Chapter 210
Aria's POV
I stiffened. "We don't need to mention Devon in every conversation. Our meeting today is strictly business."
Calvin leaned forward, his smile widening. "I like your directness, Ms. Harper. Refreshing in our circles." His eyes traveled over me in a way that made my skin crawl.
"I'm here for information about the Harper family," I said, getting straight to the point. "You mentioned you had something. I'm willing to pay."
He gently swirled the brown liquid in his coffee cup. "Money isn't what I'm short on, Ms. Harper." His finger traced the rim of his glass suggestively. "If you'd consider my previous offer..."
I pushed my coffee cup away and reached for my purse. "I think we're done here."
"Relax," Calvin said quickly. "Just a joke. Business only—as you requested."
He slid a manila envelope across the table. My fingers hesitated before taking it, sensing this information would change things.
Inside were photographs—not financial documents or company secrets as I'd expected. My breath caught as I stared at the images. Scarlett, my step-sister, dressed in barely-there clothing, draped over an older man in what appeared to be a private room at a high-end nightclub. In the next photo, she was accepting cash, her smile practiced and hollow.
"Where did you get these?" I asked, my voice barely audible.
"I have connections everywhere. That particular establishment caters to wealthy men who value...discretion." Calvin's voice dropped.
I quickly took pictures of the most damning photos with my phone before sliding the envelope back. "This is useful, but not what I came for."
Calvin's smile tightened. "Consider it a gesture of goodwill."
I gathered my things and left without another word, my mind racing with implications. Outside, the autumn air hit my face, clearing my thoughts. I needed to verify these photos and understand what they meant for my family's dynamic.
Standing at the corner of Madison Avenue, I texted Ryan and then called when he didn't immediately respond.
"I need your expertise," I said when he answered. "Do you recognize this club?" I sent him the clearest photo.
After a moment of silence, Ryan's voice came through, tinged with surprise. "Doesn't look like anywhere in New York. The styling is more Miami—see those distinctive palm motifs on the wall? Could be Opal Room in South Beach."
"You're sure it's not here?"
He laughed. "Trust me, Aria. I've been to every high-end spot in the city. What kind of social coordinator would I be otherwise? That's definitely not New York."
I thanked him and hung up, then texted Garrett Morgan, the private investigator Ryan had recommended. If Scarlett was in Miami now, I needed to know everything about it.
"I won't let you get away with this," I whispered to myself, thinking of Scarlett's innocent act, her theft of my mother's beach house, her affair with my ex-fiancé. The hatred rising within me felt almost comforting in its clarity.
---
The Harper family mansion felt eerily quiet when I returned. Aisha met me at the door, concern etched on her weathered face.
"Miss, you haven't been home for days. I was worried."
"I'm fine, Aisha," I assured her, though the hollowness in my chest suggested otherwise.
After sleeping for a few hours, I awoke to an emptiness that seemed to permeate the house. The loneliness that had been my constant companion since my mother's death felt particularly acute today.
William was already seated at the dining table when I came down for dinner, his focus on his phone rather than acknowledging my presence. I took my seat silently.
"So you remembered you have a home," he finally said, putting his phone down. "I thought you'd decided to abandon it completely."
I reached for the water glass. "I've been busy with work."
"Work," he scoffed. "Is that what you call whatever you're doing with Kane?"
I set my glass down carefully. "Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something important."
"What now?"
I met his gaze directly. "The items Mom left for me when she died—the ones you're holding. I think it's time you gave them to me."
The change in his expression was immediate. His face darkened, and with a sudden movement, he swept his soup bowl off the table. It shattered against the wall, the sound echoing in the dining room.
"You want to talk about that now?" His voice was deadly quiet. "Fine. Let's make a deal. You can have your mother's trinkets, but in exchange, you stay completely away from Harper Group. No meddling in personnel, no questions about finances. You take your inheritance and disappear from company matters."
My heart pounded, but I maintained my composure. "And if I don't agree? If I decide to take this to court?"
William's eyes narrowed. "You won't win that fight, Aria. Not against me."
The tension between us crackled like electricity. Neither of us backed down, the silence stretching uncomfortably.
My phone buzzed with a text, breaking the standoff. I glanced down to see Devon's name.
"Outside. Come now."
"We're not finished," William warned as I stood.
"Actually, I think we are," I replied, walking away despite his protests.
Outside, Devon leaned against his black Maybach, arms crossed over his chest, his gray eyes cold and assessing. The streetlights cast shadows across his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his jawline.
"This isn't some illicit rendezvous," he said, noticing my hesitation. "Though your father's watching from the window, so he probably thinks it is."
"What do you want?" I asked, keeping my distance.
In response, Devon grasped my wrist and pulled me toward the car. "Get in. I'm taking you somewhere."
"I didn't agree to go anywhere with you tonight," I protested, though my resistance was halfhearted.
"Consider it an executive decision," he replied, opening the passenger door. "You'll want to see this."