She looked away. Her stomach twisted again.
"Are you going to show it to the press?" he asked.
She met his gaze. "Is that all you care about?"
"No," he said quietly. "But it's the part that gets us both destroyed."
---
Later that day, Aria slipped out. She needed air. Space. A version of reality without tailored suits and staged smiles.
She walked through Central Park with a scarf wrapped tight around her neck, sunglasses low on her face. The autumn leaves were turning. Rust. Amber. Gold.
She stopped at a corner pharmacy, bought a pregnancy test, then carried the little paper bag like it weighed a thousand pounds.
Back at the penthouse, she went straight to the guest bathroom.
Ten minutes later, she sat on the floor, knees to her chest.
Two lines.
Not maybe. Not faint.
Positive.
She was pregnant.
With Kade Vale's child.
And no plan. No feelings. No idea what to do next.
---
She didn't tell him that night.
She couldn't.
Instead, she spent the evening on the balcony, bundled in a sweater, the city buzzing beneath her like static. Her thoughts were too loud. Her options too few.
Kade stepped out just after midnight. Not close. Just within view.
"I have people watching Calista," he said. "If she tries to leak the video, we'll intercept it."
Aria didn't respond.
"If you want out," he added, "this is the part where you say so."
She turned slowly.
"I don't want out," she said. "Not yet."
"Why?"
She hesitated. Not ready to drop the weight between them.
"Because I'm starting to see the man behind the myth. And I don't know if that's better or worse."
Kade gave a short breath. Almost a laugh. Almost not.
"Then you're already ahead of the rest of the world."
She stood.
"Goodnight, Kade."
She walked past him, not looking back.
Inside, her phone buzzed.
Unknown Number.
"You're not as invisible as you think. The baby changes everything."
Her blood ran cold.
She hadn't told anyone.
Not even him.