Aaron's POV
I adjusted my attire—a crisp linen shirt and tailored trousers—as I stepped through the grand entrance. The air buzzed with anticipation, and the poolside lights danced on the water, casting an enchanting glow over the crowd. Laughter and clinking glasses filled the night.
My gaze swept over the revelers: men in linen suits, women in flowing dresses. But then my attention shifted to the figures in the pool.
Lewis stood by the edge, his charisma drawing people like moths to a flame. His black shirt was unbuttoned, revealing his skin, and his laughter echoed through the night.
"Aaron!" Lewis called, pulling me into a half hug. "Glad you made it."
He glanced at the people he was talking to. "You know who he is, don't you?"
"Of course, Aaron Liam," a lady in a transparent dress said, smiling and batting her eyelashes at me.
"Many people have seen the recent article about you and the pregnant lady."
An annoyingly familiar voice interrupted us. I turned to see Ariana (Jessie) walking toward us, clad in a bikini, holding two glasses of drinks. She walked with confidence.
The poolside lights danced on the water, illuminating the crowd as Ariana—Jessie, as she preferred to be called—stretched her hand toward me, offering a glass of Champagne. Irritation surged within me; I couldn't stand her.
"Don't refuse me, Mr. Liam," she said, her sly smile revealing hidden intentions. "It's my pool party, and it's my father's mansion. I bet you thought it was Lewis's party."
I accepted the glass, my irritation mounting. But Ariana wasn't done. She looked at me once more before walking over to Lewis.
And then it happened—the confirmation I'd suspected. Her hand on Lewis's chest, lips dangerously close to his. They kissed, and Lewis accepted it. My fists clenched as I watched them. Lewis, oh Lewis.
The crowd gasped, whispers spreading like wildfire. Lewis pulled away from the kiss.
"That's surprising, Lewis said.
Then Ariana traced her fingers on his chest. She stood behind him, her hand around his waist.
"How is it surprising for your girlfriend to kiss you?" she teased. "Don't act like we haven't done more than this, Lewis Connor."
Lewis grinned, his eyes locking with hers. "That's not what I meant."
The people watched, and rage burned within me. I wanted to release it to confront Lewis, but I held back. For now.
"I didn't know you both were dating each other, Lewis. My good friend Lewis, why didn't you tell me about it?" I said, my fake smile barely concealing my anger.
"Well now, you know, Mr. Liam," Ariana chimed in.
"I wasn't talking to you, Miss Jack," I retorted, my patience wearing thin.
Her equally fake smile didn't fool me. "It doesn't matter if I or Lewis say it. The answer will remain the same, right, babe?" She looked at Lewis, awaiting his response.
Lewis hesitated, caught between us. "Aaron already understood. You didn't have to ask me," he finally said to Jessie.
Jessie frowned, removing her hand from Lewis. I smirked; at least she wasn't getting her way.
"That reminds me, Mr. Liam," she continued, her sly smile returning. "About the pregnant lady in the article with you—was it true?"
"And who are you for me to answer?" I shot back.
The crowd leaned in, curious.
She looked around and chuckled. People are curious, Mr. Liam, and I am just asking because the lady looked like my bandmate, Margaret."
"Her face was covered, Ariana; how did you know it was her? Didn't you say she's in another country? And when did she start dating Aaron Liam? one of the people around us asks.
"She has been seeing her; they're friends after all," someone whispered.
Ariana scoffed and looked at the person. "Do not mistake bandmates for friends. We're just coworkers, and we have to be friendly with each other. How else is Jessie M going to work? I like Margaret, but how can I call her my friend when she made Lewis hate me before.Telling him lies about me just because he said he likes me?"
The murmurs intensified. Jessica was a witch, and my anger flared. I glanced at Lewis, but he remained silent, caught in the crossfire.
The tension in the air was sucking. Ariana's sly smile had turned to a frown, and I could barely contain my anger. The crowd whispered and murmured, their curiosity piqued by our confrontation.
"If murder were a noble deed," I thought, "I'd gladly commit it right now."
Ariana took another sip from her glass, her eyes fixed on me as she walked to me. "Yes, she was just my bandmate. Are you surprised?" She asked, her tone dripping with disdain.
"You know, sometimes, Mr. Liam," she continued, "it feels like you don't like me." Her sly grin taunted me.
I snatched the glass from her hand. "Yes, I hate you. Pure hatred," I retorted.
Her laughter echos. "I hate you too, Mr. Liam. Mr. Liam is funny; she laughed as she faced the crowd.
Lewis intervened, suggesting we walk somewhere private. I followed him, my anger boiling over.
"What happened? I thought you were dating Margaret," I demanded.
"Aaron, you haven't been in the country for a long time," Lewis argued. "Many things happened. Or did Margaret tell you anything?"
"Is she supposed to?" I shot back. "How can you move on so fast?"
Lewis clenched his chest. "I didn't move on, Aaron! I love her. The feelings—it's complicated. And her parents cut her off."
"So you're with Jessie for money?" I pressed.
"I'm also in love with Jessie! It's not just about the money!" Lewis ran his hand through his hair, frustration evident as he walked around.
"And what about Margaret? I yelled.
"I still love her, Aaron! It's complicated! You don't understand because you've never been in love with someone!" He threw the glass, and the glass shattered against the ground as he yelled.
"Fuck!,"he yelled.
I stormed away, anger fueling my steps. I dialed my bodyguard's number. "I need you to do something for me."