Chapter 176
Aria's POV
Marianne's face contorted with rage, a stark contrast to the elegant socialite who had once guided me through the intricacies of high society. Her mascara had run in jagged black streaks down her cheeks, making her look almost feral in the fading light.
"Liar!" she spat, her voice cracking. "My son is lying in a hospital bed because of you and your new boyfriend!"
My heart hammered against my ribs as I glanced around. We'd pulled up to a secluded lake house, surrounded by dense trees. The sun was setting, casting long shadows across the unfamiliar property. I didn't recognize this place, and the realization sent a chill down my spine.
I needed to get out of here.
In one swift motion, I shoved Marianne aside and flung the car door open. I kicked off my Louboutins and bolted toward the tree line, my bare feet pounding against the cool grass. Behind me, I heard Marianne's shocked cry followed by angry shouting.
"Get her! Don't let her leave!"
My lungs burned as I pushed myself harder, the hem of my dress catching on branches and tearing as I crashed through the underbrush. Small cuts appeared on my arms as twigs scraped against my skin, but I barely felt them through the surge of adrenaline.
The sound of heavy footsteps crashed through the foliage behind me. Two men dressed in black were closing in fast, moving with practiced efficiency. One veered to my left, clearly intending to cut me off.
"Shit," I gasped, changing direction, but it was too late.
The second man lunged from my right, tackling me to the ground. I hit the earth hard, the impact knocking the wind from my lungs. I thrashed wildly, clawing at his face, but he easily pinned my wrists.
"Damn, she runs fast," he panted, his breath hot against my face. "Fuckin' exhausting."
"Just get her inside," the other man ordered, pulling me roughly to my feet.
They half-dragged, half-carried me back to the house, my struggles useless against their iron grips. Inside, they forced me into a straight-backed wooden chair in what appeared to be a sparsely furnished bedroom. One man bound my wrists behind the chair while the other pressed a strip of duct tape across my mouth.
My chest heaved as I tried to control my breathing through my nose, fighting back the rising panic. I needed to stay calm, to think clearly. The men stepped back, and Marianne entered the room, her composure somewhat restored though her eyes still blazed with fury.
"I'm sorry it had to be this way, Aria," she said, though she didn't sound sorry at all. She stepped closer and, with a swift motion, ripped the tape from my mouth. The sudden sting brought tears to my eyes.
"You've completely lost your mind," I said, wincing at the pain. "When people find out you've kidnapped me—"
"No one will find out," she cut me off. "And no one will look for you. William thinks you're with that Kane man, and Kane thinks you're with your father."
She circled the chair slowly, like a predator. "Now tell me the truth. Did you order Devon Kane to hurt my son?"
"I said I didn't," I replied, forcing my voice to remain steady. "I have nothing to do with what happened to Ethan."
Her hand shot out, striking me across the face. The heavy ring on her finger cut into my cheek, and I felt a warm trickle of blood run down to my jaw. The slap echoed in the quiet room, followed by my stunned gasp.
"Ethan is in a coma!" she screamed, her voice breaking. "The doctors say he might never wake up. And you sit there lying to my face?"
I blinked away the tears that had sprung to my eyes, refusing to show weakness. "I'm telling you the truth. I don't know what happened to Ethan."
The door opened behind Marianne, and to my shock, Scarlett walked in. She was wearing a pristine white sundress that made her look angelic and innocent—a stark contrast to the malicious smile playing on her lips.
"Hello, Aria," she said, practically purring with satisfaction. "Surprised to see me?"
Marianne placed a hand on Scarlett's shoulder. "Scarlett has been kind enough to come forward as a witness. She saw you with Kane the night Ethan was attacked."
Scarlett stepped closer, looking down at me with undisguised contempt. "I saw you at Eden that night. You were talking to Devon Kane, pointing at Ethan. An hour later, Devon's men dragged Ethan out back and beat him until he couldn't stand."
I stared at her, momentarily speechless. The audacity of her lies was staggering. And yet, as I watched the smug satisfaction in her eyes, a strange calm settled over me. This wasn't just Marianne's grief-driven vengeance—this was a calculated move. Scarlett was using Marianne's pain for her own ends.
A cold smile spread across my face. "This is fascinating, Scarlett. Did you come up with this plan before or after your mother got caught cheating? Are you that desperate to distract from your family's disgrace that you'd use Mrs. Blake like this?"
Scarlett's eyes widened with shock at my direct attack. "That's—that's not what this is about!"
"Isn't it?" I pressed, sensing her discomfort. "Let's be honest here. You've hated me since the day I exposed your relationship with Ethan. You can't stand that I ruined your little game."
"This isn't about that!" Scarlett snapped, color rising in her cheeks. "This is about you having Ethan attacked!"
"No, this is about you using Mrs. Blake to get revenge on me," I said calmly. "Tell me, Scarlett, did you think Mrs. Blake would believe anything you said if she knew the truth about you and Ethan? If she knew it was because I caught you trying to have Ethan set me up to be raped..."
The words hung in the air for a split second before Scarlett realized what she'd done. "Of course it's because I had Ethan find someone to—" She stopped abruptly, horror spreading across her face as she clamped her hand over her mouth.
Marianne froze, her eyes darting between us. "What did you just say?"
I seized the moment, turning toward Marianne. "So, let me get this straight. You're accusing me of orchestrating an attack on Ethan based solely on the word of a woman who just admitted she tried to have me sexually assaulted?" I shook my head slowly. "Mrs. Blake, before you throw accusations at me, perhaps you should demand actual evidence. Not the word of someone with an obvious vendetta."
Marianne stared at Scarlett, confusion and anger battling across her face. "Scarlett, what is she talking about? What did you just say about Ethan?"
Scarlett backed away, her confident facade crumbling. "She's—she's twisting my words. I didn't mean it like that."
I kept my expression neutral, but inside, I felt a surge of satisfaction. The tables had turned. "Mrs. Blake, I understand you're in pain. I can't imagine what it's like to see your son hurt. But I had nothing to do with it, and using Scarlett's lies won't change that fact."