Breaking Free, Loving Again -The Flash Marriage with Mr. CEO-Chapter 523: Living off someone else’s credit.

In the late afternoon —

Emyr knocked at Aiden's office door and waited patiently for permission to enter.

"Come in," Aiden said without looking up from his laptop.

Emyr stepped in and bowed slightly. "Sir, you had given Mr. Foster time this evening. He would be arriving shortly."

Aiden paused in his movements briefly, but he didn't say anything. His expression didn't change. Just a sharp glint flashed in his eyes, and then, he nodded in acknowledgement.

Emyr lingered for a moment, waiting to see if there were any further instructions. But when Aiden said nothing else, he bowed again and quietly exited, returning to his station outside.

Meanwhile, Ryan hadn't forgotten about the meeting either. Rather, he had been waiting for it the whole day.

As his car neared the towering skyscraper, he glanced up through the windshield, eyes narrowing slightly.

It was one of the tallest buildings in the city —imposing and pristine —yet no one truly knew who owned it.

A few months back, the movement here had intrigued many, but when informed it was some new business getting started, people's interest faded.

Ryan's jaw clenched as he stared at the building for a long moment, but not long after, he drove in, manoeuvring the car to the underground parking lot.

Once parked, he stepped out and walked straight inside the building. Stopping at the front desk, he casually informed.

"I am here to meet your CEO."

The receptionist looked up at him, her expression polite. "Do you have an appointment, sir?"

He gave a stiff nod.

"Just a moment, please. I will once confirm it," she said, picking up the receiver and dialling the executive floor. After a brief exchange, she placed the phone down and stood. "You are expected, Mr. Foster. Please follow me."

She guided him to the elevator and accompanied him to the executive floor. When the door slid open with a soft chime, Emyr was already waiting outside.

The receptionist bowed to him before turning to gesture to Ryan.

"Sir, Mr. Ethan would be escorting you from here."

Ryan's eyes flicked to Emyr, recognizing him from the video he had seen before. He gave a short nod and stepped out.

'Good evening, Mr. Foster," Emyr greeted with a composed smile. "I am Emyr Ethan, CEO Aiden Winslow's secretary. Please come this way."

Ryan followed in silence, his footsteps measured and calculated. Soon, they reached the large double doors of Aiden's office.

Emyr knocked once, and upon hearing the low voice of approval from within, opened the door and stepped inside.

"Sir, Mr. Foster is here," he announced, then turned to Ryan, gesturing for him to enter.

Ryan stepped in —and his gaze locked immediately on Aiden Winslow, who sat behind his desk as if sitting on a fu*king throne of the universe.

The condescending aura was real … and strong.

So much that for a second, it even intimidated him, but then he quickly composed himself back in his stance.

Aiden didn't move immediately. He glanced up lazily, but his eyes held an unmistakable edge of calculation. He let his gaze trail over Ryan from head to toe, slow and unhurried, as if assessing an asset —and not liking what he saw.

The tension surged almost instantly. It was thick and electric.

Unbothered, Aiden stood and pushed his chair back with calm, deliberate grace. He adjusted his cuffs slowly, never breaking eye contact.

Emyr sensed the shift in the room and took a silent cue. With a respectful bow, he excused himself and shut the door behind him.

Aiden finally spoke as he stepped away from his desk, heading to the seating area.

"You requested a meeting with me," he said evenly. "What is it for?"

Ryan hadn't planned on following him, but at that moment, he found himself compelled to. Keeping his expression tight, he moved after him toward the couch.

"There is a lot I want to know about you, Mr. Winslow," Ryan said, his tone clipped. "And for that, I thought it would be better if we came face to face."

Aiden paused in his steps, then turned to look at him. A slow smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. He gave a short laugh —quiet but unmistakably derisive.

"Know about me?" he repeated, amusement laced with something darker. "I never knew Mr. Foster held such twisted interest."

Coming from someone else, the words might have passed as a joke. But from Aiden, they were laced with quiet mockery and cold indifference.

