Chapter 2 The Weight of it

The next morning, Aria sat at her small desk at the marketing firm where she worked, staring at her computer screen without seeing it.

Her coworker, Mia Bennett no relation, just a coincidence of surnames that had made them fast friends on Aria's first day three years ago dropped into the chair beside her with two cups of coffee.

"You look like you haven't slept," Mia said, setting one cup in front of Aria.

"I haven't, really."

"What's wrong?"

Aria glanced around the open office, then lowered her voice. "My dad's company is about to go under. Sixty days, maybe less, before the bank forecloses on everything."

Mia's easy expression vanished. "Aria. That's -that's his whole life."

"I know." Aria wrapped both hands around the coffee cup like it might anchor her. "I keep running numbers in my head. Even if I gave him every cent of my savings, it wouldn't cover a tenth of what he owes."

"What about investors? Doesn't he know people?"

"He's tried. Nobody wants to touch a company that's already bleeding. Investors want growth, not rescue missions." Aria exhaled slowly. "I looked into loans myself last night. My credit isn't enough. Nothing is enough."

Mia was quiet for a moment, tapping her nails against her own cup. "There might be someone."

"Who?"

"You know my cousin works in corporate events? She's coordinating a gala next week for Blackwood International. Apparently, they're always looking for struggling manufacturers to fold into their supply chain buyouts, partnerships, that kind of thing. It's how they've grown so fast the last few years."

Aria's stomach turned at the word buyout. "I don't want my father to lose his company to some corporate takeover. I want to save it, not hand it to strangers."

"I know. But Aria  a buyout that keeps the doors open and the employees paid is better than bankruptcy that closes them forever. Isn't it worth exploring?"

Aria hated that Mia had a point. She thought of the sixty employees who still worked the factory floor, of families who would lose their income the same month her father lost his legacy.

"Blackwood International," she repeated slowly. "Isn't that run by-"

"Damien Blackwood. Yeah." Mia's eyebrows rose. "The Damien Blackwood. Ice cold, terrifyingly rich, never smiles in photographs. Rumor has it he hasn't taken a single meeting outside his own boardroom in over a year."

"Sounds delightful," Aria said dryly, though her pulse had quickened at the mention of the name she couldn't say why.

"You don't have to like him. You just have to get five minutes of his time." Mia squeezed her arm. "I can try to get you into that gala. It's a long shot. But if your dad's company is really going under, a long shot might be all you've got left."

Aria stared into her coffee, weighing pride against necessity, and finding necessity heavier.

"Get me in," she said. "I'll find a way to make my case."

She had no idea that the man she was about to approach had been searching for her quietly, patiently -- for seven years.