Chapter 78_ Rage

As Arya and Chloe were chatting together and clinking glasses, they heard familiar voices nearby.

“Hey, are you done staring, or would you like a picture?” Martina said, a frown etched on her face.

“Can I really have a picture?” Piston asked with a silly smile that made Martina give him a funny look.

“What? No.” She replied.

"But you said—"

“That was sarcasm, idiot. You better keep your eyes toward the bottom of your glass.” Martina said, shooting Piston a glare, and he bowed apologetically.

"I'm sorry. It's just that you're so beautiful; I didn't mean to offend you.”

Listening to their exchange, Chloe grabbed Arya's arm tightly, pointing in Piston's direction. “I don't know what's in these drinks, but I see that pervy bald friend of yours right there. And all well-mannered.”

"It's not the drinks’ fault. He’s here, and I think he's working hard to change,” Arya replied as they turned to Piston and Martina's direction.

"I don't care what you meant. Stop bothering me,” Martina said.

"But I was just—" Piston trailed off when he noticed Arya staring at them, and he sent her a pleading look, desperate about how to face the situation he was in in a civilized manner.

Seeing the pleading look in his eyes, Arya sighed and grabbed her drink as she stood up and walked towards Martina. “Martina, it's so nice to see you out of the office. How are you?” Arya greeted.

“Hi, Arya. I didn't see you there. How—”

“Wait a minute.” Arya cut Martina’s words off as she looked surprised at her, then at Piston, and again at Martina.

“I can't believe you know my old friend Piston,” Arya said, giving Martina a meaningful look.

"We… We don't actually know each other. We—” Martina said, and Arya cut her off again.

“Well, you should. This guy is great. He’s had my back since we were kids. Come here, Piston. Meet Martina—a very energetic colleague of mine,” Arya said.

"Really?" Martina asked, and when Arya nodded, Piston chimed in with a nod.

"Hi, Martina. I'm Piston. And I'm sorry if I upset you before. I was just—"

“Oh no, please. I hope you will forgive me for my manners; I didn't know you were Arya's friend. And girls always need to keep their guard up,” Martina said, flashing Piston a smile.

“Don’t worry; I understand. In fact, from now on, if someone bothers you and I'm around, just give me a sign and I'll take care of it,” Piston said, and Martina let out a small laugh.

"Thanks,” she said, and while she ordered another drink, Piston leaned towards Arya and whispered in her ear, "Thank you, Arya. I was panicking there."

Arya nodded, "It's alright. Now just keep things casual; don't overdo it, and you should be fine,” she said as she returned to Chloe, who had been watching the whole scene and trying to keep her jaw off the table.

“Are you sure he's the same guy and not his good identical twin or something like that?” Chloe asked when Arya sat in her seat.

“He’s one hundred percent Piston. And I'm really shocked by the way he’s changing himself,” Arya said, and Chloe nodded as they sipped on their drinks, making conversation here and there about each other and giggling together as they enjoyed each other's company.

It was past midnight when Arya got back to the hotel, and as she entered the room and closed the door behind her, she saw Kane removing his jacket. It seemed as if he just got back as well.

“There you are. Where have you been? I almost had a heart attack when I got here and didn't find you,” Kane said, and Arya frowned.

“I was out since you completely forgot about me. I’ve called you more than once today,” Arya said.

"I had a business meeting that lasted all day. I couldn't answer my phone,” Kane said, and Arya nodded as she got closer to him, but a perfume she didn't recognize tingled her nose, and she stepped back with a frown.

“And where the hell was this meeting of yours? In a perfume factory?” she asked with a scowl.

“Perfume? What are you talking about? I was at a very important meeting and—” Kane trailed off when his phone dinged with a message, and he took it immediately from his pocket to check.

“Who's texting you this late at night?” Arya inquired as she tilted her head to the side.

Kane looked away from his phone and at her. “It's just work."

“Sure… work," Arya said as she crossed her arms and looked at him with a less-than-amused expression.

“What? You don't trust me now? Hey, I’ve got nothing to hide. But if we have to play this, I want to play with all the cards on the table. Tell me you don't trust me, and I’ll give you my phone right away,” Kane said, and seeing how confident he looked, Arya hesitated, biting her lip as she mused, ‘He's right. I might be overreacting.’

“Keep your phone; I don't need it. I'm just a little more stressed than I would like to be,” Arya said with a sigh, and Kane nodded.

"It's okay. I feel stressed too. I like to compete on the racetrack, not behind a desk. It's eating me alive. But as long as we can count on each other, there is nothing—” Kane said, and just as he tried to make a gesture towards Arya, his phone slipped from his fingers and flew across the room, tumbling onto the carpet at Arya's feet.

Instinctively, she bent down to pick it up and saw the preview of the text from Evelyn: ‘It was so nice to—’ unable to suppress her curiosity and the suspicion she had, Arya clicked on the phone and read the whole message: “It was so nice to talk about the old days. When are we going to see each other again?”

Kane shook his head and rushed to explain, “It's not what it looks like, Tigress.”

Arya tossed his phone on the bed while a blind rage started boiling inside her chest. “No, Mister. You don't get to ‘Tigress' me after spending the whole fucking day with that arsonist bitch and lying to me about it.”

Kane rubbed his temples as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’ll explain it later, Arya. I don't think—”

"Later, my ass. You are going to fucking explain everything right now,” Arya flared,

“You don't get to talk to me like that, Arya. I did nothing wrong, and it seems unfair to try to pin whatever you're making up in your head on me,” Kane said almost calmly.

"You are here talking about right and wrong… and you still smell like her,” Arya retorted stubbornly.

"Look, Arya. I get that you are stressed and all, but you're completely out of line here,” Kane said.

"I'm not out of line here; I’m stating facts! Maranello. After all, your reputation precedes you. Kane Maranello, the notorious playboy. Are you back to holding your title and frolicking around? Aren't I enough for you?!” Arya said, and Kane’s eyes burned with rage, a rage Arya had never seen before. He clenched his fists, turned around, and walked out of the room, slamming the door.