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Chapter 12 - Chapter Twelve- This is Nolan Crane

Eyes and ears?

Like...a spy?

HE WANTS ME TO SPY ON MR CRANE!

I'm still trying to wrap my head around Gaines' words. Spy on Mr Crane? The audacity leaves me speechless for a moment. I look at the spot where the wine spilled on my cloth and my fingers tighten around the glass of wine in my hand.

"You look troubled, Aria." His tone is casual, but his sharp gaze betrays his true intent. "This isn't a difficult decision. A little information, a few favors, it's a win-win."

I shake my head, my thoughts racing. "I don't think you understand," I start, my voice steady despite the turmoil going on inside my head. "This isn't something I can—" 

My phone buzzes, cutting me off mid-sentence. I quickly fish it out of my purse and glance at the screen. Mom.

This is the second time my mum is calling me this week. Very strange indeed. I hesitate, unsure if I should answer, but something about the timing feels urgent. Gaines leans back, watching me intently. 

"Go ahead," he says, gesturing to the phone. "I can wait." 

Reluctantly, I pick up. "Mom?" 

Her voice comes through in a rush, frantic and cracking. "Aria! Oh, thank God you picked up." 

I sit up straighter, the panic in her tone immediately setting me on edge. "What's wrong?" 

"It's… It's about your brother." 

My stomach drops. Josh? "What about him? Have you been able to get in touch with him?" 

Her words tumble out in bits, each more alarming than the last. "He… he got into some trouble with the police. I don't know all the details, but he's in serious trouble, Aria. They're saying he could go to prison. We can't let that happen." 

The room feels like it's spinning. "Prison? Mom, what are you talking about? What kind of trouble?" 

"I—I don't know all the charges yet, he got involved with some really terrible people" she stammers, her voice breaking. "And it's bad. Really bad. We're looking at a jail time of up to five years minimum. They're asking for…" She pauses, and I can hear the hint of a sob in her voice. "They're asking for $50,000 to drop the case." 

"$50,000?!" My voice comes out louder than I intend, drawing a raised eyebrow from Gaines, who's clearly intrigued by my side of the conversation.

"Mom, I don't have that kind of money," I say, lowering my tone. "How am I supposed to—" 

She cuts me off, her desperation pouring through the phone. "I know, but we don't have any other options. I talked to Philip earlier. He said he might be able to help, but he needs time to pull the money together." 

I wince at the mention of Philip, who my mother has been trying to push on me for years. "Mom, Philip is not my responsibility. Why are you even involving him in this?" 

"Because he cares about us, Aria! If only you would just come back… maybe consider marrying him—or even just dating him—he could help immediately." 

My jaw drops, and for a moment, I'm too stunned to respond. "Are you serious right now? You want me to trade myself for Josh's freedom?" 

"Aria," she says, her tone turning pleading, "It's not like that. I'm just saying… he could help us. You know he's always liked you." 

"Mom, this is insane!" I snap, my voice rising despite my best efforts to stay calm. Gaines' ears perk up more as he listens with amusement. 

"I just… I don't know what else to do," Mom whispers, her voice trembling. "Please, Aria. I just need you to find a way. Your dad is only just recovering and he can't do anything. If not Philip, then… something. Anything." 

I sigh in frustration. "I'll figure something out," I say through gritted teeth, desperate to end the conversation. "I have to go." 

"Thank you" she says quickly. "Just… please don't let us down. We're counting on you." 

The call ends with a click, and I stare at the phone in my hand blankly

"Family troubles?" Gaines' voice cuts through the silence. 

I look up to find him watching me, his expression almost… predatory. "It's none of your business," I say flatly, tucking my phone away. 

"Come now," he says, leaning forward. "You can't expect me to pretend I didn't hear that." 

I glare at him, my hands curling into fists. "Whatever you're about to say, don't." 

He lets out a sinister chuckle. "I'm just offering to help. That's all." 

"Well, I don't need your help," I snap, standing abruptly. "You can take your offer and shove it. Tell Mr Crane whatever you want—I don't care." 

I really do care, but all I can think of right now is leaving this place as soon as possible and think of what to do next. I quickly drain my glass and grab my purse off the table.

As I'm about to stand up, his next words freeze me in my tracks. 

"I know about your brother, Aria." 

I whirl around, my heart pounding. "What?" 

Gaines rises slowly, his movements deliberate. "Did you think I'd come to this conversation unprepared? I did some digging and was informed of your brother's predicament just this afternoon." His grey eyes glint like a cat's. "Josh, isn't it? Bright kid. Well, brighter than your father at least." 

"You have no right—" 

"I have every right," he interrupts smoothly. "And I'm offering you a way out. $200,000. Enough to settle whatever is going on. All I need from you is a little cooperation." 

What?

His words hang in the air for some seconds, heavy and suffocating. My throat feels dry as I process Mr. Gaines' offer. Two hundred thousand dollars! The sum echoes in my mind, tempting and treacherous all at once.

"It's a fair deal, Aria," he says, his words laced with quiet confidence. "I won't tell on you and you earn money from just helping me gather some harmless info. I'm sure you'll make the right choice."

My conscience screams at me, urging me to say no, but I can't open my mouth to say it. If I accept Gaines' offer, maybe I can even negotiate with him and get him to give me more...say like almost half a million?

That would be enough to clear all my debts and solve the current problem at hand too, while even leaving me enough to get a more decent apartment.

My mind goes to Mr Crane and I immediately feel guilty. But it would just be me snooping around a bit for harmless information. That wouldn't hurt anyone right? I weigh the options in my head for what seems like a minute.

