Too Late Mr. White! I'm Married To Your Rival Now novel Chapter 335

Aria's POV

I woke up after ten, squinting against the morning light filtering through the curtains. Aiden was already dressed in a perfectly tailored suit, looking every bit the powerful CEO he was.

When he noticed my eyes open, he crossed to my side of the bed and scooped me into his arms with effortless strength. His lips brushed my forehead, warm and tender.

"I'm heading to the office, Mrs. Carter," he murmured, his voice still carrying that intimate tone from last night.

I hooked my arms around his neck, my brain still foggy with sleep. "Okay," I mumbled, reluctantly letting go and settling back against the pillows. I gave him a sleepy wave goodbye.

Aiden's lips curved into a smile, his eyes softening in a way I rarely saw. That look of tenderness lingered for a moment before he turned and left the room.

After a few seconds of lying there, my brain finally kicked into gear. I scrambled out of bed, shoving my feet into slippers, and rushed to the balcony just in time to see Aiden walking toward the front gate.

The massive doors soon blocked my view, but moments later his sleek black Bentley glided into sight before disappearing down the driveway. Only then did I head back inside to shower and start my day.

After breakfast, I texted Summer about my upcoming schedule. I hadn't entered any competitions this year, but I had two performances lined up for the second half of the year. They weren't in New York, but they were close enough—just a couple hours by high-speed train.

Summer was bringing the contracts over today for me to sign, and we planned to discuss next year's arrangements over lunch. After eating, I practiced piano for two hours before driving to meet her at eleven-thirty.

The restaurant was practically empty on a weekday at this hour. Summer had already arrived and waved me over the moment I walked in.

"Aria!" she exclaimed, studying my face with unusual intensity.

It had been nearly a month since we'd last seen each other. I wasn't wearing makeup today, but something about her expression made me self-conscious.

"Summer," I greeted, setting down my purse. When I looked up, she was still staring at me.

I touched my cheek nervously. "Do I have something on my face?"

She burst out laughing. "No! I just think you look even more beautiful than the last time I saw you."

I felt my face flush with embarrassment. "I haven't even been to the spa lately."

"You don't need a spa when you've got love working its magic," she teased.

My mind immediately flashed to last night, and I felt my ears burning red. "Let's look at the menu," I said quickly, desperate to change the subject.

Summer didn't press the issue, thankfully. She probably assumed it was just marital bliss making me glow.

After we finished eating, I outlined my work plans for the coming year. "I'm planning to enter just these two competitions next year. I want to gradually shift my focus toward performing domestically. For everything else, you can arrange whatever you think is best."

According to my original career plan, I'd already begun transitioning my work toward domestic performances this year. After all, I'd expected to marry Liam White and move here permanently. Long-distance would have been terrible for our marriage.

I'd planned everything so carefully—by year's end, I would have completely relocated my career. What I hadn't planned for was Liam leaving me at the altar, or that within two short months I'd be married to someone else entirely.

Life really does laugh at your plans.

Liam's desertion had left me hospitalized for nearly a month after the accident, followed by another month of recovery. My work had completely stalled—no competitions, barely any performances all year.

So my career transition would have to wait until next year.

Summer nodded, unsurprised by my plans. "I figured as much." She paused, giving me a hesitant look. "Actually, Aria, there's something a bit personal I wanted to ask—"

"Miss Jones, what a surprise to see you here."

A cold, familiar voice cut through our conversation. I looked up to find Vivian Duncan standing beside our table, her expression dripping with fake pleasantry.

I frowned slightly, confused by her approach. We barely knew each other. "Miss Duncan?"

She gestured toward her table across the restaurant. "My mother would like to meet you."

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