Chapter 152
Aria's POV
The contrast between us couldn't have been more stark—him seated comfortably, every movement refined and controlled; me standing rigidly, barely daring to breathe too loudly. The silence stretched between us like a taut wire.
"I can't prove it," I finally said, breaking the heavy quiet. "I have no evidence that I didn't contact Ethan, because proving a negative is impossible."
Devon looked up from his plate, his expression unreadable. He dabbed the corner of his mouth with a napkin before responding.
"Then what would you have me believe, Ms. Harper?" His voice was calm, almost pleasant, but I recognized the danger lurking beneath.
"If you don't trust me, there's nothing I can say that will change your mind." I squared my shoulders, a strange calm settling over me. "So do whatever you think is necessary."
Something flickered in Devon's eyes—surprise, perhaps, at my resigned tone. He pushed back from the table and approached me slowly, like a predator stalking prey. Every instinct screamed for me to back away, but I held my ground.
Without warning, his hand shot out, fingers wrapping around my throat. Not squeezing, not yet, but the threat was clear.
"Perhaps I should handle this personally," he murmured, his face inches from mine. "No need to involve anyone else."
I felt his pulse through his fingertips, or maybe it was my own racing heartbeat. His thumb moved slightly, finding the delicate spot where my pulse throbbed beneath the skin. A strange expression crossed his face—something like satisfaction at feeling the physical evidence of my fear.
Yet I didn't struggle. I looked directly into his eyes, my gaze steady despite the terror coursing through me.
"If that's what you want," I whispered.
For several heartbeats, we remained frozen in this macabre tableau. Then, as suddenly as he'd grabbed me, he released his hold.
"Since you claim there was nothing, I'll choose to believe you. For now." He turned away, buttoning his suit jacket. "Consider yourself fortunate."
Relief flooded through me, quickly followed by a wave of anger at myself for feeling grateful to a man who had just threatened my life. But as he moved, I noticed a dark stain spreading on his white shirt cuff—blood seeping through the bandage on his wounded arm.
"Your wound is bleeding again," I said, my voice steadier than I expected. "Let me help you with that."
He paused, looking over his shoulder at me with mild surprise.
"There's a first aid kit in the bathroom," he said after a moment, beginning to unbutton his shirt.
I retrieved the kit and returned to find him seated on the edge of a leather sofa, shirt partially open. The sight of his bare chest momentarily distracted me—the defined muscles, the smooth skin, the intriguing trail of dark hair disappearing beneath his waistband. I forced my eyes to the bandage on his belly, where blood had indeed seeped through.
As I carefully removed the soiled bandage, I gasped at the sight of the wound. It was deeper than I'd imagined, the edges red and raw. The reopened gash looked painful, and I wondered how he'd maintained such composure.
"This hasn't healed at all," I murmured, dabbing antiseptic on the wound. "It keeps reopening. You should have a doctor look at it."
"It's fine," he replied curtly, but I noticed the slight tension in his jaw as the antiseptic stung.
I worked in silence, applying fresh ointment and wrapping the wound with clean gauze. The intimacy of the moment wasn't lost on me—his skin warm beneath my fingertips, his breath slow and measured, the subtle scent of his cologne. For these brief minutes, the power dynamic between us seemed to shift slightly.
When I finished securing the bandage, our eyes met. Something unspoken passed between us—not quite trust, but perhaps a temporary truce.
"Thank you," he said, his voice surprisingly gentle.
"You're welcome," I replied, packing away the first aid supplies.
Devon buttoned his shirt and stood. "You should go now. I'll handle Mr. Blake from here."
I nodded, gathering my things.
"Oh, and Ms. Harper?" he called as I reached the door. "I understand you were at Blue Sapphire last night for your stepsister's birthday celebration. It seems yesterday's incident was coordinated between the two of them." His lips curved into a cold smile. "I'll take care of Mr. Blake. Your stepsister, however, is your responsibility."
The implication was clear. He knew about Scarlett's involvement and expected me to deal with her myself. As I left Eden, a plan was already forming in my mind.
---
The Harper family mansion loomed before me, its elegant facade masking the dysfunction within. I entered through the kitchen door, nodding briefly to Elsa.
I made my way silently up the grand staircase, avoiding the creaky third step from habit. Scarlett's bedroom door was slightly ajar, pink light spilling into the hallway. Of course her room would be pink—everything about my stepsister was calculated to project an image of innocence and femininity.
I pushed the door open slowly, stepping inside. Scarlett lay sprawled across her canopy bed, golden hair fanned out on the pillow, looking for all the world like a sleeping princess. The sight of her peaceful slumber ignited something cold and hard within me. This woman had conspired with my ex-fiancé to drug and kidnap me. This woman had pretended to be my sister while stealing everything I held dear.
Without hesitation, I lifted the bucket and emptied its contents directly onto her face.
The reaction was instantaneous and deeply satisfying. Scarlett bolted upright with a shriek, water streaming down her face, her designer silk pajamas soaked through. She sputtered and coughed, wiping frantically at her eyes.
"What the—Aria? You psycho! What are you doing?!" Her voice escalated to a screech as she scrambled to the edge of the bed.
"Good morning, Scarlett," I said calmly, setting the empty bucket down. "I thought you might need help waking up."
She pushed wet strands of hair from her face, mascara streaking down her cheeks despite the early hour. Always camera-ready, even in sleep.
"Have you completely lost your mind?" she hissed, grabbing a decorative throw from the foot of her bed to dry her face.
"I was just wondering why you invited me to your birthday party last night," I said, perching on the edge of her vanity stool. "It seemed like such a thoughtful gesture from my loving stepsister."
Scarlett's eyes narrowed. "Inviting you to my birthday party? What's wrong with that?"
"Nothing, except that you never invite me anywhere unless you have an ulterior motive." I examined my nails casually. "And considering what happened afterward, I'm thinking your motives were particularly dark this time."
A flicker of unease crossed her face before she masked it with indignation. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
"No?" I stood and approached her bed. "So you didn't coordinate with Ethan to get me to Blue Sapphire last night? You didn't know he was planning to drug me and take me to that cabin?"
She recoiled slightly, but quickly recovered. "That's absurd! Why would I—"
I moved closer, cutting her off. "Don't bother denying it. I have footage of you speaking with Ethan at the club right before everything happened."
This was a bluff, but Scarlett didn't know that. Her face paled beneath the smeared makeup.
"You've always been jealous of me," I continued. "You've taken my father, my home, and you tried to take Ethan. But this time, you've gone too far, Scarlett."
She attempted to climb off the bed, but I stepped forward, effectively blocking her path.
"Last night won't just disappear," I warned, my voice low. "There will be consequences."
"Get out of my room," she snapped, attempting to push past me.
I caught her wrist, holding it just firmly enough to make my point. "By the way, do you know where your precious Ethan is right now?"
Uncertainty flickered in her eyes. "What do you mean?"
"Let's just say he's... indisposed." I released her wrist and stepped back. "You might want to check your phone. I doubt he'll be responding to your messages anytime soon."
As understanding dawned on her face, I turned to leave, satisfied with the seed of fear I'd planted.
"Aria!" she screamed as I reached the doorway. "I will destroy you for this! Do you hear me? I will make you regret ever coming back to this house!"