Chapter 27
Aria’s POV
"Working late," I replied, starting past him toward the stairs.
He blocked my path. "You smell like cologne. Expensive cologne."
I flinched internally but kept my face neutral. "I was with a client."
"Until midnight? What kind of 'client' work happens at this hour?"
"The kind that pays the bills," I snapped, immediately regretting my tone as his expression darkened further.
"You're not sleeping in that Brooklyn apartment anymore," he declared. "If you want access to your mother's inheritance, you'll stay here where I can keep an eye on you."
"That's ridiculous. I'm twenty-four years old, not sixteen."
"Your mother's will specified that I manage her estate until you turn twenty-five," he reminded me. "Including the trust fund. If you want to continue receiving those payments, you'll abide by my rules."
The threat was clear. Without my mother's trust fund, Stellar Impressions would struggle even with the reinstated Kane contract. I couldn't risk losing that income, not when Sophia and our employees depended on it.
"Fine," I conceded, the word bitter on my tongue. "I'll stay here."
He nodded, satisfied with his victory. "Good. Now go to bed. You look exhausted."
I climbed the stairs to my childhood bedroom, each step feeling like a defeat. Once inside, I locked the door and leaned against it, closing my eyes against the tears threatening to fall.
The encounter with Devon had left marks—faint bruises on my hips and thighs, a slight soreness between my legs. I stared at the evidence of our transaction in the mirror and wondered if I'd made a terrible mistake.
I'd slept with Devon Kane to save my company, but in doing so, I might have entangled myself with someone far more dangerous than I'd anticipated. He wasn't just a wealthy playboy like Ethan; he was calculating, controlling, and accustomed to getting exactly what he wanted.
"I've tangled with a wolf of Wall Street," I whispered to my reflection, "and now I don't know how to escape."
But there was no turning back now. The contract was reinstated, and I had a month-long obligation to fulfill. All I could do was ensure Stellar Impressions delivered an exceptional campaign for Kane Technologies, complete my personal arrangement with Devon, and then put as much distance as possible between us.
I picked up my phone and called Sophia, hoping she was still awake.
"Aria?" she answered, sounding surprised. "Is everything okay?"
"Kane Technology has agreed to reinstate our contract," I said, keeping my voice steady.
"What? How did you manage that?"
I swallowed hard. "Let's just say I can be very persuasive when necessary."
"This is amazing news!" Sophia exclaimed. "I was just looking at our accounts, trying to figure out how to make payroll next month."
"We need to deliver the best campaign Kane has ever seen," I said. "I want to expedite everything—the sooner we complete this project, the better."
"Of course," Sophia agreed. "But why the rush?"
"The sooner we finish, the sooner we get paid," I replied, not wanting to explain the real reason. "And the sooner your mom gets her follow-up treatment."
"You're right. I'll start first thing tomorrow," Sophia promised. "Thank you, Aria. I don't know how you pulled this off, but you're a miracle worker."
If only she knew the price of that miracle.
After we hung up, I showered, trying to wash away the scent of Devon's cologne and the memory of his hands on my body. But as the hot water cascaded over me, I knew that no amount of soap could erase what had happened between us.
I'd made a deal with the devil, and now I had to see it through.
---
The next morning, a gentle knock roused me from a fitful sleep. I cracked open my eyes to see Elsa, our longtime housekeeper, setting a breakfast tray on the bedside table.
"Good morning, Miss Aria," she said softly. "Your father asked me to make sure you were up by eight."
I groaned, burying my face in the pillow. "It's Saturday, Elsa."
"Yes, miss, but Mr. Harper was quite insistent." She hesitated, then added in a lower voice, "If I may say so, it might be wise to humor him for now. Things have been... tense around here lately."
I sighed and sat up, wincing slightly at the soreness in my muscles. "Has he always been this controlling?"
Elsa gave me a knowing look. "Your father has changed since your mother passed. As have you." She straightened the curtains, letting in more light. "You used to be softer, more willing to please. Now you fight him at every turn."
"Because he's wrong, Elsa. About everything."
She shook her head. "Men like your father don't respond well to direct confrontation, especially from their daughters. Sometimes it's better to appear to bend while secretly staying strong." She glanced toward the door and lowered her voice further. "You could learn a thing or two from your stepmother and stepsister about that."
"What, you want me to play the helpless female like they do?"
"I'm saying you need to be smarter about how you handle him," Elsa replied. "They manipulate him by appearing to need his protection and guidance. You confront him head-on, and that only makes him more determined to control you."
I considered her words as I sipped the coffee she'd brought. Elsa had been with our family since I was a child; she knew the dynamics better than most.
"I'll think about it," I conceded.
"Good." She nodded, satisfied. "Now get dressed. Victoria and Scarlett are already at breakfast with your father."
Twenty minutes later, I entered the formal dining room, dressed in a simple white blouse and jeans. My father sat at the head of the table, reading the Wall Street Journal while Victoria delicately cut into a poached egg. Scarlett was scrolling through her phone, looking unusually pale.
"Good morning," I said, taking a seat opposite Scarlett.
My father lowered his newspaper. "Aria. Finally joining us."
Victoria smiled, though it didn't reach her eyes. "Did you sleep well, dear? You came in rather late."
I reached for the coffee pot, avoiding her gaze. "I slept fine, thank you."
"You really should call if you're going to be out past midnight," Victoria continued. "Your father worries."
I doubted that very much, but I forced a polite smile. "I'll keep that in mind."
I studied Scarlett as I sipped my coffee. She looked unusually subdued, her normally perfect makeup not quite concealing the shadows under her eyes. Was she ill? Or perhaps feeling the consequences of her affair with Ethan?
The thought gave me a petty sense of satisfaction. At least I wasn't the only one suffering for my choices.
"Aria," my father said, folding his newspaper. "We need to leave in thirty minutes."
I frowned. "Leave? For where?"
"It's a surprise," he replied, his tone making it clear he wouldn't elaborate further.
"I have plans today," I lied, not wanting to be dragged to whatever family event he had in mind.
"Cancel them." It wasn't a request.
I opened my mouth to argue, then caught Elsa's meaningful glance from where she stood by the sideboard. Swallowing my objection, I nodded instead.
"Fine. What should I wear?"
My father seemed momentarily taken aback by my compliance. "Something appropriate for a business lunch," he said after a pause. "Nothing too provocative."
I clenched my jaw at the implication but kept my expression neutral. "Of course."