“Apologies that I had to show you this on a decent Monday morning.”
Elsa liked a little confusion every once in a while, since it pays to be prepared whenever the unknown is giving the impression that it’s too overwhelming for her to take. Though, she could never entirely savor the remains of that turmoil—not when the reason of her decreasing patience is splattered all over a sixty-inch Sony screen, being played on rewind, and is also shattering the tolerance that kept her from jabbing on the remote control.
Aiden probably knew the headline by heart now. His eyes have been repeatedly running through ‘Alleged Ex-Inamorata of Famous Oil Tycoon Pierre Storms Unveils a Child out of Wedlock’ as if they refused to believe the media can literally just stitch the most scandalous of adjectives together and create a big article bonus.
He bit his lip. The tension wildly airing the room was enough to make his capacity for panic shrink, and was also enough to make him hear the silence—the kettle boiling to its limit within Elsa’s skull.
Oh well, it was a decent Monday morning.
“A private event. The party was a damn thousands of buck private event, settled in an elite venue, and yet the press have somehow gotten to slip in and tape that?!” Elsa finally screeched.
Heine looked up from the Jensen chair he sat on around the corner, the gliding of the brush across his golden tresses ending on the edge of a smooth lock, “Hmm. Should have gone for a hundred then.”
The frigid glare the CEO sent towards the Executive Director’s direction only lit up a smirk to grace the other blond’s lips, “Playing dangerous today, are we?”
“Elsa, really, it’s fine,” Aiden weakly interposed. He rose up to his full height, and approached his fiancée with a gentle hand reaching for the red button on the remote, “At least it w-wouldn’t be a PR Nightmare to Arendelle Co, if I’m correct?”
Elsa frowned, brows knitting in worry. The stammer he expelled and the disheveled appearance of his hair barely agreed with his optimism. The audio of the television now clipped to a halt, she was glad she wore stilettos today, so craning her neck up wasn’t necessary to gently stare him down.
“Yes. Yes, it is hardly linked to us—but it is to you, Aiden. Think of yourself. It’s my turn to tell you that you deserve more than this, than how the world looks at who you are,” Elsa squeezed his hand, “I just want them to... Take a good look at you.”
His lips were next to her forehead, “What matters the most is that you’re looking at me right now.”
“I know,” Her grimace broke into a small smile, “But we have to do something. And I’ll be handling it.”
As soon as the last five words of her statement drifted off her mouth—at the corner of her eye—she saw Heine coolly pocket his brush behind his suit, his intent gaze meeting and enlightening hers whereas a cryptic twinkle gleamed with meaning.
Elsa made her shock vocal, “You handled it.”
“Pardon?” Heine smirked.
“You dug.”
Heine’s smug expression was trimmed into a humble grin. He shrugged, standing up and letting one of his feet twist playfully whilst he walked, “I’m afraid old habits die hard. Now that’s quite a riskier game, no?”
“With you, I’m pretty sure jeopardy is a joke in occasion,” Elsa gravely demanded, “Now that you’ve made things easier, Heine, please, talk.”
“Patience is a virtue, Elsa. The bronze,” He calmly spoke, “The silver, or the gold?”
“The... Gold?” Aiden hesitantly answered, recalling a similar code conversation Anna and Heine once had in front of them.
“Precisely,” Heine nodded, “Judging by the messy angles of the posted video, I figured that it was recorded with a phone. I’m certain such a mere item can pass through those five all-rounder groups of security that you stationed.”
“Do continue,” Elsa crossed her arms.
“I’m also sure you’ve promised a pretty penny to them, so bribery from the press won’t be accepted. That is why I presume the press isn’t exactly to blame, resulting to the very conclusion,” Heine paused, and yawned, “One of the guests couldn’t resist shooting the live telenovela episode.”
“And they said the wealthy were the definition of grace,” Elsa darkly mumbled.
Heine feigned a dramatic gasp, admitting, “Why, you hurt me. I’m wealthy and the definition of grace.”
The other blonde chuckled, “You’re quite exempted, don’t worry.”
As if on cue, Elsa could have sworn she heard a fist connecting to the flesh of someone’s rib outside. Soon, the brutal noise was quickly followed by another, this time an indignant groan, and the doors were suddenly thrown open—almost fooling Aiden if Marshmallow truly possessed an iron fist that must have caused the faint bruise tarnishing the right corner of the culprit’s mouth.
