Chapter 142
Aria's POV
I went upstairs and leaned against the banister, observing my father's rage with quiet interest. Victoria had been missing since morning—missing her charity luncheon, her hair appointment, and her meeting with the caterer for next week's gala. This wasn't like her, not at all. Victoria never missed an opportunity to showcase herself in Manhattan's social circles.
This was perfect timing.
Once safely behind my closed door, I pulled out my phone and dialed a number.
"Garrett? It's Aria Harper." I kept my voice low. "Do you have what I asked for? The information on Victoria?"
The private investigator's voice came through clearly. "Yes, Ms. Harper. I've been following her for the past week as requested. I have several photographs that might interest you."
"Send them to my phone. Right now."
I waited, heart pounding with anticipation, until my phone buzzed with an incoming message. The photos loaded slowly, one by one, and I felt a smile spread across my face.
There she was—Victoria Harper, my step-mother, locked in a passionate embrace with a handsome man I didn't recognize. They were in what appeared to be a hotel lobby, his hands on her waist, her fingers tangled in his hair as they kissed.
"This is from yesterday afternoon," Garrett explained. "The Carlyle Hotel, around three PM. I'm still investigating who the man is—your stepmother is very careful. I'll keep digging."
I studied the photo carefully. "This man might be Eugene Foster," I murmured. "The same person Victoria's been transferring money to. Keep investigating that angle."
"Consider it done, Ms. Harper."
"I need one more favor. Send these photos anonymously to this number." I recited my father's cell phone number. "Make sure it can't be traced back to either of us."
I ended the call and lay back on my bed, staring at the ceiling. Four years ago, Victoria had swooped in after my mother's death, marrying my father with indecent haste. And her daughter Scarlett had stolen my boyfriend. Together, they'd maneuvered to push me out of my family home, my company, and my inheritance.
But I hadn't forgotten. I hadn't forgiven.
I closed my eyes, allowing myself to doze while waiting for the inevitable explosion. Two hours later, I was jolted awake by the sound of shattering glass and shouting from downstairs.
The show had begun.
I changed into a simple white nightgown, tousled my hair as if I'd been sleeping deeply, and padded barefoot down the stairs. The scene in the living room was everything I'd hoped for.
My father stood in the center of the room, his face a dangerous shade of crimson. Victoria knelt on the floor before him, mascara streaking down her face. Scarlett was beside her mother, also on her knees, her eyes wide with shock. Around them lay the shattered remains of what had once been a priceless crystal vase.
"What's happening?" I asked, my voice soft with manufactured concern. "I heard shouting."
My father turned toward me, his hand clutching his phone so tightly his knuckles had turned white. "Your stepmother," he spat the word, "has been unfaithful."
"William, please," Victoria sobbed. "It's not what it looks like—"
"Not what it looks like?" He thrust the phone toward her face. "Then explain this! Who is this man? Tell me who he is!"
I moved closer, peering over his shoulder at the photo on his screen—the same one Garrett had sent me. Victoria's face crumpled as she saw it again.
"I don't know what you're talking about," she stammered unconvincingly. "That picture must be fake."
"You're lying!" My father's voice thundered through the room. "I recognize that dress. You were wearing it yesterday when you said you were going to your sister's house."
I covered my mouth with my hand, feigning shock. "Victoria," I whispered, loud enough for everyone to hear, "how could you do this to my father? After everything he's done for you?"
Scarlett's head whipped toward me, her eyes narrowing. "This is your doing, isn't it?" she hissed. "You're behind this somehow. You set my mother up!"
"Scarlett," I said, shaking my head sadly, "even now, you refuse to see the truth. The evidence is right there." I gestured toward the phone.
My father's breathing had become labored, his face growing even redder. I recognized the signs immediately—his heart condition was flaring up.
"Dad!" I rushed to his side. "Aisha, bring his medication! Quickly!"
The housekeeper hurried in with a small pill bottle. I helped my father to the sofa, poured him a glass of water, and handed him his heart medication.
"Take deep breaths," I instructed, rubbing his back gently. "Try to stay calm."
Victoria and Scarlett remained on the floor, watching as I cared for my father. The look on Victoria's face was priceless—a mixture of fear, hatred, and something else... was that respect? She knew she was witnessing a masterclass in manipulation, and for a fleeting moment, our eyes met in mutual recognition of the game we were playing.
God, it felt good to be the one pulling the strings for once.
Once my father's breathing steadied, Victoria crawled toward him, reaching for his hand. "William, darling, please listen to me. Yes, that photo is real, but there's an explanation—"
"Don't touch me," he growled, jerking his hand away.
"Dad, should I call Dr. Matthews?" I asked, the perfect picture of a concerned daughter.
"No." His voice was firm. "I want to hear what she has to say for herself."
Victoria took a deep breath, tears still streaming down her face. "William, I did this for our family," she said desperately. "The man in the photo... he's connected to Commissioner Bradley. He has influence that could help suppress those awful rumors about Scarlett and Ethan that might resurface. I was trying to persuade him to keep things quiet before the gala season. He... he made unwanted advances. The photo caught that exact moment. I pushed him away immediately after!"
I couldn't help it—a small laugh escaped me. I quickly disguised it as a cough, but Victoria's eyes darted toward me, fury blazing behind her tears.
"Do you expect me to believe that?" my father asked, his voice dangerously quiet.
"It's the truth!" Scarlett interjected. "Mom would never betray you, Daddy. This has to be some kind of setup. We should have the photo analyzed, see if it's been doctored."
"That's actually a good idea," I said, feigning reasonability. "If the photo is fake, we should find out. Victoria deserves to clear her name if she's innocent."
My father looked at Victoria, a flicker of doubt crossing his face. "Is that what happened? Was this just a misunderstanding?"
Victoria hesitated, her eyes darting between my father and me. She knew the photo was genuine, but she also knew my father wanted to believe her.
"The photo is real," she finally admitted, "but the context is all wrong. I swear to you, William, I've never been unfaithful."