AARON
I wake before sunrise.My muscles ache for movement and my mind for clarity. I need both—especially after yesterday. By the time I step onto the sidewalk, the city is already humming, taxis splitting the early hush with impatient horns.
Equinox in Soho is only a few blocks away, but my legs itch for more than a stroll. I pick up my pace, running the last stretch, letting the sharp morning air snap the cobwebs from my head. Inside, the gym is alive—investment bankers trading market tips over protein shakes, models stretching in coordinated athleisure—everyone chasing their own kind of release.
I swipe in, nod to the front desk, and make a beeline for the treadmills. I want to outrun the conversation replaying in my head, the nerves about tonight, the new story lines tangling themselves around real life. I crank up the speed and let my body do the work. All I need is one good hour—just me and the world on mute.
I push myself to the limit on the treadmill, attempting to escape the conflicting emotions swirling within me. Later tonight, I’ll pick up Minji, take her to Axel’s launch party, and introduce her to my brothers, officially.
“You’re going to break that thing,” a voice calls out.
I glance over to see a woman, probably in her early thirties, on the neighboring treadmill. I’m not one to ignore women, but I want to be left alone. I ease my pace, not wanting to seem like an asshole. “Good morning.”
“Good morning, must be having a rough morning?” She adjusts her ponytail.
“Just out here clearing my head, that’s all.” I stop the treadmill, and she does the same. Shit. The last thing I want to do is talk to her or anyone right now. “I should get going?—”
“Crap. He’s here,” the woman squeaks. I follow her gaze towards a man entering the gym—tall, with sharp features and designer workout clothes. His confident stride falters slightly when he spots the woman, and something flickers across his face that looks suspiciously like pain before it’s replaced by cool indifference.
I need to get the hell away and fast. This is not where I want to be. I don’t know what these two might have going on, but it’s clearly complicated. The woman’s body language has shifted from confident to cornered in the span of a second.
“Can you pretend to know me? My name is Evelyn,” she whispers, desperation evident in her voice.
I’m about to decline, but the look in her eyes reminds me of Minji’s client Tamara from yesterday—that same trapped-animal panic. Before I can overthink it, I’m nodding. “I’m Aaron,” I add.
“Evie,” the man says as he approaches. His eyes flick to me with barely concealed curiosity. “I didn’t realize you still came here.”
“Seven years, same schedule,” Evelyn replies, her voice stronger than I would have expected. “So, what do you want, James?”
James’s gaze returned to me. “And you are?”
Before I can answer, Evelyn steps slightly closer to me, a protective gesture that surprises us both. “This is Aaron. A friend.”
The word ‘friend’ lingers, heavy with unintended implications. James’s jaw tightens slightly, and I realize he’s misunderstood our interaction. And I don’t know if Evelyn is doing it on purpose or not, but hell no.
“Aaron Singleton,” I clarified quickly, offering my hand.
James ignores my outstretched hand; his attention is fixed solely on Evelyn. “We need to talk. About the Prometheus patents.”
“My attorney advised against any direct communication,” Evelyn’s voice switching to a more professional, clinical tone. Man, it’s scary how women can turn their emotions on and off like a light switch. I always say women are the best in leadership roles because of this very trait. Then again, they can also be the worst for the exact same reason.
“Attorneys.” James practically spits the word. “Is that where we are now? Hiding behind legal teams instead of having an honest conversation?”
I should leave. This isn’t my business, and my presence is only complicating an already volatile situation.
“That’s rich coming from you. You’re the one who transferred proprietary technology behind my back.”
“It’s not what you think,” James insists, running a hand through his hair. “If you would just listen?—”
“I listened for twelve years.” Evelyn cuts him off. “I’m done listening.”
The pain that flashes across James’s face seems genuine, catching me off guard.
“Look.” I step back. “I should give you two some space?—”
“No,” Evelyn says quickly, her hand catching my forearm. Her grip is surprisingly strong. “Aaron and I were just discussing our training schedule. Weren’t we, Aaron?”
Her eyes plead with me. I’ve never been great at turning down a damsel in distress, even when every instinct tells me to run. “That’s right,” I hear myself say. “We were planning our workouts for the week.”
