Too Late Mr. White! I'm Married To Your Rival Now novel Chapter 26

Aria's POV

I took a deep breath, deciding to just dive in headfirst. If I was going down, I might as well go down spectacularly.

"Actually, we met at a charity gala," I began, weaving truth with fiction. "I was there with my... former fiancé." I noticed Evelyn's eyebrows raise slightly. "Aiden was across the room, and our eyes met."

I smiled, remembering not a romantic connection but the cold, calculating look he'd given me when I first approached him with my proposal.

"Nothing happened that night, of course. I was engaged to someone else." I stirred my tea, wondering how much Aiden had told his grandmother about my very public humiliation. "But fate has strange ways."

"Indeed it does," Evelyn agreed, her sharp eyes never leaving my face.

"After my engagement ended..." I carefully edited out the altar abandonment, "I found myself at a business meeting where Aiden was present. He recognized me immediately."

This much was true, at least.

"And you know your grandson—once he sets his mind on something, he's relentless." I forced a fond smile. "He pursued me quite... intensely."

Evelyn leaned forward, clearly delighted by this fictional version of her grandson. "Aiden? Pursuing a woman? That doesn't sound like him at all."

"Oh, he was very determined," I continued, warming to my story. "Flowers at my office, surprise lunch deliveries. He even showed up at my father's house to ask his permission to court me properly."

The lies flowed easily now, painting Aiden as some lovesick puppy instead of the cold-blooded businessman who'd married me for a piece of land and to fulfill his grandmother's wishes.

"I resisted at first," I said, adding a touch of truth. "I wasn't ready for another relationship. But he was... persistent."

"And when did you know he was the one?" Evelyn asked, completely captivated by my fictional romance.

I thought about how to answer, my fingers unconsciously tracing the diamonds at my throat. "When he looked at me like I was the only person in the room," I said softly, surprising myself with how much I wished it were true.

Evelyn reached across to pat my hand. "My grandson is a fortunate man, even if he doesn't always show it."

I swallowed hard, guilt twisting my stomach. After Aiden returned and we left his grandmother's estate, I'd have some serious explaining to do.

After my creative storytelling, Evelyn and I settled into easier conversation. She was sharp, witty, and had a wealth of knowledge on everything from classical literature to current politics. Time passed quickly as we chatted.

"Would you like to see some photos of Aiden as a child?" she asked suddenly, eyes twinkling with mischief.

"I would love nothing more," I replied, unable to resist the opportunity.

She led me to a handsome mahogany bookcase and pulled out several leather-bound albums. "These are my treasures," she said, guiding me to a comfortable settee where we could look through them together.

The first album contained baby pictures - Aiden as an infant with chubby cheeks and those unmistakable blue eyes. Even as a baby, he seemed to have that intense stare.

"He was always so serious," Evelyn commented, turning pages to show a toddler Aiden, rarely smiling but impossibly cute.

I studied a photo of young Aiden in a formal suit, standing stiffly beside a Christmas tree. "He looks uncomfortable."

"He hated those parties," she confirmed. "But Alex—his father—insisted. 'A Carter must always present the right image,' he would say."

As we continued through the albums, I began to see a pattern. Young Aiden, always impeccably dressed, always composed, but increasingly isolated in the photographs. Fewer images with friends, more of him alone with books or at formal events.

"Was he always so... reserved?" I asked carefully.

"Oh yes. Even more so after..." She turned another page, revealing a family portrait that made my breath catch. Aiden stood between a distinguished-looking man with his exact jawline and a beautiful woman with his eyes.He appeared to be around twelve years old.

"His parents?" I asked softly.

Evelyn nodded, her finger tracing the image of her son. "Alex and Eleanor. This was taken about a year before the accident."

"Accident?" I prompted gently, sensing her hesitation.

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