Chapter 3 Aria is Gone

Leon

The penthouse was quieter than ever before. Not the quiet that was peaceful, but the quiet that drew you into its cold, vibrating hollowness. The quiet that screamed "she's gone" even though no voice was heard.

My footsteps bounced off the marble floor as I entered the house that had never, ever been home. Not until today. Not until I'd realized that I was accustomed to hearing her soft humming in the kitchen at midnight, the clicking of the heels down the hall, the scent of vanilla and lavender that clung to her everywhere.

And now...nothing.

I walked to the dining table, where a sleek white envelope sat like a time bomb. My name was written on it in the precise, careful handwriting I'd seen on countless legal documents. Aria Lane Knight. My wife. My secretary. My mistake.

I opened the envelope and unfolded the neatly signed divorce papers.

No note. No goodbye. Just her signature.

The air left my lungs.

"Is she really gone?" I breathed, falling into the chair as if the burden of it all lay in my chest.

It had started out as a game of tactics. I needed a wife for a year to flesh out my persona before I inherited the Knight Empire. Aria was dedicated, effective, unobtrusive. The ideal candidate. She had no family ties, no needy boyfriend, no drama.

She was also beautiful and lovely, too bad I never told her so.

And a year later, she'd left my life as silently and peacefully as she'd entered it.

But the situation is different now.

Because somehow without knowing, I had fallen in love with her.

And I never explained.

---

Our last weeks together haunted my memories.

She'd stopped humming.

She'd stopped smiling.

She barely even looked at me.

But I wrote it off, thinking it was just Aria being Aria. Cool, calm, unfeeling. I never thought to look further, never thought to ask why her eyes were not as bright or why she stayed longer in the guest room.

I never gave her anything more than I had to.

But I took everything.

Her time.

Her name.

Her body.

Her voice.

And now she is gone.

---

I closed my eyes, but she was all I could see.

The way she'd gazed at me on my wedding day-nervous, unsure, but hopeful. I hadn't spoken to her that truly mattered. I didn't even try. It was just a contract.

One year.

A contract.

And still, she'd given me more than I'd had a right to take.

When she'd walk into my office, cup of coffee in hand, herself impeccably dressed but her eyes continually scanning-for what, I hadn't the slightest. Perhaps something I never gave her. Perhaps something that I didn't know how to give until today.

Love.

Not the neat, cold one that arrived with contracts and conditions. But the one who took hands in the dark. That asked about your day. That reminded me of what her favorite tea was when she had cramps or how she hated sleeping in complete darkness.

The kind I never provided.

And the worse thing is, by the time I knew what I did, she was already gone.

---

The doorbell rang.

I stiffened.

My heart thudded in indiscriminate hope.

But it wasn't her.

It was my assistant, Carrie. She blinked, clearly shocked to see me looking like a ghost in my own house.

"Mr. Knight, I'm sorry-should I come back another time?"

I shook my head. "What do you want?"

"The investors would like a statement about your marital status. It's making waves on the web. Apparently Mrs. Knight was seen boarding a plane alone."

My teeth ground together. "Don't call her that."

Carrie winced. "Sir?"

"Don't call her Mrs. Knight. Not like it's nothing. Not like she was some piece."

Carrie nodded slowly. "Yes, sir."

Just as she was exiting, I yelled.

"Find her."

She paused. "What?"

"Find her. Whatever the price. Wherever she went. You have to find her"

Because I now knew something.

Aria may have departed with nothing more than signed papers.

But she also took everything that I didn't know I'd given her.

My heart.

And this time, I wasn't letting her off that easily.

Oh my! What a big mess I've made.