The-Wrong-Bride-Ares--Raven’s-story-(Maura,-Catharina)_bibis

Chapter Thirteen
ARES
“We’re planning to acquire the following streaming services,” Dom tells me as he gives me a highlevel
summary of the deals on the table, but I can barely focus on him.
I run a hand through my hair as he prattles on about my schedule, movies I should invest in,
sponsorship deals, and who knows what else.
I’ve always loved my fast-paced and high pressured job, but I need a fucking break. I haven’t felt
like myself for weeks now, and I can’t pinpoint what’s thrown me off so much. Is it my constant
arguments with Hannah and our approaching wedding?
Or is it Raven?
I keep trying to forget, but every time my thoughts wander, I find myself thinking of the way she sat
in my lap, her entire body on display for me. I’ve never seen her look at me the way she did that night,
and it’s a sight I can’t unsee.
I wonder who it is that had her so messed up that night. I’m not an idiot. It was obvious that she
was hung up on someone, and I can’t stand the thought of anyone causing her that much pain. What
would have happened if I hadn’t been there? Would she really have gone home with some random
guy? Or with her agent, John? Or would she have gone to the man she can’t seem to forget? The one
she said she loves? Who the fuck is it, anyway? I haven’t seen her with anyone in a long time. I sigh
and force myself to focus on my work, taking my time to read through the reports in front of me.
My office door opens unexpectedly, and Dom and I both look up in surprise. Hannah walks in, a
tight smile on her face. “I checked your schedule,” she tells me. “And it seems you’re free, right?”
I nod as she sits down in the chair on the other end of my desk. Dom gathers the documents he
brought with him and excuses himself, leaving the two of us alone.
“Hannah,” I say, surprised to find her here. I can count the amount of times she’s come to my
office on one hand. Being told that she owes her career to me is one of her biggest fears, so she’s
never allowed any rumors to form at all.
“What brings you here?”
She smiles tightly. We’ve barely spoken in recent weeks, and every time we do, we’re arguing.
Even on her birthday, we only had an hour of peace before she blamed me for not making enough of
an effort with her friends — the same ones she’s keeping our relationship from, neither confirming nor