Aaron's confrontation.why did you go back to him.

As I traversed the bustling airport terminal, my entourage flanked me, diligently managing my luggage. Once settled in the plush confines of my vehicle, I prepared to reach out to Dr. Harlen. However, an unexpected call from Ace intercepted my intentions. Ace's calls were harbingers of turmoil—could something have befallen Margaret?

Answering swiftly, I greeted, "Hello?"

"Sir, she has departed the hospital with her newborn," Ace informed.

A faint smile graced my lips. "So she has delivered. I ought to congratulate her. To where is she headed? Are you in pursuit?"

"I am shadowing her, sir. She appears to be a route to her residence. However, she is not alone; Lewis and her father accompany her," Ace reported.

My brow furrowed, and with a surge of fury,i tightened my grip on the leather seat. "Lewis? Why is he with her?" I demanded.

"He has been a constant presence at the hospital post-delivery. As for their discussions, I'm not privy to the specifics," he admitted.

Silence enveloped me as I sank back into the seat's embrace.

"Sir?" Ace queried, but I had already severed the connection.

"Sir, shall we proceed to the hospital?" The driver inquired, casting a glance back.

"No, take me home," I commanded, surrendering to the solace of closed eyelids.

************************************

Upon arriving at my stately mansion, my bodyguards dutifully transported my luggage to my quarters.

I reclined on the plush sofa in the living room, persistently dialing Margaret's number, only to be met with silence. Her persistent nonresponse ignited a flicker of concern—was she deliberately ignoring my calls? The thought was unconfirmed, merely a whisper of doubt.

Seeking reassurance, I contacted Ace to ascertain that all was well on their end. His affirmation did little to quell the unease that had taken residence within me.

Restlessly, I set my phone aside and cradled my head in my hands, fingers raking through my hair in frustration. A sigh escaped me as I murmured to the empty room, "What is amiss with me?".

************************************

I awoke belatedly the following morning, the clock displaying an unforgiving 9:42 AM. Hastily, I prepared for the day, knowing my presence was expected at work.

Adorned in a bespoke suit, I stepped out of my mansion with an air of urgency. As I approached the car, a sudden impulse struck me—the notion of contacting Margaret from an alternate number.

Borrowing a phone from one of my bodyguards, I dialed her number. To my astonishment, she answered.

"Hello?" she echoed into the line, but before she could say more, I disconnected the call.

A cold realization washed over me; she was intentionally evading my attempts to reach her.

With a steely gaze, I declared to my chauffeur, "I'll take the wheel," and handed back the phone to its owner.

Slipping into the driver's seat, I sped off—not towards the office, but in the direction of Margaret's residence. My emotions were a tempest of anger and confusion as I navigated the roads with precision, tempering my speed to avoid calamity.

Do I have the right to be angry at her? The question plagued me as I drove.

Upon arrival, I parked haphazardly and exited the vehicle with a quiet intensity, slamming the door behind me. My pace quickened as I approached her door, my breaths coming in rapid succession.

The door swung open to reveal Lewis. Without hesitation, I brushed past him, my eyes scouring for Margaret.

Upon entering, my gaze fell upon Ariana and Margaret seated at the dining table, their expressions a blend of shock and disbelief.

"Aaron!" Lewis's voice trailed behind me, but I paid him no heed, my focus solely on Margaret.

I regarded Ariana with a look of contempt before turning to Margaret, whose wrist I seized, pulling her to her feet.

"Aaron, what is wrong with you? ,How did you know where I live and what has possessed you to barge into my home?" She protested, struggling against my hold.

A mirthless laugh escaped me. "I've been pondering that very question—what is wrong with me? Yet,I don't know the answer."

"Release me, Aaron!" she demanded.

A fleeting glance at Ariana revealed a smug smile playing on her lips.

Turning back to Margaret, I unleashed my fury. "You sit here breaking bread with those who have betrayed you. Are you aware that Lewis and Ariana have been secretly dating? That Ariana maligns you? That your mother's gifts and letters, entrusted to Ariana, never reached you?" My voice rose with each accusation.

The anger coursing through me was foreign; I could scarcely recall the last time it had surged so powerfully.

"Unhand me, Aaron! You're causing me pain!" She cried out.

"Do you revel in misery? How can you reconcile with Lewis after all he's done?" I roared.

"This is my marriage, Aaron—mine! Lewis confessed it was merely a dalliance with Ariana. The media distorts reality. And Ariana has delivered all my mother's correspondence; she claimed work had kept her occupied," she retorted.

Our eyes locked. "He said, she said... You've turned a blind eye to the truth, haven't you? My regret is not the kindness I've shown you; it's that I pity you," I declared.

A tense silence enveloped us before I finally released her. She cradled her wrist, marked by my grip—a stark reminder of the pain inflicted.

"I shall leave you to your life. Once I cross your door, let us act as if our paths never crossed—unless you choose to leave this marriage," I stated coldly.

"And who are you to dictate my choices? What are we to each other?" she challenged.

"That was not an answer," I replied tersely.

"If it's an answer you seek, then hear this—I will not abandon my marriage because..."

I interrupted her. "My apologies and congratulations," I said curtly, departing before she could finish.

Her response mattered little; 'I will not' was all I needed to hear.

I stormed out to my car and drove off,each strike against the steering wheel with my hand,a testament to my anger and frustration.

On the road, I dialed Ace. "Cease surveillance on Margaret. Return to the mansion; there are more pressing matters," I instructed.

"Sir... are you certain?" He inquired hesitantly.

"Absolutely," I affirmed resolutely.