Angela’s POV
I immediately pushed away the ridiculous thought that had crossed my mind. There was no way this had anything to do with Aaron Carter. Just hearing the name Carter was enough to make my body tense. I had to be losing my mind to even connect this situation to him.
I didn’t ask anything else. “Alright then. I’ll be leaving.”
I turned, ready to walk away.
Then I stopped.
In the distance, between the long rows of grapevines, someone stood slightly turned to the side. Tall. Expensive-looking suit. One hand tucked into his pocket. A posture that felt painfully familiar.
My chest dropped.
Slowly, the man turned his head.
And when his face came fully into view, my breath caught in my throat.
Aaron Carter.
My eyes widened. My heart slammed harder as reality caught up with me.
There was no mistaking it.
It was him.
I held my breath as he started walking toward us. With every step he took closer, it became harder to pretend he wasn’t there. I stared at the face I’d known for years.
He had always been handsome—but now… now he was dangerous.
The suit fit his broad frame perfectly. His posture radiated calm authority. The way he carried himself, effortlessly confident, made him look even more intimidating than I remembered.
My fingers trembled slightly.
I didn’t want him anywhere near me.
Then I realized something.
Aaron wasn’t even looking at me.
He walked straight past me without sparing a glance.
He wasn’t coming for me.
He was heading toward the man who had been standing beside me this whole time.
The man looked to be in his forties, dressed in a well-fitted suit with a relaxed elegance—polished, but not stiff.
“Mr. Whitmore,” Aaron greeted, his voice low and firm.
Mr. Whitmore shook his hand with a nod. “Mr. Carter. Sorry to keep you waiting. I assumed you’d go straight to the meeting room.”
“I wanted to see the vineyard first,” Aaron replied, his gaze sweeping across the vast stretch of vines.
Mr. Whitmore nodded. “Solace Winery is growing fast, but expanding into the international market requires a stronger strategy. We need the right distribution partner, and I wanted to confirm whether Carter Holdings is still interested.”
Aaron slipped his hands into his pockets. “That depends on the terms, Mr. Whitmore.”
Mr. Whitmore chuckled. “In that case, let’s discuss it inside.”
That was when Mr. Whitmore glanced at me, his brow slightly furrowing. Only then did I realize—I was still standing there, frozen, watching them.
“I’m sorry,” I said quickly. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. Please, go ahead. I’ll be on my way.”
But before I could move, Mr. Whitmore spoke again.
“You look familiar.”
My body stiffened.
I should’ve left earlier. I didn’t know what I’d been thinking, standing here like an idiot. And now I was stuck.
He studied me for a few seconds, then his expression shifted. “I’m sure I’ve seen you in a movie I watched recently.”
I took a slow breath and forced a small smile, even though every instinct in me screamed to run. “Yes. That’s right. I’m Angela Jones. I’m just starting out in the film industry.”
A wide smile spread across his face. “Ah. So I was right. You’re an actress.”
I nodded politely.
He extended his hand. “Jonathan Whitmore. Pleasure to meet you, Miss Jones.”
I shook his hand. “Just call me Angela. Nice to meet you too, Mr. Whitmore.”
He nodded, then turned back to Aaron. “So—do the two of you know each other?”
My blood went cold.
Before I could say anything, Aaron spoke.
Flat. Cold.
“I don’t know her. She was just returning my phone.”
The words hit me like a blunt blow.
It shouldn’t have surprised me.
And yet—it still hurt.
I forced a smile. “Yes. That’s all.”
My fingers tightened around the strap of my bag.
“Well then, I’ll be going.”
I didn’t wait for a response. I turned and walked away quickly, climbed into my car, and started the engine.
I let out a long breath.
Please… let this be the last time I ever see Aaron.
I glanced out the window once. Aaron and Mr. Whitmore were walking toward a building—probably the meeting room.
Aaron…
I hadn’t even been worth acknowledging.
With a heavy sigh, I grabbed my phone. Dozens of missed calls and messages flooded the screen. My eyes locked onto Beth’s name.
Angela, where are you?! We need to talk. Pick up your phone. Edward just confirmed the rumor that you and he have a “special relationship.” Is that true?!
My stomach dropped.
What?!
Beth had attached several screenshots of news articles. The headline made my blood run cold.
“Edward Kane Publicly Admits to a Special Relationship with Angela Jones. Did Angela Jones Use Edward Kane to Secure the Lead Role?”
Oh God…
What the hell is this?
How could he say something like that when our relationship had been strictly professional?
No. I had to get back to L.A.—now—and fix this before it spiraled completely out of control.
On the drive back, I tried calling Edward Kane several times.
No answer.
“Damn it.”
Frustrated, I tossed my phone onto the passenger seat and pressed harder on the gas.
The sky darkened as I drove toward Los Angeles. Green hills and vineyards faded into dusk. The road was quiet, only the occasional car passing by.
I tried to focus on driving, but my mind wouldn’t stop racing.
I barely noticed when my phone rang.
Edward Kane.
I slowed down, pulled over, and answered. “Hello?”
Silence.
A few seconds passed.
Then—
“Angela.”
My jaw tightened at the sound of his voice. “Mr. Kane, what you told the media just destroyed my reputation. Why would you do that?”
He sighed before answering. “I’m sorry. I didn’t have a choice.”
“You didn’t have a choice?” I gripped the phone tighter. “One sentence from you made everyone think I’m a woman who sells herself for roles—and you’re telling me you had no choice?”
“Someone threatened me. They know something about me. They forced me to say it. I really didn’t have a choice.”
My breath caught. “Who?”
Silence.
“Mr. Kane,” I said, my voice colder now. “Who told you to say that?”
“I can’t tell you,” he whispered. “He’s powerful. I can’t go up against him.”
My heart started pounding.
Powerful?
I took a slow breath, trying to keep myself from exploding.
“You dragged me into a scandal, and now you’re saying you can’t tell me who’s behind it?”
He was quiet for a moment. Then, softly, “Angela… I’m sorry. But I was forced.”
Then he asked something that made my blood turn to ice.
“Do you have an enemy who holds a grudge against you?”
A grudge?
My eyes narrowed.
One name surfaced instantly.
Aaron.
Could it be him?
He’d talked about revenge in that interview. About grudges.
My grip tightened on the steering wheel. I ended the call without another word.
A bad feeling settled deep in my chest.
I turned the wheel.
I needed to talk to Aaron.
Now.