Ryan's jaws clenched, and his fingers curled into fists. He glowered at Aiden, but the latter remained utterly unfazed.

Settling into the couch with ease, Aiden simply nodded. "Fine. Tell me —what is it you want to know about me, Mr. Foster? As far as I recall, my last thank-you note should have delivered enough useful information about me to you. Hasn't it?"

He purposely reminded him of it. And seeing the remembrance flash in his gaze, he smirked.

They had barely begun the conversation, and yet Ryan already felt his composure slipping.

He never thought it would be so difficult.

Grinding his teeth, he walked over and sank stiffly onto the opposite couch, facing him head-on.

Staring straight into Aiden's eyes, he asked tightly, "Was it you who saved Arwen the night of the car accident?"

"It's Mrs. Winslow for you, Mr. Foster," Aiden corrected coldly. "Care to hold your manners the way a gentleman should?" His gaze narrowed with icy precision.

Ryan stiffened, the title burning more than any insult could have.

He gritted his teeth, his eyes locking onto Aiden with a barely suppressed scowl. But Aiden, sitting with relaxed posture, looked thoroughly unbothered —as though Ryan's presence there was little more than a fleeting distraction.

He observed him like one would a mildly entertaining show —with faint amusement and calculated indifference. fɾēewebnσveℓ.com

"You haven't answered yet," Ryan ground out when even after a moment, he didn't hear Aiden responding to his question.

Although he already knew it was him that night and his response was almost unneeded, he still wanted to hear it from him —to pry out the real intent behind his so-called heroism.

Even after so many days, Ryan couldn't bring himself to believe that it was simply a coincidence.

Everything happened too smoothly to be called a mere coincidence.

No matter how many times he watched the video footage from that night, he felt his appearance there was meant to be … for Arwen.

"I don't see the need to discuss my and my wife's affairs with you, Mr. Foster. They are none of your concern," Aiden said with deliberate ease.

Ryan's nostrils flared, and he couldn't take it anymore. Snapping, he said, "She was engaged to me when that accident happened."

"And yet, you walked away … ignoring and leaving her there in such a state —like her life held no worth."

This time, Aiden's voice didn't hold any nonchalance. It was sharp, cutting —layered with suppressed fury.

A fury that he had been suppressing all along.

From the night he saw Arwen stuck in the wreck of that car, bruised, bloodied, and barely breathing —helplessly waiting for death with no one by her side.

The image had etched itself in his mind.

And the fear … the terror of what could have happened if he had arrived even a minute later still gripped him sometimes in the dead of night.

He hadn't been able to let it go.

Ryan's gaze that was fixed on Aiden, could no longer stare at him the same. Embarrassment engulfed him, and he looked away, not holding enough confidence in himself anymore.

He wanted to explain himself, but deep down he knew —no explanation would sound good enough.

"Thank you for saving her that night," his voice came almost like a whisper, buried beneath the weight of the blame he carried. "Thank you for taking her to the hospital and —"

"Who do you think you are to thank me for saving her?" Aiden's voice rose, deep and raw —a growl laced with barely controlled rage. "When I saved her, she was nothing to you. Or, rather I would say she was never anything to you."

"..."

Ryan lifted his eyes, ready to protest, but Aiden cut him off with the blade of his words.

"Seems like over time, you have gotten so used to living off someone else's credit ... you have forgotten they were never yours to begin with."

Ryan's brows drew together, confusion shadowing his expression. He stared at Aiden, trying to grasp the meaning behind those words —but no matter how he tried, the intent eluded him.

"What do you mean?" he asked, his voice strained.

Aiden's jaws ticked as he stared down at him, his eyes burning with a truth that seemed to be forgotten.

"I just meant to remind you," he said coldly, "that she was never meant to be yours. Not then. Not now. And when something is not meant to be yours, no matter how hard you try to claim it —you can never truly have it. Not by pretending. Not by lying. And definitely not by being someone you are not."