AARON WALLACE POV

The pristine water skidding from the shower and down against my body felt like golden sand, splendid and warm, slipping along my skin like a drizzle of honey and sinking into the drainage after serving its purpose. It had been a while since I had enjoyed such a comforting shower, or awakened to feel this great. With the excitement of Lively staying just a floor beneath me, there was a stimulating spurt in my soul, like finally getting to check off the toughest box on a wish list.

Last night, she came to me in the pavilion while I was discussing my takeover of the office with the council on a conference call, following the dinner I had with my cousins. She stood by the groomed flowers in her silky two-piece nightwear, unaware that I wouldn't miss her presence even if she were camouflaged with the shadows. I concluded the call, granting her the satisfaction of a successful lurking. When my eyes beheld her, she approached me, thinking I was oblivious to her secretive deeds. She took the space next to me, her amber eyes so innocent as she claimed her visit was to thank me for Sadie. I knew half of it was a lie, judging by the wriggling of her hands, undecided between courage and surrender. She clearly, agonizingly, wanted physical touch and blushed deeply in anticipation. She was delicate and effortlessly confirmed my exact guess, trembling under my touch as I brushed back her stunning hair.

It felt good knowing she wasn't mad at me after the choices I inadvertently made. She sat with me in the backyard, letting me show her the designs I was working on for our upcoming project. Her intrigue about planes was surprising, and I didn't want her company to end, even though she should have been resting. I indulged her curiosity, explaining everything she pointed at with her small finger, even if it was just irrelevant. She asked if I could fly a real plane, and I added being her pilot to my bucket list of ways to impress her. Despite Grandpa's cultural rules against PDA lingering in my mind, I couldn't refrain from kissing Liv when the moment felt so right. I was conscious of the staff roaming around the area, but as they dispersed and it was just the two of us, I didn't hold back. Her fingers stopped fidgeting as she brought them around my neck and pulled me close for a deep, passionate kiss.

I escorted her back to her room. She walked with her head down and hands laced in front of her as if we had committed the most blasphemous act, even though we had done much worse alone. Something amusing I've learned about Liv is that she's always excited about me, and it matches what I feel for her, I eagerly can not wait to return to San Francisco with her as my wife, the thought of having her entirely makes me the happiest man alive. Bubble hadn't slept; he was on Liv's phone on the bed watching cartoons. The rascal chewed back a smile when we returned but, luckily, didn't say anything. I stayed by the door as the doctor came over to give Liv her night check. He administered the shot we had to convince that little smart boy was for joining his cartoon team, which even got him through his medication smoothly. When I left after they'd all settled in bed, I went to the kitchen and had one of the staff send two lollipops to their room, like the ones I used to get for hospital courage when I was young.

Spruced up in the darkest hues of a three-piece windowpane suit, jacket in hand, I groomed my hair as best I could without the aid of a hairdresser, slipped into polished shoes, and applied my cologne. Emerging into the room, I found the living area as tranquil as it had been the previous night. As I started towards the double doors to exit the quarters, I noticed Dad's office door was halfway open. He was behind his desk, busy with some paperwork. Sensing my presence, he stopped and we made eye contact.

"Aaron," he began, getting out of the chair and circling over towards the door, coming to where I was standing.

He was impeccably suited, intentionally refusing to acknowledge what had happened in Milan. Instead, he busied himself adjusting my tie beneath the waistcoat as if immaculate needed his marred assistance.

"Guessing you are having a good day," his voice was flat, his brow arched as he glanced at me. "On the other hand, I will be seeing the Hebrews and Raphaels to their departures this afternoon. Now that your engagement news is everywhere, you've succeeded in making us look like idiots to our business partners." He tittered, aggressively tightening the knot of the tie around my neck, perhaps to hurt or intimidate me. I frantically stopped his hands with a warning in my gaze and took a step back.

Maybe I don't have to address their silence and hostile expectations over empathizing with Liv's wellness. God was already serving them right.

