Chapter 100
Aria's POV
The morning sun filtered through my bedroom blinds, casting long shadows across my hardwood floor. My body felt heavy, the aftermath of last night's adrenaline still lingering in my system. Devon had left shortly after bringing me home from the police station, his presence remaining only in the faint scent of his cologne on my sofa.
I reached for my phone, wincing at the soreness in my muscles. Three missed calls from my father—undoubtedly about his birthday celebration today. I texted Sofia that I'd be working from home this morning, then tossed the phone aside and pulled the covers over my head. The images of Preston's pursuit and the rising water in my car flashed behind my eyelids. Despite my exhaustion, sleep remained elusive as my mind replayed the events on loop.
By mid-morning, I had showered, dressed, and summoned enough energy to face the inevitable. The Harper family birthday lunch wasn't optional, especially after the public scandal of my broken engagement. I chose a deep burgundy dress—conservative enough for my father's taste but fitted enough to make a statement. The color reminded me of power, of blood. Appropriate for the battlefield I was about to enter.
The Upper East Side townhouse loomed before me, its limestone facade bathed in the bright midday sunlight. Luxury vehicles lined the street—Bentleys, Maseratis, the occasional Rolls Royce. I took a deep breath, steeling myself as I climbed the familiar steps.
Victoria's eyes widened briefly when she spotted me in the foyer. For a split second, her perfect mask slipped, revealing the annoyance beneath. Then, like the seasoned actress she was, she plastered on a warm smile.
"Aria, darling! We weren't sure you'd make it." Her voice carried just enough to alert nearby guests to my arrival.
"I wouldn't miss Father's birthday," I replied, matching her false warmth. "After all, family is everything, isn't it?"
I watched her throat tighten slightly at the double entendre. She was wearing cream silk—always lighter colors to emphasize her false purity—and diamond earrings that had once belonged to my mother. The sight of them dangling from her earlobes made my stomach turn.
"Scarlett has been feeling a bit under the weather," Victoria offered, changing the subject. "She's resting upstairs."
I tilted my head with practiced concern. "I heard she had to visit the hospital recently? Nothing serious, I hope?"
Victoria's smile froze. "Just a check-up. You know how cautious we are with her health."
"Of course," I nodded, leaning closer as if sharing a confidence. "Especially given her... current condition. So delicate, these matters."
Before Victoria could respond, my aunt Frances swooped in, champagne flute in hand. "Aria! Finally decided to grace us with your presence. You should have come earlier to help your mother with the preparations."
"Victoria is not my mother," I replied automatically, my voice low but firm.
Frances looked scandalized. "After four years, you might show some respect by addressing her properly. The poor woman has done everything to make you feel welcome."
Victoria intervened, placing a hand on Frances's arm. "It's fine, really. Aria and I understand each other." Her eyes met mine in silent challenge.
"Speaking of understanding," I said, accepting a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, "I was surprised to hear about the Blake engagement. How interesting that the arrangement shifted so seamlessly from me to Scarlett."
Frances's expression shifted from disapproval to confusion. "What do you mean?"
"Oh," I feigned surprise, turning to Victoria. "Haven't you told the family? How Ethan and Scarlett became engaged just days after my relationship ended? Such a coincidence."
Victoria's face paled beneath her perfect makeup. "The business merger simply made sense—"
"What business merger?" Frances interrupted, now fully facing Victoria.
I sipped my champagne, watching the scene unfold. Victoria stammered through an explanation about partnerships and strategic alliances, each word digging her deeper into uncomfortable territory.
The tension broke when my father appeared, commanding the room as always in his tailored Tom Ford suit. "The lunch is ready," he announced, his voice carrying across the chatter. His eyes found mine, narrowing slightly. "Aria, come wish your old man happy birthday."
I approached him with a practiced smile, kissing his cheek lightly. "Happy birthday, Father. The party seems a success."
"Don't make a scene today," he murmured against my ear, his grip on my arm tightening slightly. "The SEC investigation into your company could resume at any time. Remember that."
He released me with a public smile, ushering guests toward the dining room. The threat hung in the air between us, invisible to others but crystal clear to me.
In the dining room, I immediately noticed Scarlett's empty chair. "Where's the guest of honor?" I asked innocently. "I thought Scarlett would be front and center."
Victoria's fork paused midway to her mouth. "As I mentioned, she's not feeling well."
"How concerning," I said, my voice dripping with insincere worry. "Perhaps someone should check on her? She's been missing so many events lately."
After a few more pointed comments, Victoria excused herself to fetch Scarlett, her composure visibly cracking beneath the perfect exterior.
When they finally appeared in the doorway, all eyes turned. Scarlett clung to Victoria's arm, draped in a pale blue dress that emphasized her supposed fragility. Despite the careful makeup, I could see the slight tremor in her hands and the unsteadiness in her gait. The abortion complications had clearly taken their toll.
"Sorry I'm late," she announced in that sugar-sweet voice that had fooled so many. "I was putting the finishing touches on Daddy's gift."
William beamed at her. "No need to apologize, princess. Come sit by me."