“Well then luckily for you, I’ve made the job easier. All thanks to technological needlework.”
When the guilty party decided to try and break free from the rigid grip, agony instantly rushed to both of his arms as the bodyguard locked him in place.
The wide smile adorning the Executive Director’s face tainted the captured’s ability to resist fear. “Digging is utterly boring without getting the real deal out of the dirt. Don’t you just agree, Garrett?”
“Get the hell away from me, Schmidt!” The least favored board member scowled.
Heine rolled his eyes. “And you should stay away from animal-printed suits.”
“Garrett,” Elsa’s shock didn’t extend, whilst she flatly questioned, “Had your fun at the party, I see?”
“I do have to admit, remarkable occasion it was, Miss Arendelle,” Garrett sneered, “Though I couldn’t entirely enjoy the festivities that night, you know. Simply served as an ugly reminder of how foolish and reckless you have been.”
Aiden walked up behind his fiancée, frowning, “Mister Garrett, I advise you to watch your tongue, especially with how you are speaking with my future wife.”
“No,” Garrett growled, “What about you shouldn’t even have marched in here in the first place? And long story short, it took me more than eight forsaken years to get to sit by that board table and you–it took you what?”
Aiden opened his mouth to reciprocate an answer, yet the older man wasn’t finished.
Wasn’t aware that he was warmly welcoming himself into a nightmare.
“Took you to be the CEO’s plaything?”
Slap!
Without delay, Elsa’s hand came roughly in contact with the man’s cheek; her practiced composure now completely in tatters and the terrifying sound of skin meeting abused skin disquieted the formerly fixed atmosphere of the room.
Even then examining the harsh redness of what she inflicted, guilt—for the very first time in her life—didn’t swallow her conscience in whole.
Aiden pulled her away from the wincing man once he was certain she allowed him to do so, his arms making her surrender to his warmth. He kissed the shell of her ear soothingly, catching a glimpse of the impending tears staining the spot near his collar.
“I d-didn’t.. Aiden, I p-promise..” She murmured hoarsely. Stroking her hair, Aiden gently shook his head, “I know, I know darling. Of course.”
He angrily steered his gaze to a flinching Garrett, rage governing his tone as he kept the blond close, “I can bear hearing you badmouth me, but insulting a woman’s integrity is something I won’t be able to forgive you for.”
“As if I wasn’t telling the truth,” Garrett scoffed.
Aiden coldly spoke, “Accept that you really weren’t. That is, if your ego can take it.”
The Creative Director received a dirty look in return. Under Heine’s command, Marshmallow left with the man still secured between his grip, who is surely questioning his future on his trip off to unemployment.
“So the lions can roar,” Heine clapped proudly, emerging from a desk chair, “I’m referring to both of you, by the way.”
“You’ve done majority of the work, Heine,” Elsa sniffled, whilst she grabbed a tissue, “Didn’t entirely roar, I guess.”
“Love,” Aiden chimes in, “I wouldn’t believe any word out of Garrett, you... Just gave him what he deserved. I highly doubt that he managed to film that this time,” He joked, in hopes of lightening his fiancée’s mood, “Come on, darling—Ramen House?”
Elsa linked his arm in hers, shyly confessing, “I want a plate of gyozas and the regular.”
“You got it.”
“And we’ll be starting on some desk-accessible wedding planning while I clear up papers.”
“Yes ma’am,” Aiden saluted with a grin, “But...”
Elsa raised a brow, sighing, “But?”
“You’ll get those—as soon as you turn that frown upside down.”
Elsa mustered up a small, loving smile upon said condition, wiping the remaining streaks of tears off her face. “Now?”
“There she is,” Aiden nodded softly, drawing a circle on her cheek with his thumb, “I’ll be back with lunch. Want anything, Heine?”
“No–but thank you. I don’t think they serve chicken parmesan salads.”
“Right.”
Heine folded his arms, gaze trailing to his friend whilst they watched the darker-haired man leave the scene.
“Precious, isn’t he?” Elsa mumbled.
Heine chuckled, agreeing, “I’m simply glad you decided to wear that ring around your finger.”
To be continued
on the next chapter...