"This is why we do not make rash choices that will beset us, Dad."

His smile was constrained, nodding with acknowledgment, and shrugged his lips in a non-committal manner.

With that, I headed out, not willing to allow my new day to be imperiled by Dad's tantrum over his rotten scheme against my relationship.

Keenan wasn't out there as he usually made himself present before I left our quarters. Maybe he overslept after the rough two days, and admittedly I am up earlier than usual. Lively might not have woken up either. Perhaps I can spend a few minutes with Grandpa. I couldn't see him yesterday with my emotions everywhere after his order, so I reckon now, after the good sleep I had, today is much better.

Knocking gently, he beckoned me inside. I twisted the doorknob, but it swung open before me.

Dane, Kyle, and Mason were seated at the far end of the dining table, breakfast spread out before them.

"Aaron, come here," the old man in his robe said, gesturing towards his Victorian mahogany chamber. Its large, arched windows and high ceiling were complemented by a full mezzanine level lined with bookshelves.

Sighing softly, I entered. Bernard closed the door behind me, and I carefully hung my jacket to avoid wrinkles on the backrest of the brown leather Chesterfield sofas clustered around a massive coffee table. I wended my way over to the table to join them.

"I was informed of your arrival yesterday, but when you didn't come to me, I assumed you were angry with me. Your feelings are justified," Grandpa began, as I settled into a chair next to Dane and poured myself a cup of black coffee from the teapot.

"Grandpa actually called my phone, but you wouldn't let Lively out of your sight," Kyle interjected defensively. My feral gaze snapped up sharply at him, and I set down the teapot.

"I wonder why," I curtly spelled out.

Kyle exhaled in frustration and stupidly held my incisive glare as if trying to bore a hole into his skull.

"Boys, please do not fight. How many times do I have to remind you of this? You are doing exactly what your parents are setting you up on," Grandpa beseeched, his voice tinged with disappointment.

"Even worse, over a girl," Mason asserted lethargically across from me, prompting a curt and irritated demand from me, "Can you shut it, Mason?" I cracked my neck from side to side, finding no relief.

"Aaron, let's be respectful!" Grandpa pleaded once again, but I couldn't suppress the mocking smile playing at the corners of my lips.

"Respectful?" I scoffed, causing Grandpa to frown with concern, clearly unhappy with my directness but it has to be addressed. "Why don't we start with why these feelings aren't reciprocated towards me anymore? Kyle, why don't you explain why, like a coward, you stood among the bystanders on the yacht? You didn't even bother to signal the captain to stop the yacht, instead choosing to watch in sick entertainment as Lively drowned."

"For fuck sake," Mason muttered, rubbing the bridge of his nose. His perpetual aggravation had always been a hallmark of his personality, but this time, it grated on my nerves more than usual.

Squinting in a bemused grimace, I found his attitude unnecessary and it only heightened my irritation.

"Mason, if you speak again, I might just have to strangle you into silence," I deadpanned, watching his eyebrows rise noncommittally. "The door's right there if this conversation displeases you. But let's be clear—I'm not to blame if your heart pumps ink instead of blood."

He smirked smugly but wisely chose to keep quiet.

"Aaron, I understand your frustration, but Kyle was in shock. We all know he didn't mean hurt to come to her," Dane interjected calmly from beside me.

"The irony is, for your sisters' sake, I've had to silence the voice of the victim. Otherwise, I will be seen as not supportive of the family that seems hell-bent on opposing my happiness," I retorted sarcastically, twirling my finger in a melodramatic gesture, purposely avoiding looking at him.

"I've only welcomed Lively, and you know it," he huffed. "None of us here have ever treated her in any way other than how you wanted since we realized she meant something to you. Direct your anger where it belongs, not at us, Aaron, and you know that," Dane defended.

"No matter how hard it gets, you can't lose your composure," Grandpa's measured and breathy tone lacked authority in his order. If this was his attempt at compassion, he failed miserably.

