Desired by All and He Threw Away 34

Chapter 34 

Taylor’s POV 

The car hums beneath us a steady vibration that fills the silence. The afternoon sun filters through the trees painting gold streaks across the windshield.dust motes drift lazily in the warm light suspended like tiny memories refusing to settle. 

Aiden’s hands are steady on the wheel but the tightness in his knuckles tells another story.the faint sound of tires against asphalt mingles with the low murmur of the radio- a news anchor discussing Dylans statement again voice sharp and smug. 

i reach over and click it off before it can scrape any deeper into the aw space between us., 

for a while neither of us speaks.the only sound left is the engine quiet hum and the faint rustle of papers in my lap.i open my tablet the glow spilling across the dim car interior and begin typing notes. 

strategy.Structure. Control.Words that feel like armor. 

“so,” i say trying to keep my voice steady, “we need to focus on two things. Rebuilding your image -and finding concrete proof of Dylan’s manipulations.” 

Aiden’s jaw flexes as he glances at me briefly. “you make it sound simple.” 

“Its not,” i admit fingers tapping lightly on the screen. “but if we are going to fight back we have to be smarter.Hes playing public sympathy—we cant fight that with emotion.We need facts. Receipts.something that cant be twisted.” 

he exhales through his nose eyes still fixed on the winding road ahead.the light catches the faint stubble along his jaw the shadow there sharper than usual. “hes been hiding things for years, “he says quietly. 

“and if we dig we will find them.but we have to be careful.he may not have real power yet but hes got ambition- and people who see dollar signs when they look at him. 

They’ll protect him as long as he looks like their ticket to success.he knows how to spin a story before it turns on him.” 

i look down at my tablet my reflection staring back at me from the glossy surface. ” then we will learn how to dig where he doesnt expect it.” 

the corner of his mouth lifts slightly but it doesnt reach his eyes. “you sound like me.” 

i smile faintly. “maybe youre rubbing off on me.” 

his fingers tighten around the steering wheel just a flicker of tension before he loosens his grip again. “not sure thats a good thing,” he mutters. 

i tilt my head, studying him. “You mean being strategic? Controlled?” 

“i mean being cynical,” he says. “I used to think truth always won Now I just see how loud lies can get.” 

Theres something brittle in his voice that makes my chest tighten close my tablet, the click of the case soft but final. “youre not the only one whos learning that lesson,” 

i say quietly. “But we can still fight smart.we’ll map it out- every connection Dylan has every time he twisted someones story to save himself.” 

his gaze flicks to me again something unreadable behind his eyes. you really think we can fix this?” 

“i think,” i say slowly, “we can make it harder for him to hide.” 

he doesnt answer right away.instead, he leans back one hand on the wheel, the other running through his hair like hes trying to scrub away frustration thats settled too deep to touch the tension in the car feels almost physical now– coiled and restless like 

static before a storm. 

“i hate this,” he mutters under his breath. “i hate that people think Im that kind of man.” 

i swallow my throat tight. “they will see the truth Aiden.” 

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he shakes his head slightly. “No they will see what they want to se Thats how it always works.” 

the road narrows ahead, the light turning honey gold as the sum di lower his words hang between us heavy but honest. 

for a moment neither of us says anything the silence stretches thick with everything unspoken. watch his profile as he drives- the hard line of his jaw the slight furrow between his brows the fait pulse beating at his temple. 

beneath the controlled exterior i can feel it- the quiet fear the bued self doubt he wont let surface. 

“you know,” he says finally voice low, “i used to think control was everything. If I just kept things organized- my reputation my image my relationships–nothing could fall apart. But I was wrong.” 

i study him caught off guard by the quiet vulnerability threading through his words. 

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