Chapter 242
Aria's POV
Morning sunlight streamed through Devon's floor-to-ceiling windows as I made my way downstairs. I pulled my robe tighter around me, hoping some coffee might clear the fog from my mind. Last night's conversation with Devon lingered with each step I took—his question about Ethan, my honest answer, and the way his eyes had hardened immediately after.
As I entered the dining room, I saw Devon seated at the table, coffee in one hand, newspaper in the other. His posture was rigid, his jaw clenched tight enough that I could see the muscle working beneath his skin. The moment he noticed me, he folded the newspaper with deliberate precision, stood up without a word, and walked out—not even sparing me a glance.
I stood frozen, a hollow feeling spreading through my chest. His dismissal hurt more than I wanted to admit, even to myself. My fingers curled into my palm, nails digging into skin as I tried to steady my breathing.
Before I could process my reaction, Roman approached quietly from the side.
"Ms. Harper, Victoria woke up and has been taken to the police station by Lucas," he said in a low voice.
"Thank you, Roman," I replied, genuinely grateful. My hand unconsciously moved to my throat, tracing the tender bruises. "Yesterday, if you hadn't arrived when you did, I might have..." The words caught in my throat, the memory of my father's hands suffocating me still too vivid.
"It's my duty, Ms. Harper." Roman's eyes softened briefly, a flicker of humanity behind his professional demeanor. He nodded once before stepping back.
I managed a small breakfast, though each bite felt mechanical. The empty chair across from me seemed to grow larger by the minute. Devon's absence somehow filled the room more completely than his presence ever had.
---
The Harper Group building felt different now that I knew the truth about my father. I took the executive elevator to my office, trying to focus on work rather than the weight of everything that had happened.
"Your father is here to see you," my assistant Anna announced shortly after I'd settled in. "He says it's urgent."
I took a deep breath, straightening my shoulders. "Send him in."
William Harper entered my office with none of his usual confidence. His face was ashen, his designer suit oddly rumpled.
"Aria, I've decided to turn myself in," he said without preamble, lowering himself into the chair across from my desk.
I kept my expression neutral, watching his eyes for the truth I knew wasn't there.
"But you need to understand," he continued, leaning forward, "once I'm in prison, Harper Group will collapse. Everything we've built—everything your mother helped build—will be gone."
"So?" The coldness in my voice surprised even me. I felt a strange detachment, as if I were watching myself from across the room.
"We can make a deal," he said, dropping his voice. "The controlling interest in Harper Group in exchange for my freedom."
Anger rose in me like a tide, steady and unstoppable. My hands gripped the edge of my desk, knuckles turning white.
"You think Mom's life is worth a business deal?" I stood up, my voice low but steady. "You helped Victoria poison her, and you have the nerve to bargain with me?"
"Aria, be reasonable—"
"Security!" I called out, surprised at how calm I sounded despite the trembling in my limbs. "Please escort Mr. Harper out."
As two security guards entered, my father's face transformed—first disbelief, then anger, finally a flicker of fear. "You can't do this. This company is your legacy too!"
"No," I said firmly, holding his gaze. "My legacy will be justice for my mother."
After he was gone, I locked my office door, slid down against it, and finally let the tears come—silent, burning. The weight of betrayal pressed down on me until it was hard to breathe. The Harper name, once my identity, now felt like something I needed to shed.
---
"Girl, you need a night off," Sophia declared, raising her vibrant red cocktail glass. We were at a trendy new bar in Brooklyn, the music loud enough to drown out my thoughts.
The place was packed with beautiful people. Sophia had pulled me here after hearing about my confrontation with my father, insisting that dancing was the only appropriate response to family trauma.
"By the way," she leaned in, her voice lowered, "your Mr. Kane was spotted at Essex's party last night—with Caroline Hayes on his arm. So don't be too tied down, if you know what I mean."
I tried to ignore the tightness that formed in my chest at the mention of Devon with Caroline. "He's not 'my Mr. Kane,'" I replied, taking a large sip of my drink to hide the sudden dryness in my throat.
"Sure, honey." Sophia's eyes studied me carefully. "That's why you're wearing his shirt as a sleep dress."
Before I could respond, a group of male models Sophia knew surrounded our table. One particularly enthusiastic blond wouldn't stop refilling my glass, his attention growing more persistent with each pour.
I was on my third drink when I felt it—a shift in the energy of the room. Looking toward the entrance, I saw Devon standing there. His eyes moved methodically across the crowd until they found me, and when they did, they narrowed slightly. His mouth set in a hard line.
Almost simultaneously, I noticed Owen appear near the bar. Without warning, he marched over and grabbed Sophia's wrist. "We need to talk," he said, pulling her away despite her protests.
The blond model leaned closer to me, placing his hand on my knee. "If you need better company tonight..." he whispered, slipping a business card into my hand.
As Devon approached our table, the model caught his cold stare and quickly retreated. Devon didn't say a word as he stood over me, but his presence filled every inch of space between us. His jaw was tight, eyes dark with something I couldn't quite name—perhaps anger, perhaps jealousy, perhaps both.
I felt my heart rate quicken, my skin warming under his gaze. It was infuriating how my body responded to him, even when my mind was telling me to stay guarded.
"Mr. Kane," I said carefully, my voice steadier than I felt. "I didn't expect to see you here."