"So I can't lose my shit around my family, too, Grandpa?" I demanded challengingly, my voice steady. He looked away, unable to meet my daring gaze.

He shouldn't have insisted on Lively staying in this house without even considering my opinion. Of all people, he chose Aunty Kathleen to make decisions for me. As his daughter, he might see nothing but the image she portrays, but I can't trust my wedding plans in the hands of someone who has been hostile towards them. What's worse, they believe it's their right to take over without considering Liv's family's opinion, intentionally dismissing an opportunity to unite the two families and expecting me to have no say in the matter, all while silencing Liv in their favor.

My plan to involve Mary in the loop is concrete; she'll collaborate on what's best for her daughter's engagement party and subsequent events. If anyone deserves to organize this, it should be her. Unlike my mother or anyone else in my family, Mary has always wanted this for Liv and me. I almost choked up seeing the pain in her eyes when she heard about the party—it was like disinviting her from her child's wedding for no reason. I can't bear to see that kind of hurt in her.

"You're upset with me," Grandpa said wearily, gazing into the distance.

"It's more like stress," I replied, annoyed that he was offering help through the wrong channels. Taking a breath to steady my voice, I continued, "Grandpa, we've had clear conversations about what Liv means to me, and I'll say it again, in front of all of you: I'm not backing down from how I feel about her. Call it what you will, but I stand firm in saying these are my true feelings. I want nothing more than to have her by my side, to introduce her to the people who are a significant part of my life, so she can truly understand who I am. I'm supposed to show her all of me, but in this house, it's been nearly impossible. If it's not my parents, it's my aunts, or the twins with their unwarranted animosity. And then there's this whole environment, a place I told her never to return to six years ago. Yet, Grandpa, I had to persuade this wonderful woman to come back to a place that's haunted by her painful memories."

If our relationship starts with me constantly managing and mediating, what kind of marriage can she expect from me? I haven't exactly been a beacon of reassurance since she's known me. My goal was to show her a new side of me this time around, but it feels like I'm digging myself deeper into self-sabotage. There I was, clutching her wrist and bringing her to tears because, once again, I had to conform to this family's expectations.

"I can't force her to do things for my benefit or anyone else's. But yesterday, while she was recovering, I had to do just that. I don't think any of you understand how difficult that is." Our visions for the future diverge significantly. For them, it's about acquiring capital and titles, with little regard for anyone else. I am not even being brutal, because honestly, we all agree the boys aren't capable of making that kind of sacrifice. At least not yet.

"She's my choice for you, someone who brings you joy. I welcome her in and declare her as the future lady of the family. Do you think I want any harm to come her way? But Aaron, you must remember how serious what happened is. I insisted she move in with us because it was the wisest course of action. If she's exposed during these early days without understanding the family's terms and conditions, she'll talk the moment she's confronted. Here lies our moment of vulnerability, a juncture where we embrace new additions to expand our family for the greater good. If we go about it reasonably, it can enhance our unity, but remember, even a small misstep can jeopardize everything," he conveyed, his voice rasping with hesitation and concern.

Head in my hands, rubbing the throbbing vein at the center of my forehead, I stated firmly, "She won't talk." My patience was wearing thin.

"How do you know?" he pressed, his persistence unwavering.

She could have revealed the pregnancy long ago, tarnishing his precious reputation for money from the press, but she never did, despite hating me throughout those six years. If that isn't a testament to her fine morals, I don't know what is. I didn't voice these thoughts; revealing them would only have the old man shrink into a stroke and as much as our relationship is complex, I so love that man dearly.

Apart from Kyle, no one in my family knew about that period of my life when I could have had a child but I let it slip between my fingers, and he had thus far honored our secret pact. I intended to keep it buried, as bringing it up would only sow chaos, nothing more.