"I can't do it," I finally say, my voice shaky but firm. "I won't betray his trust."

"How much do you want?"

I gulp before saying, "Do you think everything is about money?"

Gaines calmly sits down again and leans back, his smile fading into something darker. "Suit yourself," he says, his tone icy. "But don't think this is the end. You'll come around. I'll make sure of it."

"I'm not changing my mind." I say, standing my ground.

He reaches into his suit's inner pocket and pushes a business card across the table. "Not so fast. Take it and give me a call once you change your mind. I will be expecting your call."

I hesitate at first but then snatch it up and shove it into my purse. "Goodbye Mr Gaines," I say stiffly and quite coldly as I walk out of the room, almost bumping into a waiter bringing in a tray. 

As I step outside the restaurant, the cold evening air hits me like a splash of water, clearing my foggy thoughts but doing nothing to ease the weight in my chest. The city buzzes around me—cars honking, people laughing—but it all feels distant, as though I'm moving through a bubble. I quickly hail a cab and it gets me home, half an hour later.

By the time I reach my door, I fumble with my keys, pushing the door open and stepping into the dark, quiet space I called home.

I drop my bag on the couch and sink into it, burying my face in my hands. After a while, I grab my phone and order pizza which is delivered to my doorstep in ten minutes. I gobble it up, take a quick shower and tuck into bed for the night, lying on my back and staring at my ceiling

"Josh…" I whisper.

My younger brother's face flashes in my mind—his mischievous grin as a kid, the way he'd always sneak cookies before dinner. How, even as adults, he'd always tease me about my height and call me shortie even though I was just three inches shorter than him at 5'10.

He'd always been a bit of a troublemaker, always getting on my dad's nerves and getting into trouble with girls at college, but this? This was something else entirely.

He'd disappeared shortly after my father's scandal broke, vanishing into the chaos. No one has been able to get in touch with him since, and now this bombshell.

"What did you do?" I mutter, closing my eyes.

My thoughts spiral and the debt I owe, the one that needs to be paid in two months, looms large in my mind. It's like I'm stuck in a pit, and every rope thrown my way is frayed and dangerous.

Where in the world can I get fifty thousand dollars to help my brother?

My father has no family members I can go to meet for help. He had been a orphan with no siblings and his uncle who raised him has been dead for the past ten years.

What about my dad's old friends? They'd abandoned him the moment his company and power crumbled, and ignored all our pleas for help even when my father fell sick. Mr Gaines is one of them.

That leaves my mother's side of the family which is out of the question because they are all as poor as mice: Aunt Clara, a retired seamstress scraping by on her meager pension; Uncle Greg, whose health kept him homebound; and Cousin Marie, who was already juggling three jobs. They barely had enough for themselves, let alone enough to borrow me.

My mind flicks briefly to Mr Crane. He is a multimillionaire after all, but the thought of asking my boss for help is ridiculous. I'm just an employee, a new one at that.

"No," I mutter, shaking my head. "That's not an option."

My eyes drift to my bag, where Gaines's card sits, tucked away. I sit up on my bed, reach for my bag on the table and pull out the card. I've made my decision.

My fingers hover over my phone. I hate myself for what I'm about to do, but what choice do I have?

I quickly dial the number and press the phone to my ear, my hands trembling as I brace myself for this conversation.

The line rings twice before it connects. "Hello?"

I take a deep breath before speaking. "Mr Gaines. It's Aria. I've been thinking about… everything that happened tonight," I start, my voice soft but hurried. "I know I left abruptly, and I'm sorry about that, but I needed time to process. What you asked me to do was… a lot."

There's a pause, but I press on, unable to stop now.

"Honestly, Mr. Gaines, I get the impression you're not used to people saying no to you," I continue, choosing my words carefully. "But tonight, you put me in a very difficult position. You caught me completely off guard."

"But—"

"Please, just let me finish," I say quickly, glancing at the ceiling like it might suddenly open up and pour out money on me. "I understand your motives but I don't think I'm the kind of person who can just go along with something like that without a second thought."

I pause, drawing in a breath. "I need the money, desperately, but I… I was wondering if there's any way you'd consider giving it to me without me doing the... thing you want me to do?" My voice drops to barely above a whisper, and I bite my lip.

There's a soft exhale on the other end, but it's impossible to tell what he's thinking.

"Maybe we can think of a different arrangement," I suggest nervously. "Or you could treat it like a loan? I'll find a way to pay you back when I can. I just…" My words falter, and I look down at my lap. "I don't know if I'm cut out for something like this."

"Miss Cole, I—"

"Please," I cut him off gently, clutching the phone tighter. "I know you must think I'm overreacting, but this is just so overwhelming for me. You're a very powerful man, Mr. Gaines, and I respect that. I do. But this… this is too much for me to handle right now."

"Miss Cole." his voice breaks through again, calm and measured.

I blink, confused by the tone. "Yes?" I say hesitantly, hoping he's about to agree.

"This is Nolan Crane."

The words hit me like a bolt of lightning.

"What?" I breathe, my voice no louder than a squeak.

"This is Nolan Crane," he repeats, and there's no missing the sharp edge of his voice now.

I freeze and the room tilts, my heart slamming against my chest as the revelation hits me.

Oh no. Oh no, no, no.

My stomach twists into a knot as I clutch tightly to the phone in my hand. Slowly, almost mechanically, my gaze drops to the business card I grabbed earlier. My fingers tremble as I turn it over.

Bold, black letters stare back at me: NOLAN CRANE.

The air leaves my lungs.

For a moment, I can't even process it. Then the realization dawns slowly, creeping up on me until it crashes like a wave.

I mixed up the cards.