Sometimes I think about how different my life might have been if I hadn't let Liv go that day. Seeing that scar on her stomach brings back memories of my old search history filled with questions about the possibility of aborting a six-month pregnancy. I don't know how she managed it, and these last few days, it haunts me relentlessly. To this day, I haven't found the courage to ask her about it. She hides her body from me because of the scar, but what I saw was a tattoo that tells a story of her hardship and strength that serves as a reminder of how I failed her when she needed me most. I want to hide from it as much as I want to face it, to confront how cruel I was to her. I long to tell her how sorry I am, how much I despise myself, and that I am indebted to her for the rest of time.

Lifting my head, I glanced at him. Worry and curiosity blended into a grimace etched across his face and his eyes, which mocks my limited insight compared to his.

"She never spoke, Grandpa. That's the problem. Even though I didn't deserve her loyalty, she still gave it willingly. If you'll excuse me," I said abruptly, pushing back my chair and standing up.

"Oh child," Grandpa sighed from behind me as I grabbed my jacket from the sofa and charged towards the open door held by Benard.

"Good morning, sir."

The unexpected sound of Keenan's voice momentarily gave me a pause, not out of surprise but because I hadn't expected him to be waiting out there. I assessed him over my shoulder before continuing determinedly towards the staircase, with him following.

"Keenan, would you like to take a day off?" I offered after a moment of reflection, my voice sounding strange to me with the kindness I was trying to convey. It was something Liv had suggested, and I thought since she was here recovering nearby and adapting to changes for our sake, it would only be fair to apply her lessons on consideration.

His face registered a brief surprise before settling back to how it was.

"I've had a good rest, sir," he declined, confirming my earlier expectation.

"If you say so," I replied simply, descending to the second floor and heading straight for Liv's bedroom. It's nine; she should be awake by now.

"What would you like to do today, sir?"

Pausing, my memory of last night's before my time with Liv in the garden flooded back, and I turned to Keenan while evaluating with my guarded demeanor. "I need you to prepare what I sent you in the messages last night."

"It's already in progress," he reassured me, sparking joy in anticipation of the plan's effect on Bubble.

"Good," I said, rolling up my sleeves. "I'll go check on Liv."

From across the hall, the family doctor approached. My steps slowed curiously as I met him and shook his hand, standing by the guard stationed at Liv's door to prevent any uncivilized actions my family might attempt.

"How is she doing?" I inquired.

"She's improving rapidly; the swelling has gone down. However, she needs to complete the prescribed dose tonight, and then if you approve, she can start trauma therapy."

"If it's necessary," I replied.

"I strongly recommend it," the doctor continued. "Doctor Russo's notes indicate she may be struggling with the impact of that vulnerable moment leading up to the blackout, which could have lasting psychological effects."He explained, and I struggled to remain composed, gritting my teeth as anger surged through me at my failure to protect her that morning.

I wanted her to be looked after and had assumed having a doctor on hand was sufficient, without considering the enduring trauma she might face despite being under my care.

Swallowing hard, I nodded in agreement and turned to the guard, furrowing my brow in concern as I waited for him to reach for the doorknob. "Mister Aaron Wallace, Miss Kelby left for work this morning," he informed me.

Aghast, my facade faltered, eyes bulging, my jaw slackening as I struggled to comprehend what he had just said.

"You've proven yourself useless," my stare crudely supervised the bowed man's head before I swerved, lurching down the hall.

"Will you need the car ready, sir?" Keenan asked, trailing behind me.

"Of course, Keenan. I made it clear she won't be working for anyone anymore. Were you aware of this and didn't inform me?" I hissed.

"I wasn't, Mister Wallace," he rushed.

How intelligent, Lively.

God, give me patience. In the midst of this tumult of emotions, it's as if my family is pushing me to the brink, and then there's Liv. I can't even be angry with her. I'm just chasing after her to kiss her and somehow beg her to understand that she possesses a ring more valuable than the entire town combined. Soon, she'll be a Wallace and the head of the country club. Why does she need to work?